The Hotel
It was going to be a long holiday at my college, and I was traveling home by bus. There were only fifteen people on board. After some time, the bus stopped in front of a massive old hotel.
The area around it was deserted — forest and mountains at the back, an empty highway in front. All of us got down to stretch our legs and moved towards the hotel.
The place was huge but eerily quiet. At the reception sat a frail old man, his half-closed eyes struggling to stay open. I asked him for a room, but he didn’t respond as if he couldn’t hear me.
Since the bus would stop here for two hours, I decided to find a restroom. Upstairs, I spotted a board that read: “Free Restrooms for Students.” Relieved, I went in, sat down… and accidentally fell asleep.
When I woke up, the room felt different — filthy, reeking, littered with bundles of old newspapers. Out of curiosity, I opened one. It carried a headline from years ago:
“15 People Commit Suicide in Local Hotel. Place Left Abandoned Ever Since.”
A chill ran down my spine. I hurried out and headed to the lift, hoping to go up to the terrace for some fresh air.
The elevator was slow and empty. But then — a sudden sound echoed behind me. When I turned, someone was there. They let out a piercing scream. Terrified, I froze, then forced the lift to stop and ran blindly down the hall.
When I reached a window to look outside, the bus was gone. I searched my pockets — my phone was missing too. Maybe I had left it in the restroom. My chest tightened. No bus. No phone. No stairs to escape this floor.
The silence pressed down on me. Then, from above, I saw a body plunge past the window — smashing into the ground below. My breath caught. One by one, more bodies fell. Soon, a crowd of broken figures lay beneath.
When I turned, a man stood behind me. His calmness was unsettling.
“This happens here every day,” he said softly. “Guests see things in their rooms, in the lifts… and sometimes they watch people fall from the roof. If you’re smart, you’ll leave.”
He added that most rooms still had telephones I could use to call for help.
I entered the nearest room, but it was empty — no telephone at all. Just as I was stepping out, three people appeared inside, standing motionless, their eyes fixed on me. One screamed suddenly. Panic gripped me, and I bolted for the lift.
As I pressed the button frantically, I heard footsteps — someone running at me with terrifying speed. Thankfully the elevator arrived, and I leapt inside.
But fate was merciless. The lift opened not on the ground floor, but into a ruined basement.
The corridors were shattered, dim, abandoned. From behind a glass door, I heard the sound of people crying. Against my better judgment, I entered.
It was a cavernous basement, dim bulbs flickering weakly along the walls. On the floor, a group of people sat staring directly at me, eyes wide, dark red as though filled with blood. My stomach twisted.
Then I saw him — tied against the wall — the bus driver. But aged, twisted, unnaturally thin, with long white hair and hollow eyes.
I couldn’t bear it. I ran, the shrieks of the others chasing me. Somehow, through the faint light, I found the lift again. In my panic, I pressed the wrong button. The doors opened on the terrace.
There, more people stood silently along the boundary… and then, one by one, they jumped.
I wanted out. Just one way — get my phone from the restroom and call the police. But when I reached it, the restroom was spotless, freshly painted, and the phone was still missing.
Terrified and exhausted, I decided to run. I reached the ground floor and sprinted outside. The moment I stepped beyond the hotel gate—
Darkness.
When I opened my eyes, I was back in the basement. The old bus conductor was tied there again.
I demanded, “What’s happening? Am I trapped here?”
The driver spoke in a broken, weary voice:
“Fifteen years ago, a bus came here. There were fifteen passengers. At that time, this hotel had just opened. But before it stood here, this land belonged to a tantrik. When he was forced out, he cursed it — saying no one would ever find peace here.
Out of those passengers, fourteen jumped from the roof. Only one remained — you. And I… I was cursed to remain here, waiting.
You are the last. The hotel trapped you too. Once you accept this, all of us can be free of the curse.”
My blood ran cold. “What? Fifteen years? I’ve been here since then? I’m dead?”
He looked at me with pity.
“No. You are not alive. You are stuck — reliving the same day again and again.”
I refused to believe it. I ran back to the ground floor, screaming in denial. Outside, everything blurred. My vision darkened and...
It was going to be a long holiday at my college, and I was traveling home by bus. There were only fifteen people on board. After some time, the bus stopped in front of a massive old hotel.
this is my only gripe with arm but at least I think industry standards are changing and everyone is taking risc seriously so if the giants are noticing it, the monopoly can easily be avoided