"Room 237: Do Not Open This Door"

Room 237: Do Not Open This Door

[ By Hazrat Bilal ]

There were three rules at the Morningside Hotel.

1. No loud music after 10 PM.


2. No guests after midnight.


3. And whatever you do — do not open the door to Room 237.



I thought they were joking. Every old building has its ghost stories, especially hotels that look like they haven’t had a renovation since the '70s. Faded wallpaper, brass keys, elevators that creaked louder than thunder. The Morningside was cheap, though. And after a breakup, an eviction, and losing my job — cheap was all I had.

The receptionist was an old woman with eyes too sharp for her age. She didn’t smile when I checked in.
“You’ll be in Room 236. Right next to... it,” she said, tapping her pen on the registry. “Don’t wander after midnight. And don’t be curious. Curiosity kills.”

I gave a half-laugh. “You’re joking, right?”
Her face didn’t move. “This place has stood for over 80 years. Room 237 has never been opened since 1975. Let’s keep it that way.”

I nodded, but deep down, I was already curious.


---

Room 236 was clean, in that old dusty sort of way. The walls were thin. I could hear the hum of the vending machine down the hall and the constant dripping of the sink in the bathroom.

But more than anything — I could hear the door next to mine. Room 237.

It creaked randomly. As if someone inside was shifting. Moving. Breathing.

I stared at it through the peephole once. Nothing. Just an old wooden door with a scratched brass number plate. But as I turned away, I thought I heard a whisper.

“Come in...”


---

The first night passed in restless sleep. But on the second night, around 2:13 AM, I was jolted awake by a knock.

Three soft knocks.

I sat up in bed. My room door was locked. I checked the hallway through the peephole. Empty.

But then I noticed something:
The door to Room 237 was slightly open.

Just a sliver. Enough for a shadow to peek through. But there was no shadow. No light. Only blackness.

My heart pounded.

I walked toward it slowly, barefoot, every board on the floor creaking. I reached out… just inches from pushing the door shut.

And then it slammed on its own.
Hard.
Like something didn’t want to be seen.


---

The next morning, I asked the receptionist.

“What happened in Room 237?”

She paused. Looked around. Lowered her voice.

“A young couple stayed there in 1975. Honeymooners. No one knows what happened — but the maid found them days later. Windows locked. Door from inside, bolted shut. Both dead. No signs of struggle. Just... gone. Expressions on their faces — like they saw something not meant for human eyes.”

I felt cold. “Why not remove the room? Or seal it?”

“We tried,” she whispered. “Every time someone boards it up… the boards come off. Every time we lock it, someone hears it unlock. The only rule now… is don’t open it.”


---

That night, I decided to leave in the morning.

But curiosity doesn’t sleep easily.

Around 1:50 AM, I heard movement again. My room light flickered. The air grew cold. And then…

Scratch... scratch... scratch...

From the other side of the wall. As if nails were dragging across it. I couldn’t take it anymore.

I opened my door.

And there it was.

Room 237 — wide open.

Inside was darkness. Pure, unnatural black. The kind that swallows sound and light. I took one step toward it.

And something inside moved.

A shape. Not man. Not beast. A presence. I couldn’t see it, but I felt it staring back at me.

My legs refused to move. My mouth opened, but no words came out.

Then I heard it again.

“Come in…”

Whispers all around me. Inside me. Telling me secrets I shouldn’t know. Regrets I never told anyone. My worst fears. My darkest thoughts.

The air thickened. I couldn't breathe.

Suddenly — a hand grabbed me from behind. It was the receptionist.

“You fool!” she hissed, pulling me away and slamming the door shut with all her strength. “Do you want it to follow you out?!”

We shoved a chair under the knob. Lit incense. She whispered prayers I didn’t recognize.

Only then… did the whispers stop.


---

I checked out before sunrise.

As I walked away from the Morningside Hotel, I looked back one last time.

The building stood quiet, windows still. But as I turned the corner, I could swear I heard...

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Room 237 waits.

And it remembers those who opened the door.


---

The End.