The world is a bleak place.
I'm a dangerous man. There's no other way to say it really. I can't claim that I'm not anymore because I am. You can change how you act but you can't change what you are. But I've managed to calm myself down and now I'm the manager of a hotel.
The Peace Hotel.
Perhaps my story requires a little background first. Over the years since I was incarcerated, things have changed a lot. The Third World War decimated the world's population, and included were the many politicians that governed it. The loss of a ruling class made the world decline into anarchy. Now everywhere you go you must keep your wits about you and be ready to defend yourself at a moments notice; everything is scarce and will be until someone steps up to pull things together.
When the prison doors were opened my first instinct just like everyone else was to get as far away as possible. Out I went, and I wandered the country like many, scraping together a survival. But I was different. Unlike many of my peers I did not take advantage of the weak; my time in prison had made me change my mentality and my approach to life. Instead of the blood letting I had immersed myself in, I began to appreciate life, and now I cherished it because it was the only precious thing left on the planet to fight for. So I traveled England, helping out many a person who found themselves at the mercies of those who preyed on the weak; instead of taking a human life for fun I now took them in retribution. In time I became know as the "Angel of Death" and now the mention of my name sends those predators running for their safety.
For a long time I traveled as the "Angel of Death". Food or shelter was never a problem, people were always willing to support me as long as I protected them and helped them to try and rebuild their lives. But eventually I became weary of the constant travelling, and by calling in a few favours I established the Peace Hotel. The name was taken from an old Chinese movie that I had seen in prison. The main character was very much like myself so I had tried to model myself in a similar fashion.
The aim of the Peace Hotel was that it was a risk free zone. The criminals would never come near a place that was protected by the "Angel of Death", and all I asked for was that a resident bring enough to contribute to the working of the hotel; but to make things fair the maximum stay was three months. There was exemptions for a few: old friends who helped me to keep the place running, to clean, and to cook. Other than that our needs were scant and my hotel has become somewhat legendary since I established it.
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I woke up and stared up at the ceiling. It was a beautiful summer's day, masking the pain and deprivation of the world that it illuminated. Everyday was another effort to keeping the hotel alive. I lived for the hotel and the salvation it offered. At least in this day and age there is hope for some who dare to entertain the notion.
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Walking into the canteen, I could see that there were few early risers. Two new tenants, a young lady called Ellen and a middle aged man who's name I hadn't found out yet were sitting and talking while waiting for their food. Ellen had been memorable because she had managed to bring in a considerable amount of food from an unknown source. I had been suspicious, but I wasn't in a position to discriminate after some of the people who had come through these doors in the past few years. Taking a seat, I engaged them in conversation.
It turns out that Ellen had been living with a small colony that had managed to grow some of their own food. She had been out scouting the local area, and when she had returned the colony had been pillaged, and everyone had been killed. Gathering what little remained she had fled and ended up at my hotel, Most people do. Everyone is running from somebody. The man was called David, and he wasn't too keen to talk about what had happened to him, so I didn't push.
