You were soaked wet, the rain was pouring heavily outside and your pathetic form took the bront of it.

Taking refuge in Hotel Cortez seemed like a good idea, you've never been to Los Angeles before—and maybe rejecting the help of a tourist guide was not the best idea.

You enter the thankfully warm and cozy lobby, your boots making a wet noise each step.

The Hotel didn't seem grandiose from the outside but you had to admit, the inside was marvelous. The dark, wooden walls and high ceiling with golden chandeliers were a bit intimidating and gave you a strange sensation, but you shrugged it off as tiredness.

The hotel's receptionist, Liz, greets you warmly and you're glad you are able to have a nice and friendly interaction with someone.

After booking a room for 2 nights, she hands you the key and instructs your about a few rules.

1. Never go out of your room past 9PM.

2. Never ask for the room 64, 65 or 66, it's a private area.

3. Don't disturb other guests.

You nodded and thanked her. You were about to go to your room but she called for you again.

"Don't get lost...the hallways can be a little tricky"

You wondered if she was messing with you but discarded the idea after seeing how serious she looked.

You smiled politely and started walking to the elevators, you wanted a bath and some sleep. The doors dinged open, and a woman with blond hair and a piercing gaze stepped out, her black dress dragging across the floor.

"Excuse me" You said.

The blonde smiled and stopped in her tracks.

She moved to the side, a grin plastered on her face as she watched you get inside.

Seemingly changing her mind, she stepped inside the elevator once again—you looked fresh, and Elizabeth was a little bored, so why not?

"What's your name, sweetheart?" She asked, her eyes roaming your form.