You guys ready for another one?
The First Finale: A Finis Work
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here we go again
anutha one
toxic_ness_2 wrote:
GASP
who is the killer?
we must find out!
Red was looking sus, so I killed him.
my my
Allowing Serial Killers in a hotel willingly is not a big brain move agreed
-5
HorribleTomato wrote:
Allowing Serial Killers in a hotel willingly is not a big brain move agreed
It's 2020. No discriminating against SKs allowed.
toxic_ness_2 wrote:
Guys
rate leafy from 1 to 10
4
not enough leaves
3.1415/10
I better start my KOTL up so I can be in the third fall of KOTL
There'll be a time, Austin. Just not yet.
Cool!
I cant wait to read it!
Ok
Link?
I read it
Chapter 2
“Hey. Hey, wake up.”
The Hotelier felt awful. To be truthful, he hadn’t felt all that good prior to getting stabbed, so now, he felt doubly awful.
The man felt something get pushed into his hand.
“Here. Eat this.”
The Hotelier was a somewhat old fellow. Not the oldest fellow out there, that’s true, but still pretty old. He was from a time where vessels once required food, and so he knew what it meant to eat.
Completely blind, he chomped down on the food. The taste of butter, cheese, and bread hit his taste buds. He’d never tasted anything like this.
Something was happening within him. His aches and pains began to fade away. He felt the giant wound his chest had sustained knit itself closed. Eyesight returned, muscles began to work again. It was like night and day.
A strange, round-shaped object with a hole in the center was in the man’s hand. He examined it confusedly. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen before.
“It worked! Cool.”
The Hotelier looked up. Across from him was a young woman dressed in business attire, looking almost childishly happy to see him awake.
“Er… who are you?”
“I’m DFS. I’m the Mayor of this humble town.”
The Hotelier finally gave his surroundings a good look. The place he found himself in might have once been a quaint, peaceful town, but now it looked like a war had taken place over the top of it. Houses were burned, buildings stood vandalized, the grand structure in front of him that resembled a town hall looked like it had suffered an explosion. Far off in the distance, a broken gate stood, letters brazen on it.
“Peaceful… Acres.” It took a second to figure out what the letters spelt while they were viewed backwards.
“Never has there been such an ironic name,” DFS chuckled. “It’s been a literal hell here, let me tell you.”
“It certainly looks it. What was that thing you gave me?”
“It’s called a bagel. It’s really, really powerful, ‘cause it heals you of everything. It’s such a secret that not even your hotel has access to them.”
“You know about my hotel?”
“Well, duh. Of course I do. There’s been ads for it left, right, and center.”
“Excellent!” The news that his PR campaign had been succeeding was a delight to the man, who jumped about happily.
He was brought back to Earth just as quickly, however, upon remembering what had just recently transpired.
“How on earth did I get here?”
“I dunno. One minute you weren’t there, next minute you were.”
“Ok, WHY am I here?”
“Why do you keep assuming that I know all the answers? Do you think I’m God or something?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Here, it’s fine-”
A horde of very slowly approaching zombies began to make their way over to the two of them. The Hotelier had met with zombies in his hotel before, but those were always rather well put-together and intelligent enough to reserve a hotel room for themselves. These things - these were real, deadly zombies.
DFS rolled her eyes. “More zombies. Annoying. Hey, hotel man. You any good in a fight?”
“I suppose I’m adequate.”
“Ok. Then have fun.”
The zombies began to creep uncomfortably close. Close enough that the smell of them was starting to get to the poor Hotelier.
“Er, ma’am. Are you going to assist me?”
“No.”
“What could possibly be the reason for this? These zombies are just as much as a threat to you as they are to me,” the Hotelier argued. “Are you incapable of fighting them? Is this some sort of sick, twisted test?”
“I just don’t feel like it.”
“Very well.”
The Hotelier began to pull out shiny silver dishes, throwing them like frisbees. Food and drink upon the platters spilled all over, disrupting their path forward, while the metal cut through their rotting flesh as though it were paper.
Two minutes later, the last zombie head was severed from its body, and the Hotelier clapped his gloved hands together.
“There. I have eliminated all of the zombies. Are you satisfied?”
DFS jumped up and down on the spot, grinning happily and clapping her hands together, as though she were a small child.
“Well done, well done!”
“So, what is our next course of action?”
“Here, I know a guy. He’s called the Principal. Real smart, authority-like guy. He can probably help you.”
“And where is this said Principal?”
“Here, follow me.”
DFS walked through the gates of her town carelessly. Without much of a choice, the Hotelier followed.
Chapter 1
“The second fall of KOTL.” That was what Finis had called it.
Of course, that implied that there had been a first fall to KOTL. And boy, was that a time back then.
The multiverse back then was a different place. A weaker place, much weaker. The constinutent universes that made it up were fewer and far between, less fleshed out and with fewer powerful people.
Perhaps the people of today would have looked back at then and called the first end of KOTL inevitable, even more so than their own. It would only be a matter of “when”.
OOO
The Hotelier sat at his desk, shuffling papers. It looked like a long night of work for him, just as it typically was.
The man was in charge of an establishment called, “Hotel Reality”. He had a vision - that the place could become a hospitable location to any and all who seeked asylum. It was neutral ground. Hero, villain, or whatever in between. All were welcome, and all would be provided for by the best service imaginable.
