I work at a roadside hotel. The facilities are quite old, dating back to the 80s, and without meaning to offend, but it seems like they haven’t received a redecoration in decades. Crimson carpets that seemed to have a layer of warm mold underneath them, flickering yellow bulbs that made me wonder how this place was still standing. Well, I knew the answer to that: It was the only place for the next 50 kilometers. Not just the only hotel, it was truly THE ONLY PLACE within that distance range, which made it quite popular for travelers passing by the road. Around us are deserted steppes, little vegetation, and lots of stone and sun. However, the nights were cold and silent, darkness enveloping every corner of the place, which for me was a highlight of the job; I enjoyed all that soothing atmosphere. And my job was simple: to ensure everything remained peaceful while the world slept. Considering the previous description, I think it’s easy to imagine that it wasn’t a very arduous job; probably, I scared off more raccoons than people in the 10 months I’ve been here.
However, lately, something strange has been happening, and I really don’t know how to act.
It all started with scratches on the back doors. I was walking one night, a patrol like any other when, upon reaching the back of the hotel, I came across those marks carved into the emergency door, one of those fire doors, you know? Quite heavy, made of metal. Initially, I thought they were just marks left by wandering animals, as I mentioned earlier, we have many raccoons that love to rummage through the trash, and it’s not uncommon for one of them to try to break into the kitchen.
I approached the marks, examining them more closely with the light from my flashlight. They were deep, irregular. Instinctively, I felt a chill run down my spine when I realized: They weren’t raccoon marks. I began to worry about the idea of dealing with something bigger, perhaps a mountain lion? However, I tried to stay calm, pushing away the paranoid thoughts that were starting to form in my mind. It could be some other small creature; after all, the marks themselves weren’t that large.
I decided not to make a fuss about the marks that night. After all, there was no reason to cause panic among the guests because of simple scratches on a door. Even if it was some animal, it was nothing that couldn’t be dealt with by paying a little more attention and maybe making noise from time to time to scare it away when I saw it. So, over the next few days, I kept my vigilance, carefully watching for any suspicious movement around the hotel. But, to my surprise, everything remained calm. There were no signs of any large creatures lurking around, and the scratches on the doors seemed to have been just an isolated incident; not even the raccoons appeared on the following nights, very strange, but I guess it must be the time of year, they must be hibernating or taking care of their young.
However, as the days turned into weeks, the scratches reappeared. And not just on one door, but on almost every door surrounding the hotel; they were much more disorderly and numerous this time, as if something desperately tried to get in. I felt a knot in my stomach when I thought of this possibility, the air heavier that night as my tense breath condensed into visible clouds of air.
I decided to contact the hotel management immediately. My boss, Bill, was sitting in his office, wearing sunglasses and dim lighting. I found it odd as soon as I entered the room.
“Bill… what’s with the sunglasses?”
He turned to me, those dark lenses reflecting my own image.
“Photophobia. My doctor diagnosed me after I complained about some symptoms, hence the dim lighting too,” he said, pointing to the lamp on the ceiling. “But what brings you here?” he asked, opening a can of soda.
I hesitated for a moment, feeling a wave of discomfort spread within me. I didn’t want to seem silly or be labeled as crazy, so I chose my words carefully.
“Bill, I’ve noticed something strange happening at the hotel,” I began, my voice sounding tenser than I would have liked. “Scratches on the back doors, deep marks as if something is trying to get in.”
Bill raised an eyebrow, his eyes hidden behind the sunglasses. “Scratches? Let me guess, you think it’s some animal, right?”
I nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and nervousness at his seemingly calm reaction. “Well, yes. But they’re more frequent now, and the marks seem more aggressive than usual, maybe a bigger animal.”
Bill took a sip of his drink.
“They’re cats. Cat scratches.”
“Cats?” I said, confused.
“Yeah, I was hoping they wouldn’t cause any harm, but I saw them rummaging through the trash last week. They’re practically a gang, about three or four of them, and I swear, they’re the biggest cats I’ve ever seen.”
“Well, if you say so…” I said, turning away, still reluctant to believe it. I was about to reach for the doorknob when he called out again.
“Hey, Frank.”
I turned back.
“Be careful if you see them; they really are THE BIGGEST CATS I’VE EVER SEEN.” He emphasized that last part.
I left determined to investigate further. During my nightly rounds, I kept my eyes wide open, observing every corner of the hotel for clues. But no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find any signs of the “cats” Bill had mentioned. However, as the calendar progressed, the scratches continued to appear, deeper and more numerous each time. And the more I tried to ignore them, the more they seemed to appear to me; it was like trying not to think of a pink elephant.
One night, as I patrolled the empty corridors, a strange sound caught my attention. It was a soft, almost imperceptible dragging, echoing through the corridors. My muscles tensed with fear as I realized where it was coming from: the back door. I silently ran towards the sound, my steps muffled by the heavy carpet, turning off my flashlight, which now trembled in my sweaty hands. I had to scare it off, but before that, I wanted to see what it was.
