Hellacious Hospitality Ch. 02

"You--" she wagged an accusatory finger at him, still wheezing for air. "--You're good. I see the way you're able to get people to fall into your pace, and volunteer too much in the process. You must be a skilled lawyer. Or politician?"

"Nah, don't have the stomach for that kind of work. Just an office grunt. Though, I suppose if office 'politics' are included in your assessment, then guilty as charged." He shrugged. He tried not to show it at just this moment, but he was seriously impressed with this girl. Many of his coworkers had still not yet wised up to his tricks, a last resort trump card that often led to him getting his way at the office when he needed it, despite his seniority deficit. But she had seen through him in an instant. She was perceptive, and that was exciting to him.

It was just as well that she had dismantled his ruse, though. He currently doubted his ability to continually match her wit, now also having to contend with the significant distraction posed by the wondrous sight of her heaving bosom, as she caught her breath.

She dabbed tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes, before returning to her cappuccino with a mirthful, but contemplative expression on her face. She let out a contented sigh, shuddering as she let the warming, relaxing elixir work its way through her body. "I should be angrier that you tried to cheat at our deal, but I have to give you some credit for cleverness. I told you before that it's been far too long since I've had a good conversation with someone. But it's been even longer since I've been matched against such an intriguing opponent."

The sultry tone with which she spoke those last words were like rocket fuel to Benson's loins. He shifted in his seat awkwardly to hide his growing arousal. Her eyes never wavered from his face, so he was unsure if she had caught on to his momentary discomfort.

Benson cleared his throat, in a poor attempt to regain control of the conversation. She urged him to continue anyways. "Guess I overplayed my hand on that one, huh? Guess, in the spirit of fairness, that'll have to be my first question for you; just what is this place?"

"Cutting right to the heart of the matter, I see. I suppose that was to be expected. You've certainly already had your fair share of 'experiences' regarding this place. Perhaps the best words to describe this place would be 'safe haven'. Or maybe, in some sense 'halfway house'?" She paused for a moment, lost in thought.

"Hey now, you promised full disclosure. You can't leave me with only that much. Still doesn't explain the things I've seen here."

She sighed, "Indeed I did. And you're right, you've already borne witness to far too much here to be satisfied with the mundane. Just tell me, are you ready bear the consequences of what I'm about to reveal to you?"

He gulped nervously at the weight of her words, but her concern for him was somehow reassuring. He nodded once, with determination.

She had hoped for a sign of hesitation, for any excuse whatsoever to end this interview session, but all she saw was eager curiosity. "Drat. I sort of hoped that you'd chicken out, but I guess that was just wishful thinking. I've got no-one to blame but myself for starting this whole thing. No use beating around the bush. Speaking broadly, the fairy tale things you might call 'supernatural' or 'magical' -- sometimes referred to as demi-humans -- they really do exist. While you may soon come to find many of those legends greatly embellished by the tellers, the truth is that ghosts, goblins, and myriad others of that nature still walk this world, in secret."

Benson could only offer a vacant expression in return, "...huh."

"I just drop the bombshell of your life on you, and all you can say to that is 'huh'?"

"Well, you are talking to a guy who met a ghost during his first night's stay here. After that, I think you'll find me very open-minded."

She gave an approving nod. "Guess I'm not giving you enough credit. Usually people don't take those revelations too calmly. Even when faced with the extraordinary, you'll find most people will opt to retreat to the safety of the well-known." She shrugged. "You might wonder where they all came from, and where they've all gone. Well, let me ask a question of you. Humans have this egotistical belief that they were made in God's own image. But who's to say that's where he stopped?"

Benson was dumbstruck. Ghosts and goblins were one thing, and he had firsthand experience to prove some of that. But this girl had unceremoniously dropped the existence of God on him as well. All of the world's theological conundrums, rendered moot in the blink of an eye.

Another fit of raucous laughter. "Haha! You should see your face! That never gets old. They get so wrapped up in the knowledge that the 'things that go bump in the night' are real, that they believe everything I tell them!"

He momentarily glared daggers at Caeli for her awful prank, but couldn't suppress the chuckle that immediately followed. This girl was too much.

