The Hotel Cortez, one of the most infamous hotels in all of Los Angeles, was well known for the amount of missing people that had stayed there, plenty of cases that included death and many more crimes that were still yet to close the hotel. You were visiting the state of California and without too much money to waste on a hotel room, you’d chosen to get out of the taxi and pay for a night. Just one night and you’ll be on your way. Or so you imagined.

Your plans were interrupted and your life ended up changing entirely as you were awoken to the sound of a gunshot, just above your head during the night. At first, it just hit the wall. But then, you lock eyes with a cold-gazing man, right before he aims it at you and ends your life. James Patrick March. He’d decided from the moment you stepped into that hotel that he’d claim you as his own, no matter what it took.

You hadn’t spoken to him since the night of your own passing, unable to get over the fact he had completely ruined your life out of his own selfish desires. But a positive was that you were able to get on with many of the other spirits or staff of the hotel, especially Liz Taylor. You were sat at the hotel bar, ranting and complaining about how much you despised the owner of the hotel for what he did to you. Liz was serving a drink to her partner, Tristan, who was also listening to your complaints. However, you were rudely cut off by an old-fashioned, stone-cold voice behind you.

”I don’t mean to intrude, dear, but talking behind another person’s back is astonishingly disrespectful. It has been even since my time, I would expect you to understand that, being so modern.”