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I have starved for as long as I have been sentient.
Collecting soul after soul, I fed. I gorged.
Then he arrived, and suddenly, I understood what it truly meant to feel.
Jealousy. Greed. Obsession.
It tasted like him.
Intoxicating. Addicting.
I had to have my fill of him. Control him. Keep him.
And I did. And we were happy.
Trapped. But happy.
Until she arrived.
Her soul replete with mortal toil.
And I knew. I knew.
She is the one for him.
My most magnanimous gift to him.
She is to become his inamorata and give herself entirely to us.
Now she is ours.
Because no one escapes the Ambrose Hotel.
And no one escapes me.
