FicWad

something different to what I`ve written before, hope it isn`t too bad. I wrote it when I was half asleep, so if it sucks, Sorry. I know I should`ve updated Danger days:Bobs story, but this idea wouldn`t leave me alone. That will be up tomorrow though. I remember reading ages ago "Bella Muerte" meant beautiful death, so...
I really would like to know what people think of this, I don`t really know what to make of it. Hope you like it,
XOXODakota
“Oh for fucks sake!” I slam the phone down angrily, cursing all the idiots I had talked to today. Was it really that hard to get a hotel room for one night in London? I knew it was rather last minute, but still.
I pick up the yellow pages once more and find the list of hotels. I`d contacted almost all of them asking for a room, but so far no luck. I`d probably have to sleep in my car for the night, something I really didn’t think would be advisable. Despite all the shit I had been through recently, I still rather enjoyed my life, and didn’t feel like dying a slow painful death at the hands of some lunatic murderer.

“This looks promising.” I grab the phone and dial the number to the Thames Hotel. It siad it was situated right near the bank of the river itself, not too far a walk from shops and a taxi rank.
“SHIT!” I scream as I press the wrong number.
“Hello, may I help you?” a calm, cool voice answers the phone soundign more than a little bored. Feeling embarrassed and flustered I begin to tell the man on the other end of the phone that it was an accident that I had the wrong number.
“Sorry, I dialled the wrong number; I was trying to get through to a hotel in London.” I`m about to hang up when the man speaks again.
“I and my older brother run a hotel in London. The hotel Bella Muerte.” Well that was helpful. But the small nagging voice in the back of my slightly crazy mind didn’t seem to think so. Don`t go there.
I didn’t remember seeing the name in the list of hotels, but I was in desperate need of somewhere to stay for the night.
“Erm, I know this is rather last minute, but do you-“
“We have an empty room, yes.” There is an odd change to his voice, but I don’t see anything to fret about.
“Great. Umm, can you book a room for a Miss. Faye Green?” I hold my breath, hoping the man would say yes. “I`ll pay when I arrive.”
I could have sworn I heard his whisper “You will, don’t worry about that” but I immediately shrug it off, I had barely slept last night so I put it down to sleep deprivation.
“We are about a twenty minute walk away from the train station. See you soon.” He hangs up on me, not waiting for a response.
Charming, I think to myself as I pack the remainder of my things into my deep purple suitcase and grab my new,black leather jacket. I hastily shove it on, not bothering to fasten it up and rush out the door, praying I won`t miss my train.

The journey to London by train wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but I can’t say I enjoyed it. I was stuck sitting by a young single mother with two toddlers that didn’t know the meaning of the word quiet. Trying to block out their shouts of “mummy I`m bored!” and “I need to pee!” I grabbed my trusty IPod out of my jacket pocket, selected a song and turned it up as loud as it would go.


Gaze into her killing jar
I'd sometimes stare for hours (sometimes stare for hours).
She even poked the holes so I can breathe I stare at the screen in shock. I honestly had never heard that song in my life.
“Luce must have put it on.” Luce was my little sister. I say little, but she was only born a few hours after me. I loved her with all my heart, but she always annoyed me with her constant know it all attitude. That and the fact that my parents never hid the fact that she was their favourite daughter.
I`m about to change the song when the lyrics make my blood run cold.
Check into the Hotel Bella Muerte.
“No….no…just a song...” it was just a song; either that or it was my overactive imagination playing up again. Deciding to forget about it I change the song over onto one done by one of my favourite bands and start singing along to one of favourites off their new CD.


I`ve almost forgotten about the odd song when the train comes to a stop at the station in London. The man on the phone had told me that it was about a twenty minute walk from the station. I realise now that I have no idea what direction to go. Deciding to risk looking like an idiot, I pluck up the courage and ask someone that doesn’t look to creepy.
“Excuse me, sir, could you tell me how to get to the hotel Bella Muerte?” A young man with dark hair, a lip ring and mischievous looking eyes rimmed with red turned around to face me. I could have sworn I seen him wipe away a smirk, but couldn’t be sure.
“Never mind!” I was unnerved by the glint in his eyes, and was about to turn and run away when he casually placed his right arm around my shoulder. I froze. I was so frightened, I couldn’t remember being this scared in my life. My heart was beating erratically in my chest.
“Walk down that way for about ten minutes,” the stranger pointed to his right, taking a drag on a cigarette. “Then you`ll come to a side street, I think it’s called Melancholy walk or something."
Nice name.
"Walk down that for about another five, the hotels on your right.”
The man stares at me as though he knows exactly what I am thinking. His gaze unnerves me, but I smile politely and thank him.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he mutters darkly as I walk in the direction he told me. I walk at a quick pace, but do not run; I don’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing he has spooked me.
Ten minutes later like he said, I come to a side street called Melancholy walk. The air surrounding me suddenly feels colder, and a strong, chilly wind I hadn’t noticed before is making its presence well known. I shiver,quickly faten my jacket and keep walking, dragging my heavy suitcase behind me.
Melancholy walk was, to put it nicely, a mess. The place was empty of all life, cars had been abandoned, litter strewed the old cobbled streets, house windows were smashed in and the gardens of the houses were all completely overgrown. It seemed as though no one had been here for years, as though the street had been completely forgotten. The street was unnaturally dark, most of the old fashioned looking street lamps were broken and the moon wasn’t out, so there was no light from that.

