Excerpt: a late supper in the hotel at the end of the world and a full breakfast in the hotel at the start of the world

the hotel is decrepit. it looks like it hasn't seen business in a good number of years. yet given its size it continues to dominate the street. there have been rumoured attempts by developers to buy the land so that they can tear it down and build something new. but each of those attempts has failed. there have also been a number of rumours that the building is haunted, the assertion that those who are foolish enough to enter the premises of the hotel are rarely seen again. of course, there are any number of reasons why someone might disappear, and blaming an abandoned building and suggesting some kind of cult activity would seem to be far fetched to many people. though of course logic did not counter public opinion. khoi stands in a shadowed doorway across the road from the building, studying its front, looking at all those empty windows, some boarded up, some showing broken glass. why would victor have come here? of all the places in this city, OK, no one else would have guessed he was here, and if you were trying to maintain a low profile then that was a good thing, but no, this hotel, everything about this hotel, was a bad thing. there is a sound, he glances up the street, a figure in a robe is making its way in this direction, slight and skinny. a child or a woman he wonders? and why would either be walking along this street on a night like this?
he tries not to move, not to make a sound. he tries to do nothing that might attract attention to his presence.it does not work however, as the figure stops precisely in front of him. he looks at the face in the hood, a young woman, dark skin, shaven head, hard eyes.
"mr. compare, funny to find you here, on a night like this." she says, her voice deep, musical. she gives him a look of severe intensity.
he scowls, she scowls, they all scowl, and clearly neither is happy.