"Ah sorry, needed to lighten the mood a bit. Things always get a bit heavy after I drop that first truth bomb. Yeah, they're real, they exist, but no, we don't know any better where we came from than you do of yourself. As for why you don't really hear about them anymore, that brings us back to this place. I'm sure you can tell from all your storybooks and legends that humans and -- we'll call them 'demis' -- tend not to agree at the best of times, putting it mildly. There've been 'incidents' in the past..." She trailed off, struggling to keep her explanation "light".

"I'm so sorry to hear that."

She shook her head emphatically. "Don't apologize. It's nothing you were involved with personally, and quite frankly, I'm sure many demis deserved their fates. They weren't blameless, and responsible for many atrocities of their own. But still, enough incidences put all demis in the cross-hairs at some point or another, many hunted to near extinction. For those willing, wanting, to live in peace, havens like this were built to house them, away from the prying eyes of humans that they may continue to thrive. They can come and go as they please, but in some ways, the outside world has become even more hostile for their kind since those ancient times this haven was first established." Her gaze grew distant for a moment, as if recalling something painful, but that moment passed quickly, before he had a chance to call attention to it.

"Is it a problem for me to be here, then? Surely these creatures -- sorry, 'demis' -- have some lingering animosity towards humans for that treatment."

"No, I don't think it'll be an issue. As I said, this is an environs for those who wish to live in peace and safety. I suspect this place has ways of managing those that harbor ill-will."

"Well, that's certainly all a lot to take in. But still, that doesn't fully answer my question. I guess you've explained the 'who', the 'what', and the 'why', but what about the 'how'? As in 'how does this place work?' My experiences here may be limited, but I've already seen my share of weird shit here that doesn't involve demis. Like, why are my memories of this place so messed up?"

"I'm afraid I don't have all the answers for you there. My station here is merely as a keeper, or warden. I am not its creator. I have no intimate knowledge of how it works. But to give you a rough idea, would it do any good to liken this place to 'The Room of Requirement'?"

"You mean, like, from Harry Potter? How would you know about that?"

"Oh, please. Those living here merely hide from the outside world. We're not ignorant of it. And FYI, loved those books. Lined up in the dead of night at those big launch parties personally for the last few volumes. Good times!" She pointed upwards. "You've been in one of the rooms here, right?"

"Eh, sorta. That night was pretty chaotic. Didn't really look around all that carefully."

"Ah, well, it's not all just for show. The TVs work and everything. Whoever and however they made this place, they did a bang-up job of future-proofing it. I think the intent was always for the residents to be able to move back into the outside world without too many complications, should they so desire."

"Why a hotel, then? And not something more, well, home-y?"

"That, I believe, would be your doing."

"Come again?"

"This place, it adapts to the needs of its tenants. In allowing you entrance, it changed to a form as you'd be willing to accept it. Or perhaps, as you needed it? I do recall a certain sense of desperation when you first showed up here."

Benson's face grew red as he was made to recall the sorry state he had arrived in when he first discovered this place. "Wasn't the best of first impressions, was it?"

Caeli shrugged, "I've never placed much stock in first impressions. Too much pretense and pressure. If I'd turned you away based on that alone, I certainly wouldn't be enjoying the company now."

"Oh, sure, easy for you to say. With your looks, I'm sure all you have to do is show up, and before long you could have the whole place eating out of the palm of your hand." It was her turn to blush. "But thanks for giving me a chance. For what it's worth, I'm enjoying the company as well. I'm certainly not as charitable as you. I get labeled as cold or stand-offish all the time, but that's because it's so easy to see people for how self-absorbed they truly are. They're only concerned about other people if it somehow helps them in the end. I can't stand it." A look of concern crossed Caeli's face. "Ah, sorry. Guess I just needed to vent a bit, and you've been a great listener."

"Well, I think that's all I can provide on your first question, but that brings us to an interesting topic for my turn; what is it that brings Benson Lachlan into this domain? Surely more than the need for a roof over your head found you on our doorstep."

"Really? Surely you don't want to hear that boring story. Compared to what you just told me, my problems are meaningless."