As I approached the back door, my heart pounded uncontrollably, a mixture of curiosity and sheer terror running through my veins. With bated breath, I took a cautious step towards the door, listening to the dragging sound echoing more clearly with each passing second. That creature was scratching the door at that very moment.
Then, with a quick movement, I reached for the doorknob and, with a firm tug, cautiously opened the door, expecting to find whatever was outside.
What I saw left me paralyzed with horror.
At the threshold of the door, crouched like a sinister shadow, was a creature that resembled no cat I had ever seen. Its skin was slimy and pale, a thin and long body adorned with segmented rings. It was like a giant worm; at the tip of its tail, a hook, a large claw, with which I suppose it made the marks. It rose up, turning towards me, and I could see a spiral of thin, sharp teeth in its mouth. My eyes widened in horror at the sight. My brain refused to process what I was seeing, and a cold shiver ran down my spine as fear took hold of me. That thing… pulsed in a strange way, making me feel nauseous.
The creature emitted a guttural, low, and vibrating sound, as if testing the air around it. I took a step back and instinctively turned on my flashlight towards it. As soon as the light hit it, a horrible, shrill grunt was released into the air; the creature threw itself to the ground, writhing, and ran, circling the hotel and heading towards the entrance.
Trembling, I hesitated for a moment before following the creature. My mind was a mess of panic and confusion, but one thing was clear: I needed to understand what the hell that thing was. I started running after it, imagining what it could do to whoever was at the reception. But when I turned the corner of the building, I bumped straight into Bill, colliding head-on and causing both of us to fall backward.
Bill was lying on the ground, his sunglasses now precariously hanging on one ear, revealing his wide-eyed eyes that now seemed to glow in the moonlight. He was as surprised as I was, but his face quickly twisted into an expression of confusion.
“Frank, what the hell is going on?!” He asked, his voice trembling with fear.
I could barely articulate a response; my mind was spinning with the sight of that horrible creature I had seen.
“I don’t know, Bill. I… I saw what was making the scratches… They’re not cats.” My words came out in a hoarse whisper, my body trembling with fear and adrenaline.
He adjusted his glasses while brushing off his clothes, shaking off a layer of dust.
“Oh yeah? And what were they? Raccoons? Rats? I remember a rat that ate a fridge here a few years ago; it was gnawing bit by bit like this door, and…”
“Bill… it was a worm. Or something like it, it was, I don’t know, a disgusting, long thing, wriggling, had a claw at the end of its body.” The words poured out of me like a confused and hurried fountain.
Bill looked at me with disdain.
“Look, Frank, you’re a good employee, never caused trouble, so I’ll just give you a heads up: We don’t drink on the job here, neither alcohol nor any other substance that might have caused this, okay?”
The incredulity in his voice made my stomach churn. I was telling a disturbing truth, and he simply wasn’t taking it seriously.
“Bill, I’m serious! You need to believe me!” My voice came out louder than I intended.
He just shook his head, a cynical smile forming on his lips. “Frank, I know the night can be lonely, but you need to keep your head on straight. Worm? Claw? Watching trashy movies lately?”
I was speechless. How could I convince him of the truth when he was so determined to label me as crazy? I was alone in this. Giving up on dialogue, I got up from the ground and looked around, realizing the absence of the creature. It had disappeared, leaving behind only the scratches marked on the doors and a growing sense of fear in my chest.
“Look, if I were you, I’d wash my face and have a coffee; you can get it from the machine over there,” Bill said, tossing a coin to me and heading back into the hotel, shaking his head in disbelief.
With a heavy heart and a turbulent mind, I followed his advice and headed to the employee bathroom. As the cold water washed over my face, my mind was filled with scary thoughts and uncertainties. I knew what I had seen, but without Bill’s support, I felt increasingly isolated. Every time I closed my eyes, that image came to mind, the repulsive creature.
When I left the bathroom and made my way to the coffee machine, my hands still trembled involuntarily. Every subtle sound seemed to echo like a signal of danger, and I found myself looking over my shoulder with every step I took. Whatever that creature was, I knew I couldn’t ignore its presence. As the coffee machine bubbled beside me, I struggled to calm my nerves. But even the comforting warmth of the drink couldn’t completely dispel the fear that clung to me like a sinister shadow. As I sat in an empty chair in the lobby area, my eyes wandered into the darkness beyond the windows, a shiver running down my spine as I pondered what might be hidden in that darkness.
