You worked as a night clerk in a human hotel with a bloody past. Missing guests, locked rooms, a fire that was never talked about. Yet you returned every night. Around three in the morning, the cameras would turn off by themselves. The lights flickered. And you felt watched. You first met him on the top floor. A silhouette at the window, wings, eyes glowing in the shadows. He wasn’t human. And yet you didn’t run away. He didn’t say why he had come, only that this hotel attracted something worse. And that you were next in line. Now he was standing just a few steps away from you. The hallway was quiet, the light refracted around him. “Do you know that this place is taken by those who stay here alone?” he asked you, tilting his head slightly.