"I asked the question. That's for me to decide, is it not?"

"Well, if you insist," Benson conceded, and then began recanting to the best of his recollection the events that led to him drunkenly stalking the city streets on a certain dreary Friday night. He constantly scanned her face for any signs of boredom or disinterest, but she held with rapt attention, even urging him to expand at points, until he had basically summarized the last several years of his life -- graduating from college with an education in computer programming; his fortuitous hiring by a small but successful investment banking firm to modernize their outdated accounting database; and then the subsequent stone-walling by its aged and out-of-touch workers that made him feel like he was simply spinning his wheels and getting nowhere in life.

As he talked, he found himself drawn ever deeper into the glittering amber whirlpools that were Caeli's eyes. Brilliant and soulful, they seemed to probe the depths of his being. But not in an invasive, perturbing way. Rather, a profound sense of kindness that radiated deep into the darkest depths of his heart and illuminated the secrets that lay buried there. A rare beauty indeed.

Benson had met women like her, even flirted with women like her before. At least, from the standpoint of physical attractiveness. But just as with his self-interested coworkers, most of those types of women were vaingloriously shallow. A sexy body or a pretty face did not a personality make, and many of those prospects seemed to have forgotten that somewhere in the pursuit of magazine beauty standards.

Caeli was different. She was so far out of his league in the looks department that there were moments when he felt as if this was all some prolonged dream. Or perhaps he'd actually died in a car accident outside that damnable pub, and this was him drifting through whatever the afterlife had to offer. Either would explain all the weird shit that he'd experienced just as readily as the tall tales he'd just heard. But none of that really seemed to matter in this moment. He felt like a complete asshole, venting all his petty bullshit to her, practically a complete stranger, and yet she seemed to take it all in stride, with that dazzling smile of hers.

No, his life would be enriched if they could simply just get together regularly. He didn't care if she was already spoken for, romantically. He just hoped they could be friends. Partake of her amazing coffee again. Find better, nicer things to talk about. Seemed she liked fantasy novels. He used to, in his more carefree years. Maybe find more common ground.

*****

"...Ben? Benson?" Her bright voice chirped in his ear. "You started daydreaming there for a bit. You okay? Need more coffee?"

Benson grinned sheepishly, realizing just how far he'd tumbled into his own head space again. He glanced down at the now cold coffee cup he was still holding, idly wondering at what point he'd actually emptied it. Putting it aside, he managed to steal a glance at his watch. They'd been talking for almost three hours already. Certainly hadn't seemed so long. "Sorry, no, I'm fine. Great, actually. You're great! I... dammit!" His mouth blathered before his brain could fully catch up.

Another bemused smile. He didn't know how she did that. Every time his stupid brain decided to go haywire, all it took was a mere curl at the corners of her lips for him to calm down again.

"Thank you very much for answering my questions. I can tell you're not a man used to baring his soul, but you did well. I have a better understanding of 'Benson Lachlan' now, and I think I like it."

What was that supposed to mean? Benson stayed silent.

"I have no further questions for you at the moment. I believe I still owe you two more, though?"

Benson in fact had two immediate questions on his mind. His first was practically a gimme, having almost gotten her to spill before their game of quid-pro-quo had even officially started. But two things remained that they had been avoiding all evening, and he hoped with all his heart that she wouldn't get mad about them.

"So... second question. I guess not as much a question, as a request? Or favor?"

"Oh? Go on." Caeli raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"Show me how you do it. How you conceal your, um, y'know?" He wasn't sure how to phrase the request without insulting her. He cringed for himself, while he held his fingers up to his head, miming horns. He braced himself for a furious rebuff that didn't come.

Instead, he watched as Caeli's body stiffened in shock, bolting upright in her seat.

"R-really? Does my nature not... frighten you?" The way the worry made her face tremble and eyes quiver was actually causing him physical pain. That needed to stop, immediately.

"Your, um, 'features' don't make you any less you, do they? You've been nothing but gracious to this bitter jackass so far. Not sure why showing me what I've already seen should change that." He shrugged casually, trying his best to emphasize how little it bothered him.