Hours passed, and I began to calm down. It was almost 4 a.m. now, and everything seemed to have been just a feverish and strange dream, and indeed, I would have believed it and wouldn’t even have written this account if it weren’t for what happened next:
As I took one last walk around the outer perimeter, I heard a noise that, for me, was a trigger. It was that low, guttural sound that the creature had made before. I was more alert now and could clearly hear where it was coming from. It was from one of the windows. I ran over there, and as I approached, I realized whose room it was. I looked through the window, and dear God, why did I do that? It was Bill’s room. He was sitting at his desk, I could see him from behind as he worked on something on the computer.
Suddenly he stopped, his arms falling to his sides as if turned off, and his head falling onto the keyboard. The hair covering his neck began to move, shaking in a strange way, and then I held back the bile rising back up my throat. Something began to emerge from his head, a slimy body covered in blood and fat. That worm I had seen emerged from Bill’s inert body, wriggling in sickening pleasure. I was paralyzed, unable to look away from that disgusting sight.
I watched helplessly the creature began to move, falling from its host and crawling across the floor towards the door, leaving a slimy trail on the carpet wherever it went. My heart was pounding uncontrollably in my chest, my brain screaming at me to flee, but my feet felt glued to the ground. It lifted its tail and began to scratch at the door, as it did on the outside, until its tail reached the doorknob and turned it, allowing its exit. I found myself driven by curiosity and returned to the hotel lobby, determined to find some clue that could help me understand what was happening.
As I walked through the empty corridors, a sense of paranoia took hold of me. Every subtle sound made me jump, every shadow seemed to conceal an imminent threat. I felt like a cornered prey, surrounded by an invisible enemy. That’s when I came across a slightly ajar door, a dim light leaking from underneath. Instinctively, I approached, my heart beating faster with the anticipation of what I might find on the other side.
I cautiously pushed the door open, and what I saw sent chills down my spine.
The creature was at the bedside, atop one of the guests. It had inserted a tube that extended from its mouth into the ear of the sleeping person, pulsations moving, indicating that something was shifting, going from the worm to the human. I could only come to the conclusion that it was some kind of “fertilization”; it was laying eggs in people…
With cautious steps, I silently approached the creature; it hadn’t noticed my presence yet. I didn’t have my weapon with me, so I had to improvise. Without a second thought, I grabbed one of the nearest objects - a table lamp - and prepared to strike.
With a cry of despair, I delivered a precise blow to the creature, aiming for its repulsive head. The lamp shattered against it, causing a dull thud in the room. The creature emitted a sharp cry of pain, its body writhing in response to the blow, retracting that tube back into its body. But I didn’t stop there. With adrenaline coursing through me, I continued to deliver more and more blows, putting all my strength into it.
With each blow, the creature writhed and thrashed, emitting sounds of agony. And then, finally, with one last precise blow, I managed to crush its head. It trembled for a few seconds before ceasing completely. I grabbed the body with a bag, still afraid it would suddenly move again, I threw it in the toilet and put a heavy wooden stool on top of the lid.
Panting and covered in sweat, I looked at the sleeping guest on the bed, whose face was pale and contorted. Had he seen all of that? I helped him up, briefly explaining what had happened. He looked at me in shock. Together, we left the room and headed to the reception, where I called some local authorities. I knew they wouldn’t believe, so I just said I had found Bill unconscious in his office and unresponsive.
As they promised to be on their way, fear permeated the air when I heard that horrible scratching noise again, coming from the back. I turned to the guy I had helped and asked him to stay there and not open the door, not even for me if he suspected anything.
I left the hotel and headed with quick steps to the back door, anticipating what I might find. The air was cold and dry, leaving my throat irritated after a few rapid breaths. As I approached the back of the building, I already had the flashlight in my hands, preparing to face one of those things again. However, when I got there, what I saw made me stop for a moment, and almost laugh. It was a cat, a pretty big cat, indeed, but a cat, scratching at the back door.
“Hey buddy, this place isn’t safe,” I said, gesturing to shoo it away. It got startled and, moving away from me, let out a growl. That was the most disturbing part. As it hissed at me, I saw, inside its mouth, where its tongue should have been, that thing, the spiral of teeth, the tubular and disgusting body.
I recoiled, quickly returning inside the hotel, locking us in. The police came shortly after.
In the end, they took Bill’s body for autopsy and mentioned something about investigating strange marks on the doors. But I knew they wouldn’t find anything other than common cats. I felt alone, isolated in my truth, while the world around me continued to spin as if nothing abnormal had happened. In the weeks that followed, things at the hotel changed. The scratch marks mysteriously disappeared, and the raccoons became our biggest problem again, rummaging through the trash unaware of the terror that had unfolded during the night. But I couldn’t shake off a persistent feeling of unease, as if it were just a pause, a hibernation period…
I left the job at the hotel and moved away from that damned place. But the memories of that experience haunt me to this day, tormenting me with the memory of that repulsive creature and the scratch marks that seemed to contain a dark secret. And though I tried to leave it all behind, one thing is certain: cat scratches will never be just innocent marks to me again. And the horror I experienced at that hotel will haunt my nightmares forever.