Three: The First Night
854 Words
The doorknob turned once.
Then again.
Elena stared at it, unable to move. Her heart pounded so hard she could hear it in her ears.
The door was locked.
She had checked it herself.
Yet someone—or something—was trying to get inside.
Another soft knock echoed through the room.
"Elena..." the woman's voice whispered. "Please let me in. I'm cold."
The voice was calm and almost comforting. It reminded Elena of her mother, though she hadn't heard her mother's voice in years.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the blanket.
No.
Damien's warning rang through her mind.
"If anyone knocks on your bedroom door after 2:00 a.m., don't answer."
The handle stopped moving.
Silence.
Elena held her breath.
Perhaps whoever it was had gone away.
Then, from the other side of the door, came the sound of someone dragging their fingernails slowly across the wood.
Scrrrraaaape...
Scrrrraaaape...
The horrible sound sent chills down her spine.
Tears stung her eyes, but she forced herself to stay silent.
After what felt like forever, the scratching stopped.
Footsteps retreated down the hallway.
Only then did Elena dare breathe.
She stayed awake until sunrise.
Morning arrived with warm sunlight pouring through the curtains, making the events of the night feel almost unreal.
A nightmare, she told herself.
It had to be.
She dressed quickly and stepped into the hallway.
Nothing looked unusual.
Housekeepers polished the windows.
Waiters carried trays of breakfast.
A gardener watered flowers outside.
It was as though the terrifying events of the night had never happened.
Still, Elena noticed one thing.
Deep scratch marks ran across the outside of her bedroom door.
She reached out and touched them.
The wood had splintered.
Her stomach tightened.
She hadn't imagined anything.
Breakfast was served in the staff dining room.
Unlike the elegant guest restaurant, this room buzzed with quiet conversations.
Several employees smiled politely as Elena entered.
"Morning," a cheerful waiter greeted.
"I'm Daniel."
"I'm Elena."
"You survived your first night."
She frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Daniel laughed awkwardly.
"Nothing."
Across the table, another waitress kicked him under the chair.
"Ouch!"
She glared at him.
"Stop talking."
Daniel rubbed his shin.
"I'm just welcoming her."
The waitress looked at Elena apologetically.
"I'm Ava."
"If Daniel starts telling ghost stories, don't listen."
"There are no ghosts."
Daniel muttered under his breath.
"That's what they all say."
Before Elena could ask more questions, Vivienne entered.
Instant silence.
Every staff member immediately returned to eating.
Vivienne addressed Elena.
"Mr. Blackwood would like to see you."
Damien waited in his office, studying several documents.
Without looking up, he asked,
"How was your first night?"
Elena hesitated.
"I couldn't sleep."
He finally met her eyes.
"Did someone knock?"
She froze.
"How did you know?"
Instead of answering, he walked to the window.
"Did you open the door?"
"No."
"Good."
"Who was it?"
He remained silent.
"Mr. Blackwood?"
"There are questions you shouldn't ask yet."
Frustration flashed across Elena's face.
"I'm your hotel manager."
"If my safety is involved, I deserve answers."
Damien sighed.
"You deserve the truth."
He paused.
"But not today."
His answer only deepened her curiosity.
Elena spent the afternoon learning how the hotel operated.
She inspected guest rooms.
Reviewed reservations.
Met the chefs.
Checked inventory.
Everything appeared surprisingly normal.
By lunchtime she had almost convinced herself that the manor's strange atmosphere was simply the result of old architecture and nervous employees.
Until she reached the security office.
Inside sat dozens of surveillance monitors.
Every hallway.
Every staircase.
Every entrance.
A young security guard named Marcus smiled.
"Want to see something interesting?"
"Sure."
He rewound footage from the previous night.
2:01 a.m.
The camera outside Elena's room appeared on the screen.
Elena leaned closer.
The hallway was empty.
No woman.
No visitor.
No one knocking.
Yet...
On the recording...
Her doorknob slowly turned by itself.
Marcus frowned.
"That's odd."
Elena's blood ran cold.
She remembered the voice.
The knocking.
The scratching.
But the camera showed absolutely nothing.
That evening, Elena wandered into the hotel library.
Thousands of books lined towering shelves.
Dust danced in beams of fading sunlight.
An old journal lay open on a reading table.
Curious, she picked it up.
Inside, someone had written in elegant handwriting:
"Manager's Journal."
There was no name.
She turned the page.
"Day One."
"The owner seems kind, but everyone here is hiding something."
Elena frowned.
She turned another page.
"Day Three."
"Someone knocks every night."
Her breathing quickened.
She flipped through more pages.
"Day Twelve."
"I saw a little girl near the fountain."
Her hands trembled.
Those were the exact things she had experienced.
The final page contained only one sentence written over and over again.
"Don't open Room 309."
"Don't open Room 309."
"Don't open Room 309."
The ink became darker with each repetition until it tore through the paper.
Suddenly—
The library door slammed shut.
Every candle flickered out.
The room plunged into darkness.
A little girl's laughter echoed between the bookshelves.
Elena spun around.
"Who's there?"
No answer.
Only the faint sound of footsteps...
Walking slowly toward her from somewhere in the darkness.
- Writer
