A man of wealth and taste...
It hurt. Felt like he was being torn apart piece by piece. He was burning. He couldn't tell if it was from the inside or the outside or both but he was burning, burning....
...And then everything stopped. Stillness. Silence. ...No, not silence. The sound of waves...? Blackheart opens his eyes and looks around, for once in his existance struck dumb with shock. A beach. Judging from the climate and the ocean in front of him, no where near the dusty, dead town he'd been in moments before. Whereever this is, it's not San Venganzas, and it's certainly not Hell. He ought to know, after all. He turns slowly in place, taking in his surroundings, and smirks slightly when he spots the hotel. He straightens his long, black coat and smooths down his equally black hair before striding towards the hotel and pushing open the doors, entering with poised, predatory grace. He looks around the lobby with a pleased smirk. "Very nice place."
Mun: Blackheart, from the movie Ghost Rider. The spoilers aren't that bad, but he is taken from the end of the movie and I'm paranoid. Will try to keep spoilers out of conversation. He's in ur lobbiez stealin ur soulz.