Five: The Message in the Diary
942 Words
The page stopped turning.
Elena stared in disbelief as black ink slowly spread across the blank paper, as though an invisible hand was writing each word.
"Hello, Elena..."
A second line appeared.
"I've been waiting for you."
Her mouth went dry.
She blinked several times, hoping her eyes were playing tricks on her. They weren't.
The words remained.
With trembling fingers, she picked up the diary.
"Who's doing this?" she whispered.
Silence answered her.
Then another sentence appeared.
"You don't have much time."
A cold chill crept through the room.
She snapped the diary shut and shoved it into the drawer of her bedside table.
"This isn't real," she muttered. "There has to be an explanation."
Just then, the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then everything went dark.
The room was swallowed by silence.
Outside, thunder cracked across the sky, illuminating the room for a brief second.
In that flash of light, Elena saw someone standing in the corner of her room.
A little girl.
Long black hair covered most of her face.
She wore the same pale dress Elena had seen near the fountain.
The child slowly raised one finger to her lips.
"Shhh..."
Another flash of lightning.
The corner was empty.
Elena gasped and stumbled backward, nearly falling onto the bed.
When the electricity returned a few seconds later, she searched every inch of the room.
Nothing.
No footprints.
No sign that anyone had been there.
The following morning, Elena decided she needed answers.
Enough hiding.
Enough strange warnings.
She headed straight for the reception desk, where Daniel was organizing guest files.
"Morning," he said with a smile.
"You don't look like you slept."
"I didn't."
His smile faded.
"Another knock?"
She nodded.
"And I found something else."
She leaned closer.
"The diary... it writes by itself."
Daniel's face lost all color.
"Keep your voice down."
"Why?"
"Because if Vivienne hears you talking about it..."
He glanced nervously over his shoulder.
"...you'll lose more than your job."
"What does that mean?"
Before Daniel could answer, Vivienne appeared.
Her footsteps were almost silent.
"Daniel."
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Table seven needs assistance."
He swallowed.
"Right away."
As he walked past Elena, he whispered so quietly she almost missed it.
"Meet me in the greenhouse after sunset."
Then he hurried away.
The rest of the day passed slowly.
Elena immersed herself in work, hoping to distract herself.
She greeted guests.
Checked reservations.
Inspected the kitchen.
The hotel's reputation suddenly made sense.
Its service was exceptional.
The staff worked tirelessly.
Everything appeared flawless.
Yet beneath the elegance, fear lingered in every employee's eyes.
Whenever Room 309 was mentioned—even by accident—conversations stopped.
People looked away.
No one spoke.
That afternoon, Damien found Elena reviewing guest records.
"How are you settling into the role?"
"I'm learning quickly."
"I expected you would."
He handed her an old brass key.
"This opens every room in the hotel."
She examined it.
It was surprisingly heavy.
"Every room?"
His expression hardened.
"Almost every room."
She looked up.
"Room 309?"
He took the key back immediately.
"No."
"The only key to that room disappeared years ago."
"Then how does anyone get inside?"
"No one does."
The certainty in his voice made Elena hesitate.
"If no one enters..."
"...how do you know what's inside?"
For a long moment, Damien said nothing.
Finally, he replied quietly,
"Because I was the last person who ever did."
Before she could ask another question, he walked away.
As evening settled over Blackwood Manor, thick clouds covered the sky once more.
Elena slipped out through the back entrance and followed the stone path toward the old greenhouse.
The glass building stood half-hidden beneath climbing ivy.
Most of its windows were cracked.
Inside, moonlight filtered through broken panes.
Daniel was already waiting.
He looked nervous.
"You came."
"You said you had answers."
He glanced around before speaking.
"My grandmother worked here."
"For forty years."
Elena listened carefully.
"Before she died..."
"...she told me never to trust the manor."
"Why?"
"Because the hotel doesn't choose managers."
"It chooses victims."
A cold breeze swept through the greenhouse.
Daniel continued.
"There have only been twelve managers before you."
"Every single one disappeared."
"I thought they resigned."
"That's what guests are told."
"What really happened?"
Daniel's voice dropped to a whisper.
"No one knows."
"They simply vanished."
"And every disappearance began the same way."
"The diary."
Elena's heart raced.
"So it's happened before?"
He nodded.
"My grandmother said the diary only appears for the next manager."
"And once it chooses you..."
"...it never lets go."
Suddenly—
A loud crash echoed outside.
Both of them jumped.
Someone had knocked over a flower pot.
Daniel rushed to the greenhouse door.
No one.
Only the wind.
He looked down.
A folded piece of paper lay on the ground.
Neither of them had seen it there before.
Daniel picked it up.
His hands trembled as he unfolded it.
Without a word, he handed it to Elena.
Written in dark ink were just five words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT YESTERDAY.
Before either of them could react—
A deafening scream echoed from inside the manor.
The sound was filled with terror.
Then...
It stopped.
Daniel's face turned white.
"Oh no..."
"What?"
"Someone's been taken."
The two of them sprinted toward Blackwood Manor.
As they reached the entrance hall, terrified staff members had gathered near the grand staircase.
Vivienne stood silently at the front of the crowd.
Damien knelt beside a pool of blood on the polished marble floor.
There was no body.
Only blood.
And lying in the center of it...
...was a silver hotel name badge.
It belonged to Marcus, the security guard.
- Writer