It had only been a week, and general consensus was that the hotel was quite the novelty. Quite a few guests had come in, and all of them left being satisfied. That was all the Hotelier could hope for.
Of course, it wasn’t easy. In fact, it was very difficult. It was fortunate that the vessel the Hotelier occupied had been updated to not require sleep, otherwise, he would not have made it this far at all.
He rubbed his forehead, trying to think. Every universe seemed to use a different kind of currency, and trying to figure out conversion rates that no one else had ever done yet was a task for an economist, not a hotel manager.
The Hotelier considered a gathering of all leaders in order to espouse the need for a common currency. Something that would be valid and useful, no matter where you went. They could meet in this very hotel - there were several large meeting rooms for exactly this purpose.
For now, though, conversion rates.
A gigantic, perpetual thunking sound began to blare throughout the large lobby the Hotelier was in. He nervously looked about, questioning just what it could be.
In an instant, the cover of the ventilation shaft above him hit the floor, and a person dropped out of it, dagger in hand.
“Hey, hold on a minute!” The Hotelier backed away a little bit. Some of his papers scattered about, which ordinarily would have irked him to no end, but there were bigger problems at the moment.
“You’re one of the mass murderers we’re hosting, aren’t you? There’s no murder allowed outside of the designated murder areas! Please halt yourself at once!”
The Hotelier didn’t even have a chance to get a good look. His foe dashed over to him, the knife rose and fell.
The man collapsed to the ground, blood flying all over his nice suit as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. As consciousness fled, he reflected on the fact that perhaps allowing serial killers into his establishment might not have been a good idea.
Chapter 2
“Hey. Hey, wake up.”
The Hotelier felt awful. To be truthful, he hadn’t felt all that good prior to getting stabbed, so now, he felt doubly awful.
The man felt something get pushed into his hand.
“Here. Eat this.”
The Hotelier was a somewhat old fellow. Not the oldest fellow out there, that’s true, but still pretty old. He was from a time where vessels once required food, and so he knew what it meant to eat.
Completely blind, he chomped down on the food. The taste of butter, cheese, and bread hit his taste buds. He’d never tasted anything like this.
Something was happening within him. His aches and pains began to fade away. He felt the giant wound his chest had sustained knit itself closed. Eyesight returned, muscles began to work again. It was like night and day.
A strange, round-shaped object with a hole in the center was in the man’s hand. He examined it confusedly. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen before.
“It worked! Cool.”
The Hotelier looked up. Across from him was a young woman dressed in business attire, looking almost childishly happy to see him awake.
“Er… who are you?”
“I’m DFS. I’m the Mayor of this humble town.”
The Hotelier finally gave his surroundings a good look. The place he found himself in might have once been a quaint, peaceful town, but now it looked like a war had taken place over the top of it. Houses were burned, buildings stood vandalized, the grand structure in front of him that resembled a town hall looked like it had suffered an explosion. Far off in the distance, a broken gate stood, letters brazen on it.
“Peaceful… Acres.” It took a second to figure out what the letters spelt while they were viewed backwards.
“Never has there been such an ironic name,” DFS chuckled. “It’s been a literal hell here, let me tell you.”
“It certainly looks it. What was that thing you gave me?”
“It’s called a bagel. It’s really, really powerful, ‘cause it heals you of everything. It’s such a secret that not even your hotel has access to them.”
“You know about my hotel?”
“Well, duh. Of course I do. There’s been ads for it left, right, and center.”
“Excellent!” The news that his PR campaign had been succeeding was a delight to the man, who jumped about happily.
He was brought back to Earth just as quickly, however, upon remembering what had just recently transpired.
“How on earth did I get here?”
“I dunno. One minute you weren’t there, next minute you were.”
“Ok, WHY am I here?”
“Why do you keep assuming that I know all the answers? Do you think I’m God or something?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Here, it’s fine-”
A horde of very slowly approaching zombies began to make their way over to the two of them. The Hotelier had met with zombies in his hotel before, but those were always rather well put-together and intelligent enough to reserve a hotel room for themselves. These things - these were real, deadly zombies.
DFS rolled her eyes. “More zombies. Annoying. Hey, hotel man. You any good in a fight?”
“I suppose I’m adequate.”
“Ok. Then have fun.”
The zombies began to creep uncomfortably close. Close enough that the smell of them was starting to get to the poor Hotelier.
“Er, ma’am. Are you going to assist me?”
“No.”
“What could possibly be the reason for this? These zombies are just as much as a threat to you as they are to me,” the Hotelier argued. “Are you incapable of fighting them? Is this some sort of sick, twisted test?”
“I just don’t feel like it.”
“Very well.”
The Hotelier began to pull out shiny silver dishes, throwing them like frisbees. Food and drink upon the platters spilled all over, disrupting their path forward, while the metal cut through their rotting flesh as though it were paper.
Two minutes later, the last zombie head was severed from its body, and the Hotelier clapped his gloved hands together.
“There. I have eliminated all of the zombies. Are you satisfied?”
DFS jumped up and down on the spot, grinning happily and clapping her hands together, as though she were a small child.
“Well done, well done!”
“So, what is our next course of action?”
“Here, I know a guy. He’s called the Principal. Real smart, authority-like guy. He can probably help you.”
“And where is this said Principal?”
“Here, follow me.”
DFS walked through the gates of her town carelessly. Without much of a choice, the Hotelier followed.