"O-okay. Please, don't freak out. If you do, I'm going to be really mad!" The threat rang hollow. She seemed adept at teasing his emotions for her own amusement, but she was no good at hiding hers.

She timidly shuffled over to him along the couch seat, apparently too rattled to perform in her usual graceful manner. She came even closer than he expected, as she didn't stop until she was sitting in his lap. His heart leapt into his throat. She leaned her petite frame into him, forcing him to gently cradle her against his chest. She tugged at his sleeve to drape his arm over her stomach, which only pulled her in closer as he nervously avoided using his hand for fear of grabbing anything without permission.

"Please, just watch closely," she spoke softly, without turning to look at him.

Benson wasn't quite sure where he should be looking at that moment. With most of her body pressed against him, under his chin, his main sight line shot straight down to the tops of her voluminous breasts and the deep valley of her cleavage. At this angle, her low-cut bra was mostly obscured by her generous mounds, such that they appeared almost bare. The wondrous sight inflamed Benson's body with arousal, but he felt paralyzed to do anything about it. He valued whatever tenuous relationship he had with this woman too much to jeopardize it by acting out of turn, unsolicited. He merely held his breath, waiting for whatever sign it was she meant to give him.

Cocking her head slightly in his direction so she could see his reaction, she slowly, steadily reached up beside her head, and pointed towards her ear. His attention where it was required, she performed something like a magician's wave. Slowly at first, followed by a quick flick of the wrist back and forth. Obscured from view, and then back again, he watched with rapt fascination as her ear changed shape in an instant, from a rounded human lobe, to something pointed, and exotic. She gently reached over for his other arm, signaling that she wanted him to touch it.

"I believe in some folklore, this ability is what is known as a 'glamour'. It's not merely a case of evading sight, or visual illusion. It's a skill that modifies all of perception itself." Surely enough, as he ran his finger across the delicate lobe, nothing felt amiss. But every time she made a move to obscure his vision, the shape would change, as would the path his fingers took to trace its edge. As an experiment, he lightly pinched at its pointed tip and held it there. Every time she performed her magic, his hand appeared to jump in place by about an inch. That was a neat trick.

As he idly massaged the lobe, her breathing grew heavier. She subtly bit her lip. The method of demonstration was her idea, but she was not expecting his touch to be so... gentle. She felt her face flush still a shade darker, and hoped that the lowered lighting of the room didn't make that fact quite so obvious. She squirmed a bit in his lap, before reaching up behind her neck. There was a soft "click" noise, and then he saw her jacket sleeves sag, no longer attached to her collar. She tugged at the garments, sliding them from her arms completely, and tossed them aside, before settling her now almost naked form against his body even more deeply. The warmth pressed against his chest from her back and newly-bared shoulders was incredible.

"I lost it earlier. The necessary concentration, I mean. At first I was so happy to see you again, and then, well, you saw how scattered I got, and, and..." her speech quickened nervously. Her chest heaved as she forced heavy gulps of air into her lungs to calm her nerves. "I guess there's no real point hiding it anymore. I can already guess what your last question will be. I'm -- "

Benson touched an index finger gently to her lips, cutting her short. She craned her neck as far in his direction as it would go, her eyes offering a pleading "Why?". He simply shook his head reassuringly.

"You've got it wrong. What I was going to ask was 'Why are you so afraid of Syl?'"

Her eyes widened in disbelief, completely blindsided by that line of questioning. "W-why? Why would you ask that now?" She pulled away from his embrace forcefully. She hunched over her knees, making herself seem small, her body trembling. He thought he'd touched a nerve with her, made her mad, but the glare that met his eye wasn't one of anger, but instead of pain or betrayal. No, that assessment seemed too intense. Rejection?

He hated seeing her like this, but in this moment, he knew this was the one question that he needed answered, and that any hope he had of forming some form of kinship with this girl rested on her response. He brought his hand gently against the small off her back, so pristine, pale, and inviting as it was, and tenderly stroked along her spine in a calming manner. She buried her face against her knees and shrouded her head with her arms, but her trembling slowed, and then stopped.