Zombies are mindful of who they eat

In the bustling heart of a city stands the Grandeur Hotel, a gleaming mainstay of wealth that pierces the sky with its majestic spires. The sun bathes its ivory façade in a warm embrace, while a gentle breeze whispers through the meticulously manicured hedges that line the cobblestone driveway. The hotel’s magnificence is matched only by the aura of exclusivity that surrounds it like an invisible force field. It’s a place where the whispers of the elite intertwine with the soft rustle of silk and the clink of fine China. All functioning with the precision of a well-oiled machine, this esteemed establishment offers every luxurious comfort imaginable, to ensure that each guest’s experience is nothing short of heavenly.

Picture this – a lavish oasis, complete with sprawling pools, pristine tennis and basketball courts, and a state-of-the-art kitchen dishing out the most delectable gourmet cuisine imaginable. Residing within these hallowed walls, is seen as the ultimate symbol of prestige and social status, a testament to one’s elevated status in society; however, the reality of working within its confines can be a bittersweet experience.

To the casual observer, toiling away at The Grandeur Hotel might appear to be the height of professional success – a lucrative salary, a glamorous working environment, and a firsthand taste of the luxuries enjoyed by the rich and famous. It also can be deemed as a lucky addition to one’s professional repertoire; a prestigious stamp of approval that can bolster one’s career prospects. Yet, beneath the surface, the situation is not as glamorous as it seems.

While the pay may indeed be fair during peak seasons, the everyday experience of being an employee within its illustrious walls can differ significantly, from the external facade of grandeur and sophistication.

The crumbs of luxury that one may pick up along the way are swiftly swept away to satisfy the avid desires of the hotel’s privileged clientele, leaving little room for personal indulgence or enjoyment. Despite the allure of adding The Grandeur Hotel to one’s resume, the sacrifices and compromises required to maintain a good standing within its ranked structure can often outweigh the potential benefits in the long run.

Amidst the challenges they face, the staff at the Grandeur Hotel pour their hearts into every moment, striving to create a vibrant atmosphere. A place full of dreamers, hoping to one day live their own dreams while watching the dreams of others. All comparing themselves to the cart full of crown flowers, that moves around the hotel, being given as a gift to new guests.

And serving as a reminder, that beauty can still flourish amongst all the ugly.

“Welcome to the Grandeur Hotel,” a woman at the check-in desk warmly greets the Lucertia family. This small family includes Dario Lucertia, his wife Aishwarya, and their spirited little girl, Daria. With a twinkle of mischief in her eyes, Daria looks up at her father and playfully teases, “Daddy, you look so pale!” Mr. Lucertia, a man often serious yet occasionally silly, responds with a grin, “What, like a zombie, my little one?”

Daria bursts into laughter, her imagination painting a vivid picture of her father as a comical zombie figure.

“Here’s your room key, ma’am,” the check-in attendant hands it to Mrs. Lucertia. Daria, still lost in her playful thoughts of her dad as a zombie, suddenly watches as Mr. Lucertia turns to her with an exaggerated, vacant stare. In an instant, he seems to acting out as a predator, foaming at the mouth, as he’s ready to pounce at anyone who’d dare to come close to him.

Mrs. Lucertia catches a glimpse of Mr. Lucertia’s demeanor and steps in between him and Daria, as Daria just laughs with a big smile, while her father is still acting like a wild beast, eyes gleaming with mock ferocity.

“Really Dario? Now is the time you want to act like a clown in front of people” Mrs. Lucertia exclaims, her voice in an annoyed tone. Mr. Lucertia’s acting out draws the attention of everyone in the lobby, all eyes now fixed on the family.

“Is everything alright, ma’am?” the check-in attendant inquires, concern etched on his face. Mrs. Lucertia, still trying to manage Mr. Lucertia’s antics, replies, “Yes…ugh… my husband is just pulling one of his ridiculous pranks!” Nearby, a renowned movie director observes the scene and mutters to himself, “Mmmh, that guy looks like a zombie straight out of one of my latest zombie films.”

Just then Mr. Lucertia turns his focus towards the director, his demeanor still of a predator; and starts showing a display of unparalleled athleticism for someone of his age. With nimble agility, he skillfully maneuvers around the furniture, showcasing astonishing speed and strength as he leaps over obstacles in his path. The onlookers can only gasp in wonder and disbelief as he pounces on the director, biting into the man’s flesh as his vicious assault unfolds in a gruesome frenzy.

Pandemonium erupts when the crowd witnesses the unimaginable scene unfolding before their eyes. Whispers of possession and supernatural forces fills the air, heightening the sense of dread that grips the spectators. Amidst the chaos, a chilling cry rings out from a woman, branding Mr. Lucertia as a “zombie,” a label that seems to ignite a sinister glint in his eyes, as he redirects his lethal intentions towards the helpless woman in the vicinity, making her his next victim.

As this is unfolding, a figure rushes to help the director, whose blood is gushing from a gaping wound in his neck, appearing lifeless. The man, trying to grasp the chaos unfolding, mutters under his breath, “I never thought my day would turn into a nightmare with people behaving like zombies.” Suddenly, the director’s eyes snap open, and he lunges forward, sinking his teeth into the man’s ear.

Panic erupts in the crowd, a wave of terror washing over them as they scream, “Zombies! They’re zombies!” The living dead multiply rapidly, as the growing number of attackers hunt for more victims, their numbers swelling in the lobby.

The hotel, once a sanctuary of luxury, now trembles under the weight of a greedy horror. The undead surge forth, their relentless hunger driving them through the corridors, invading the pool area, and creeping into the office areas. Chaos reigns supreme as the number of zombies multiplies, the air thick with the acrid scent of blood and the grotesque sight of torn flesh, a macabre tapestry woven throughout the once wealthy establishment.

In this maelstrom of terror, the last stronghold of safety emerges—the Grandeur’s grand dining room, and its lavish kitchen inside of it. Czar, the stressed general manager, bursts through the door, his formal attire marred by crimson stains that tell tales of survival. His eyes dart around the room, scanning for any lurking horrors, looking for a table, he runs to one in the middle of the room, determined to barricade the entrance against the encroaching nightmare.

Suddenly, Aisling, a maid with wide, terrified eyes, rushes in, her shock palpable as she locks gazes with Czar. The weight of dread hangs heavy in the air. Moments later, Waleeya, the check-in attendant, stumbles into the room, clutching her head, breathless and frantic. Czar, desperate for action, calls out, “You two! Help me move this table to block the door!” Yet, the women remain frozen, grappling with the surreal reality unfolding around them.

Then, like a whirlwind, Abraham, the head chef, bursts in, followed closely by Haruto, the maintenance worker, and Yuki, the lifeguard, who trails behind, her voice laced with bitterness. “You should have left me to die,” she snaps at Haruto, who dismisses with his silence, focused on the task at hand.

Haruto quickly assesses the situation, spotting Czar’s barricade plan. “Let me help you with that,” he offers, rallying Abraham to join their desperate effort. Together, they form a makeshift barrier, stacking tables and chairs as the three women assist, their hands trembling with fear.

“Do you think this will hold?” Czar questions, anxiety etched across his face. Haruto, hands on his hips, nods, “Yeah, that should do it… but wait, what about the back door?” Just as the words leave his lips, a horde of zombies breached the unsecured entrance.

In that very moment, it all looks bleak for the unlikely group!