I continue walking, despite the growing feeling of dread and fear in the pit of my stomach.
“Here I am.” The outside of the hotel looked slightly shabby, and one of the windows was boarded up. It did, however, look slightly nicer than the surrounding houses, which had gotten more ruined looking the farther I walked.
Above the wooden door the name of the hotel “Bella Muerte” was scrawlled messily in a paint the colour of dry blood. The lettering was old, and in some places barely visible. The brickwork looked solid thankfully, but I was a bit dubious about staying here, even if it was only for a night. I had no other option though, it was late and cold and miles from anywhere else. My phone had died on me, so I couldn’t even phone for a taxi.
Taking a deep breath I push open the heavy, oak door of the hotel, and step cautiously inside.
“Hello I`m-“there was no one there. The candle lit lobby was deserted. I venture further into the room and stop in front of a desk I presumed was used for checking in. On the desk (which looked centuries old, and had some kind of red ink spilled on it) stood a plain silver bell. I rang it and waited for someone to come.
The room was medium sized and well furnished, portraits and dark looking landscapes adorned the walls, which were wallpapered. The carpet was worn, but would have originally probably been a bright red color, and very expensive. In the centre of the room was a chestnut table and chairs that were very Victorian looking in style. Above the desk was a gold plaque reading. “G.A.Way” and “M.J.Way.”
“Can I help you?” I almost jumped out of my skin.
I was about to say something to whoever the hell it was that had almost caused me to have a heart attack, but froze in shock. This guy was…stunning, to say the least. He had silky looking ebony colored hair, beautiful greeny-hazel colored eyes and deathly pale skin.
“Err...I`m Faye, Faye green. I spoke to someone here earlier-“
“My brother, Mikey.”
I continued as though he hadn’t interrupted.
“And he said that there was a free room.” I reached into the back pocket of my old, holey, loose fitting jeans and pulled out my purse. “How much do I owe you?”
The man just laughed. “You owe me and Mikey-“he pointed to a shadow that had just appeared in the doorway. “A hell of a lot more than money.”


Next morning. Luce`s pov. (Faye`s sister)
“Faye! Where the fuck are you?!” I yell into my phone, dread consuming me. It had only been a day since she had left for London, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad had happened to her.
“Look, call me when you get this.” I sigh, and put my phone in my pocket.
Where was it she was staying again? The Bella Muerte? I`d never heard of it, it was probably some cheep hotel near the station- Faye didn’t like to do too much walking, especially at night.
The minutes ticked by slowly, with each one my fear for my twin sister’s safety increased.
I knew something was wrong. It was gone midday and she still hadn’t called me. She`d promised to call when she arrived and first thing in the morning.
I get my phone out of my pocket and dial 999.
“Hello, my sister is missing. Last night she was going to stay in London, she promised to call but she hasn’t. I know something’s happened.”
A few hours later and I`m in London, it’s a bright, sunny day, but I cannot enjoy it. The cops are looking for her and so am I. Ever since I arrived an hour and a half ago, I have been frantically handing out posters, asking people if they had seen Faye. No one had.
Just outside the train station there’s a young, dark haired man sitting on a bench smoking a cigarette.
“Excuse me, have you seen this girl?” his mischievous looking eyes at first show some signs of recognition as he takes in the picture of my sister, but it soon fades away.
“Nope.” He exhales smoke into my face, causing me to cough.
“Erm, well, do you know where the hotel Bella Muerte is? That’s where she was headed.”
“You don`t go there, if you like your life.”
“I...you…what?”
“Bella Muerte, means beautiful death.” He explains, chucking his cigarette on the floor and stomping on it. I didn`t understand.
“The Way brothers built the hotel, a long, long time ago. At first it was real successful, but then something bad happened.” He pauses, watching me carefully.
“Over two hundred years ago, a young blonde haired girl.” I shiver involuntary, Faye was blonde.
“Stayed at the hotel. Gerard and Mikey liked her, both of `em. Neither could have her though, so they killed her, then themselves. People say that Mikey and Gerard are still there, waiting for the poor girl to return, so they can finally be with her.”
I was really scared now, not just for my sister. This guy freaked me out, I don’t know what it was about him, he just did. Maybe it was the gleam in his eyes, or the way they seemed to be able to see into my very soul.
“Kid, you`ll never find her. Trust me. She`ll be long gone.” He turned and walked away, humming a song that seemed frighteningly familiar, though I had never heard it, and never would again. The odd stranger was right about something though, I never did see my sister again, and no one ever found a body.