Hell's Gate: Amelia
“No one saw her. Lila, the bartender, was busy stocking the shelves for the night. It’d be nice for other people to see me besides the supernatural beings who dwell here. Why can’t just a regular guy notice me? She drifted toward the center stage where her feet had once touched the wood. Now all she had were legs and sometimes those didn’t manifest. Death sucks.
Once upon a time, she had been a showgirl in the roaring twenties. She glided toward the throne in the center of the stage and slumped ...down, resting her elbows on her knees. She cradled her head in her hands and stared at the empty club. Soon it would echo with the newfangled sounds that passed for music. The roped off areas would be full of people waiting to indulge in whatever fetish or voyeuristic appeal they were into. Amelia thought it crazy. Hell’s Gate offered her a refuge until the afterlife allowed her to traverse to the other side. It was either that or wander the streets and not be the victim of the soul harvesters.MoreLess
Once upon a time, she had been a showgirl in the roaring twenties. She glided toward the throne in the center of the stage and slumped ...down, resting her elbows on her knees. She cradled her head in her hands and stared at the empty club. Soon it would echo with the newfangled sounds that passed for music. The roped off areas would be full of people waiting to indulge in whatever fetish or voyeuristic appeal they were into. Amelia thought it crazy. Hell’s Gate offered her a refuge until the afterlife allowed her to traverse to the other side. It was either that or wander the streets and not be the victim of the soul harvesters.MoreLess
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