As I approached the hotel, a chill ran down my spine. It appeared somewhat creepy, with only a few dim lights scattered throughout. Exhausted from a day of driving since dawn, I couldn’t continue any longer. The hotel seemed to have seen better days, once a grand establishment, but now it stood with a hint of abandonment. Its size was notable, but the lack of lights in the windows hinted at a dwindling number of guests.
To my surprise, there was no one present at the reception desk. However, a figure that resembled a caretaker lay sprawled across one of the couches in the waiting area, fast asleep. As I stepped further into the lobby, the slumbering individual seemed to sense my arrival, jolting awake in an instant, as if awakened by an unseen force. His sudden responsiveness hinted at a keen awareness of his surroundings, and he promptly rose from the couch, ready to attend to my needs.
The man standing before me was of modest stature, measuring around 5 feet and 5 inches, and appeared to be in his early 40s. However, there was an unsettling peculiarity in his demeanor. Whenever our gazes met, he would abruptly shift his eyes away, looking behind over my shoulder.
With a wearied voice, he inquired, “Are you in search of a room?” It became evident that he bore the weight of numerous responsibilities, single-handedly juggling the various roles required to keep this establishment afloat.
“Yes, just for tonight,” I replied wearily, the exhaustion of my journey seeping into my words.
After completing the necessary check-in procedures, the man kindly guided me to my room on the second floor. The corridor stretched out before us, seemingly never-ending, and he assigned me a room at the farthest end. I would have preferred a room closer to the elevators, but it seemed that all the smoking rooms were tucked away in this secluded corner.
Upon entering the room, I couldn’t help but notice its less-than-ideal condition. It was far from remarkable, but I deemed it sufficient for a mere night’s stay. However, as I settled in, peculiar events began to unfold.
Having changed into more comfortable attire, I ventured out onto the balcony to indulge in a cigarette. It was then that an unexpected sound shattered the stillness of the night—a doorbell ringing.
“Room service, sir,” a voice called out from behind the door.
I extinguished my cigarette and, slightly irritated by the interruption, proceeded to answer the doorbell. To my surprise, it was the same attendant from earlier, standing before me once again. I couldn’t help but express my annoyance, “What is it? I didn’t request any room service.”
The helper seemed unperturbed by my reaction and replied, “We received a call from this room, sir. The message mentioned a clogged sink issue.”
I attempted to dismiss his claim, wanting to put an end to the matter. “You must have mistaken the room. I didn’t make any call.”
However, he persisted, disregarding my protest. “Please, sir, allow me to check once. This room has frequently encountered such problems.” His insistence struck me as peculiar, but before I could respond, he made his way towards the bathroom.
Confused and somewhat agitated, I followed him into the bathroom, demanding an explanation for his behavior.
As the helper turned on the tap, the sink emitted a gurgling sound, confirming his earlier claim of a clog. He swiftly took out a container of drainage powder and skillfully applied it, accompanied by some adjustments to the pump. Remarkably, the sink began to drain properly once again.
With the issue seemingly resolved, I contemplated retiring for the night. However, the presence of the helper still lingering in the room made me uneasy. Deciding to step outside for a smoke, I made my way to the balcony. To my astonishment, I noticed three cigarette butts occupying the ashtray. Perplexed, I recalled having smoked only one cigarette earlier.
Returning indoors, a sense of unease crept over me, as if something was amiss. Upon closer inspection, I discovered both bottles of water had been opened, although I distinctly remembered opening only one. The arrangement of the pillows seemed disturbed, as if recently shifted, and the bedsheets appeared slightly disheveled, as if someone had recently occupied the bed.
As the helper made his way out of the room, satisfied with his fix, I couldn’t resist stopping him. However, the strange occurrence that had been bothering me felt too bizarre to put into words.
“Listen…” I began to speak, but the words eluded me. The situation felt inexplicable, and I hesitated to voice my concerns.
“Nothing, thank you for your assistance,” I eventually managed to say, allowing the helper to leave.
Perhaps it was just fatigue playing tricks on my mind. With that thought, I convinced myself that it was best to dismiss the peculiarities and try to get some sleep. I switched off the lights, preparing to drift off into slumber. However, just as I was about to succumb to exhaustion, a distinct sound reached my ears—a click as the bathroom door locked, followed by the unmistakable sound of the shower.
It wasn’t merely the rush of water against the tiles; it sounded as if someone were taking a bath. The sensation sent chills down my spine, and instinctively, I moved towards the bathroom door. Rational thoughts of horror movie clichés crossed my mind, questioning why characters often investigate rather than fleeing. But in reality, faced with something inexplicable, curiosity and a desire to uncover the truth overwhelm our instinct to flee.
The helper’s gaze bore into me, a mix of skepticism and concern playing across his face. In that moment, I became certain that my earlier experiences were mere products of my sleep-deprived mind, twisted hallucinations that had toyed with my senses. Determined to dismiss the strange occurrences, I switched off the lights, seeking solace in the embrace of sleep, aided by my exhaustion.
However, my respite was short-lived. In the depths of the night, I abruptly awoke to the unmistakable sound of someone snoring. It wasn’t a distant noise from a neighboring room. No, it emanated from the immediate vicinity of my bed. Filled with trepidation, I quickly switched on the light on my side, only to find emptiness and silence. Had I imagined the snoring? Was it a lingering echo from a dream?
Shaking off the unsettling sensation, I turned off the light, pulling the pillow tightly over my head in an attempt to drown out any lingering fears. I focused my mind on pleasant thoughts, desperately seeking refuge in the realm of positivity, hoping to avoid any further distressing dreams.
Yet, as the night progressed, I was jolted awake once more, this time by the unmistakable sound of something breaking. The room was suddenly bathed in an unwelcome brightness as the lights inexplicably switched on. My gaze was drawn towards the other side of the bed, where the sound had originated. There, I saw a broken glass, its shattered remains strewn across the side table. It was the very same glass that had previously sat innocently on the table. The realization hit me like a thunderbolt—I wasn’t dreaming, and I wasn’t hallucinating. It was as if I am sharing the room with some invisible entity.
Desperate to escape the haunting presence in my room, I was too tired to drive and find another hotel, I was hoping to at least find a different room. Gathering my belongings, I descended the stairs and approached the slumbering helper once more, rousing him from his deep sleep.
“There’s something terribly amiss with my current room. I must change to another one. It doesn’t have to be a smoking room,” I pleaded, hoping for a swift resolution.
To my relief, the helper seemed understanding of my distress, offering a swift response, “Very well, sir. I will arrange for a different room for you.”
Handing over the key, the helper’s statement perplexed me. “Here’s the key, it’s on the same floor just next to the staircase. You both can shift over there.”
Confusion filled my voice as I responded, “Both? What? But I am alone.” A sudden realization dawned upon me, causing my heart to skip a beat. I couldn’t shake off the memory of the helper’s frequent glances over my shoulders during our interaction. Why had he consistently looked beyond me, as if acknowledging the presence of someone or something unseen?
The thought sent a chill down my spine.
With a surge of adrenaline, I sprinted out of the hotel towards parking, propelled by an overwhelming urgency to escape the confines of that eerie hotel. I could drive a bit far away and probably just sleep in my car rather than be here. Thoughts ran in my head, “What did he mean by both? Who is he seeing with me?”
Sliding into the driver’s seat, I hastily started the engine, eager to put as much distance as possible between myself and that enigmatic place. However, my relief was short-lived as the car’s incessant beeping pierced the air, accompanied by the seat belt warning light illuminating on the dashboard. Puzzled, I glanced down, only to realize that I was already securely fastened by my seat belt.