The Last Room

The Blakely Hotel was famous in the small town of Norbury, but not for the reasons any hotel manager would hope. The grand old building, once a luxurious escape for the wealthy, had fallen into decay and ruin after a series of mysterious incidents. Guests would check in, but they wouldn’t always check out. The fourth floor was notorious; it was the last place any of the missing guests were seen. For years, people whispered of haunted rooms and cursed hallways. But there was one room, Room 404, that no one dared to even speak of.

When Ben, a horror enthusiast, heard of the Blakely’s infamous fourth floor, he was immediately intrigued. Along with his girlfriend Alice and his two friends, Greg and Sarah, he decided to spend the night there. They were eager to explore, certain that the hotel’s reputation was exaggerated, nothing more than local superstition to spook thrill-seekers.

The manager, a weary old man with hollow eyes, watched them with a knowing look as he handed them the keys. “If you’re going up to the fourth floor,” he warned, “stay out of Room 404. It’s not... safe.” His voice trembled slightly, and for a moment, Ben almost reconsidered. Almost.

“Don’t worry,” Ben replied, smirking. “We’re just here to look around. We won’t bother your precious room.”

But curiosity is a dangerous thing, especially when mingled with disbelief.

The friends climbed the winding staircase, the creaky steps groaning beneath their weight. As they reached the fourth floor, a chill hung in the air, thick and oppressive. The walls seemed to close in around them, the wallpaper peeling as though the building itself were shedding its skin.

They explored the dimly lit hall, pointing their flashlights at cracked mirrors, faded portraits, and the numbered plaques on each door. At the end of the hallway, Room 404 loomed, its door slightly ajar, casting a sliver of shadow into the hallway. It was as if the room was inviting them in.

“I thought he said it was off-limits?” Sarah whispered, glancing at Ben.

He grinned, shrugging. “Probably just a scare tactic. Don’t you want to know what’s inside?”

Despite their apprehension, the others nodded, unable to resist the pull of the forbidden room.

Ben pushed the door open, revealing a dark, untouched room. The wallpaper was a sickly green, and the floor was covered in dust. The air was thick with the smell of mildew and something sharper—metallic, almost like blood.

In the middle of the room was an antique bed, the sheets disheveled, as though someone had left in a hurry. A full-length mirror stood in the corner, its glass clouded and cracked. The reflection seemed to shimmer unnaturally, capturing their forms in strange, distorted angles.

“I don’t like this,” Alice whispered, clutching Ben’s arm. “It feels… wrong.”

“Come on, it’s just an old room,” Ben scoffed, though his own voice wavered. “Let’s take some photos and head out.”

But as they began to snap pictures, the door creaked and shut behind them. Greg tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. Panic settled in, an invisible weight pressing down on their chests.

Then, a low whisper filled the room, a faint, breathy sound that seemed to come from everywhere at once. It was like a choir of voices, each overlapping the other, murmuring in a language none of them recognized.

The mirror’s surface rippled, like a stone tossed into water. Shadows writhed within the glass, contorting into twisted, nightmarish figures. One by one, the shadows took shape—their own faces, staring back at them, only… wrong. Their eyes were sunken, mouths twisted into grotesque, silent screams.

Suddenly, Sarah gasped, clutching her chest. “I… I can’t breathe…”

Ben watched in horror as Sarah’s reflection reached out from the mirror, an arm stretching impossibly long, reaching for her. Her face paled, and she stumbled back, eyes wide with terror as the shadowy hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her towards the glass.

“Help me!” she cried, but the room seemed to swallow her scream.

Greg grabbed her arm, pulling with all his strength, but the force was too strong. With one final scream, Sarah was dragged into the mirror, her body vanishing as her distorted reflection grinned back at them, watching from behind the glass.

The others stumbled back, terrified, but the whispers grew louder, now chanting their names, mocking and relentless. They tried to pry the door open, but it held firm, as if sealed by an invisible force.

Alice backed away from the mirror, her face ashen. “Ben… it’s pulling us in. It’s… hungry.”

Before he could react, Greg’s reflection came to life, grinning with a malice that sent chills down Ben’s spine. Greg’s mirror-image lunged out, wrapping shadowy fingers around his real self, pulling him closer, closer until he was swallowed into the glass. His face twisted in horror before it became still, just another wretched soul trapped in the dark glass.

Alice clung to Ben, trembling. “We have to find a way out of here.”

But when he looked at her, he saw her reflection in the mirror, already twisted, already staring at him with empty, hollow eyes. The mirror was absorbing them, piece by piece, until there would be nothing left but shadows.

Desperate, Ben grabbed a heavy, rusted chair and hurled it at the mirror. The glass shattered with a deafening crash, shards flying everywhere. For a brief moment, silence filled the room.

But then, slowly, he saw them—the faces of his friends, their reflections in every broken shard, all of them watching him, their mouths whispering words he could not hear, their eyes pleading for release.

The door finally creaked open behind him, and Ben stumbled out of the room, barely daring to look back. But as he left the hotel, he felt a strange pull, a sense that part of him had stayed behind.

When he got home, he avoided mirrors for weeks, the memory of Room 404 haunting his every step. But one night, he couldn’t resist. He glanced into his bathroom mirror and froze.

Staring back at him was a face he did not recognize—his own, yet twisted, hollow, and hungry. The reflection raised a hand, mirroring his every move, except for the faint, cruel smile that crept onto its face, whispering the words he feared he would never escape:

“You’re one of us now.”

Thank you for reading this haunting tale of The Last Room! If you enjoyed it and felt the chills, please hit the like button and share this story to spread the spook! 🎃