Four: The Hidden Diary
932 Words
The whisper brushed against Elena's ear like a cold breath.
"You're the thirteenth manager... and you're going to die."
Her entire body froze.
Every instinct screamed at her to run, but her legs refused to move.
Slowly, she turned around.
No one.
The library was empty.
The candles suddenly flared back to life, one after another, bathing the room in warm golden light as though nothing had happened.
Elena's breathing came in short, uneven gasps.
She searched every corner of the library.
Behind the bookshelves.
Under the reading tables.
Near the windows.
There was no little girl.
No footprints.
No sign that anyone else had been there.
Her eyes drifted back to the journal lying open on the table.
The final page had changed.
She was certain it had only contained one sentence before.
Now another line had appeared beneath the repeated warning.
"If you're reading this... it's already too late."
A chill swept through her.
Someone had written that only moments ago.
But she hadn't seen anyone enter.
"Miss Hart?"
Elena nearly screamed.
She spun around to find Daniel standing in the doorway with a tray of coffee.
"I'm sorry!" he said quickly. "I didn't mean to scare you."
She placed a hand over her racing heart.
"You almost gave me a heart attack."
Daniel laughed awkwardly before noticing the journal.
"You found it."
"You know about this?"
He hesitated.
"I've... seen it before."
"Whose diary is it?"
"No one knows."
"Then why is it here?"
Daniel lowered his voice.
"Because it always comes back."
Elena frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"It disappears."
"Someone throws it away."
"Burns it."
Locks it up."
"But sooner or later..."
"It returns to the library."
He looked genuinely frightened.
Before Elena could ask another question, Vivienne's voice echoed from the hallway.
"Daniel."
He immediately straightened.
"Coming!"
He looked back at Elena.
"Forget you ever found that diary."
Then he hurried away.
Elena couldn't.
Instead, she slipped the diary into her handbag.
If someone wanted it hidden, it probably contained answers.
As she left the library, she felt as though someone was watching her.
She glanced behind.
Nothing.
Still...
The feeling remained.
That afternoon, Damien called her to inspect several guest suites.
They walked side by side through the western wing.
For the first time, Elena noticed he wasn't as cold as he appeared.
He thanked employees by name.
Stopped to help an elderly guest carry a suitcase.
Asked a young waiter about his sick mother.
There was kindness beneath his reserved exterior.
"You surprise me," Elena admitted.
Damien looked amused.
"In what way?"
"I expected a billionaire hotel owner to be... less approachable."
He smiled faintly.
"Money doesn't make anyone more important."
She smiled back.
Their conversation flowed naturally as they discussed hotel operations, customer service, and future improvements.
For a brief moment, Blackwood Manor felt almost normal.
Then they reached the end of the corridor.
There, hidden behind a velvet rope, stood another hallway.
The East Wing.
Damien's smile disappeared instantly.
"What happened here?" Elena asked.
His eyes remained fixed on the dark corridor.
"It should have been demolished years ago."
"But it wasn't."
"No."
"Why?"
He remained silent.
She noticed the pain in his expression.
Whatever had happened there...
It still haunted him.
That evening, rain battered the manor once again.
Unable to stop thinking about the diary, Elena locked herself inside her room.
She carefully opened it.
Most pages described ordinary hotel duties.
Guest complaints.
Staff meetings.
Inventory records.
Then the tone changed.
Day 18
"I heard someone crying behind the walls."
Day 20
"The owner says I'm imagining things."
Day 24
"Someone followed me through the East Wing."
Elena turned another page.
The handwriting became shakier.
More desperate.
Day 31
"There is no Room 309 on the guest map."
She frowned.
That couldn't be right.
She distinctly remembered seeing the brass number on the door.
She continued reading.
Day 35
"The hotel changes at night."
Day 37
"I saw myself walking down the hallway."
Elena's hands trembled.
This was madness.
Then she reached the final written page.
Unlike the others, it wasn't signed.
Instead, one sentence was written in large, uneven letters.
"Trust no one... not even Damien."
A knock suddenly echoed at her door.
Three slow knocks.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Elena's heart lurched.
She glanced at the bedside clock.
8:43 p.m.
Not after two.
She cautiously approached the door.
"Who is it?"
"It's Damien."
She relaxed slightly and opened it.
Damien stood outside, his expression unusually serious.
"I need to ask you something."
"Of course."
He looked past her into the room.
"Have you found anything unusual today?"
For a split second, Elena considered telling him about the diary.
But the final warning echoed in her mind.
"Trust no one... not even Damien."
She forced a smile.
"No."
He studied her carefully.
It was as though he knew she was lying.
Finally, he nodded.
"If anything strange happens..."
"Tell me immediately."
"I will."
He turned to leave.
As he walked away, Elena noticed something sticking out of his coat pocket.
It looked exactly like the same kind of leather journal she had hidden beneath her pillow.
She frowned.
Did Damien have another copy?
Just as she closed the door, she heard him stop in the hallway.
Without turning around, he spoke softly.
"Whatever you found..."
"...don't read after midnight."
Then he continued walking.
Elena stared at the diary lying on her bed.
The clock on the wall ticked steadily toward midnight.
Outside, thunder rumbled across the sky.
Inside the diary...
One of the pages slowly turned by itself.
for you."
- Writer
