from live_in_hell

Mar 11, 2005 01:33

I approached the Hyperion Hotel. It looked old and slightly worn. I was not sure that this was a place for a so-called "champion" to be staying. Running investigations from a place like this? It just seemed... impractical. And it certainly does not have any flair. Why is it that vampires never want to live in any sort of style? They all roll about in filthy crypts. How very cliche.

I entered the hotel and took a long look around. It did not seem to be such a bad place, just not my style. But who am I kidding, I am not here to critique Angelus's.. I mean Angel's lifestyle. Too bad, really. The Angel part, not the lifestyle part. Angelus receiving a soul. Filthy gypsies and their curses. I was quite fond of the stories of the infamous Angelus. Well.. except for the fact that he was sired by Darla and that they were lovers. I should kill him the moment I set eyes on him. Anyone that that woman sires is filthy and disgusting. And the fact that he has a soul? He is such a disgrace to the vampire name with his whole "helping the helpless" senario. Angel was quite possibly the degrading creature that I would ever come across. A soul and he was once a lover to Darla. Disgraceful.

I looked around the hotel and all seemed quiet. Perhaps everyone was out on some mission of good, or whatever. Or maybe they are just all in another part of the hotel. They ought to be more careful. Anyone at all can just walk right in here. It was just that simple for me.

I began to walk toward the stairs when I saw him. He was sitting in an office. The filthy ensouled Angel. However.. I am intrigued by the fact that he set Darla on fire. Too bad it did not kill her. No wait.. I wish to be the one to put her down like the dog she is. But my sources tell me that he is the last one to have seen her, so I am forced to come and see him. I sauntered over to the door of the office which was slightly ajar. I looked down, making sure I was looking my best, and then entered the office. I leaned against the doorframe, waiting for him to look up.
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