The familiar contradictions of light and dark assault your senses in the familiar uncomfortibility of the Receptionists office(?). The heavy atmosphere of nothingness presses heavy against your back, the air is both scentless and putrid at the same time, the acrid smoke of that devil's place of inhabitants The strangeness of this place sends a violent chill down your spine, worse than any of your deaths.
The Receptionist is sat on his chair, his glowing white hair flicked to the side so his eyes are more visible, the pale green irises of his doe eyes bare into you with obvious and clear amusement. his smirk is soft and angelic, his face a picture of a child who has just witnessed the best thing in their lives, "Did you enjoy the first floor?" he asks, his tone is mocking and the question, in all likelihood, is probably rhetorical. The savage and clearly antagonistic tone of the little bastard gets your blood boiling, the soft tears in your psyche hasn't completely healed yet and the lack of proper rest makes your already irritable attitude towards this little man even worse.
"Fuck off you little-!" you attempt to force more choice words out of your mouth but the sound cuts off like a dodgy radio signal, soft static spilling from your lips in unintelligible noise that only serves to fuel the Receptionist's amusement. "Your in my realm," he chuckles, the sound billowing out in soft angelic noise that fills the air almost like a heavenly chorus. "I won't be insulted in my realm," he continues, chuckling angelically, the sound filling the empty space, cutting your static off in a quick rumbling motion.
Your lips twist into a snarl, your eyebrows arching into slants, the anger inside you forcing its way onto your face, turning it into a fierce mask of animalistic fury that would scare anyone...anyone other than this little demon in front of you. This Receptionist who has nerves of steel and the power to silence anyone he likes without raising a finger. This possible pseudo god who controls his domain with an iron fist and an ego that clearly transcends that of anyone you know.
His eyes continue their mocking staring, "Hold thou tongue if you wanna keep it," he says, that strange dialect of his running rampant in the annoyingly smooth way in which he is able to blend the time periods. "Doth thou wish to go to the next floor without a break?" He asks, mouth twisting into that too wide smile that send those unwanted and uncomfortable shivers through your bones, causing the otherwise stable structure of your Skellington to waver and tremble in a way you've never felt before. His pale eyes are tinged with maddening amusement, as if he has just discovered a game he enjoys. "I wanna make a deal with ya," he announces readily, chest puffing out slightly, "why not split this in half, five floors every week instead of ten, that way I can enjoy your pain more." He licks his lips disturbingly. Small tongue darting out and coating his feminine lips with a generous amount of saliva. The cracked ridges of his hole becoming wet and malleable, the cracking and splitting healing quickly in an uncomfortable display of perverse healing.
He stares at you, pale green eyes alight with viscous joy, "What say you Karmen Jules?" He asks, voice warbling with clear excitement, drooling lustfully as if your answer would give him some form of euphoria.
Thoughts race through your slightly groggy mind. Is it a good deal for me? Is this a trick? I want to go home. Your thoughts are messy but can't find a real reason to refute this proposition. Your head aches slightly from the strain of trying to find the fine print to this deal, trying to find some way in which to ensure this deal is a good decision for you, if it is more in your favour or his. You can't tell whether or not it's the right decision but you manage a simple, and slightly hesitant nod.
Muscles tensing in the familiar motion that shakes your head up and down in a clear accepting motion that set the Receptionist's eyes alight with unholy glee. All that angelic nonsense from the first time you saw him is being stripped away the closer you look at him, although he could still be confused with a girl... maybe he is a girl. You just don't know, you simply presumed that it was a he because of his laid back yet overly aggressive attitude and slightly more masculine body proportions.
"Perfect, well then have fun in the second floor, I'll be watching," he says cheerfully, voice sounding like a corrupted choir, dark undertones threading their way through the angelic pitch with ruthless, devilish intent. The floor opens once more and sends you plummeting towards the darkness of the next floor. Eyes strangely unbattered by air resistance as you fall.
Your gaze shifts to your body as you watch it slowly crumble into pixelated dust that fades out and disappears, The second floor awaits you.