Horror Hotel Stories Novels & Stories

“Telling you would give you the answer to who my father is, and I don’t tell anyone that.” “Why not?” He doesn’t give an answer, but he keeps staring down at me in the small space. “How are you sure the wendigo is here?” I ask quietly, breaking the silence. “In the last few weeks there have been constant problems at the hotel with the guests,” Caleb says. He pulls out his phone and scrolls through the recent news reports for me to see. It shows a hell of a lot of human deaths. All of them went to this hotel before going batshit crazy. Other reports show humans who have stolen from banks after staying here, and the reports go on, just getting worse.

Author’s POV **20 YEARS LATER...** **Blue Stars Hotel – Private Room 203** The heavy bass from the hotel bar vibrated through the walls as laughter and loud music filled the air. Inside Private Room 203, things had turned ugly. A young woman named Hazel Lett was backed against the wall, her eyes wide with terror. Three drunk men surrounded her, their hands grabbing at her clothes. One of them laughed loudly as he ripped her thin top, tearing it to shreds. Another pulled a pair of scissors from his pocket and started cutting her jeans.

Jessica's voice went dead serious. "This manor has thirty floors. The monsters on the lower floors? They're simple. Predictable. They work on pure instinct. Learn their patterns, and you can survive. Treat them like traps. But the higher you go... the ones at the top are a different breed entirely. They won't just kill you. They'll shatter your sanity in seconds. They'll show you what true terror really is." "She's right," Brad chimed in, his smile turning predatory.

It made no sense. I pulled up to the house. Nathan came in yesterday. It was nearly two in the morning, and Nathan should have been asleep or at least trying to sleep. I parked the car in the garage. I saw the night nurse, Zora, on the phone. She looked up from her phone, wide eyed. “Oh, dear God! There you are. Did you get my texts? I’d been texting you for an hour!” I looked at my phone. There had been a dozen texts from her. I hadn’t been able to see them with my phone locked away in the club. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t able to get to my phone. What is it?”

The conference room was empty except for them. It was 11 PM on a Friday night at an academic convention in Boston, and instead of being at the cocktail reception where they were supposed to be networking, Marcus and Sienna had found themselves alone in one of the hotel's private meeting spaces. The kind of room designed for confidential discussions, all dark wood and soundproofing. Sienna was still wearing her conference blazer and the black dress underneath, the one that had been distracting him all day. Her dark eyes had that intensity they got when she was focused on something she wanted, and right now, that something was him.

“Harold, we both know you like her because she has a curvier buttocks.” He broke into a loud laughter, and I could hear him almost choking up. “I like her for who she is.” “You barely even know her man.” “Well I know that she has a good amount of ass and hips, and that is enough.” “Nah, that is good but not enough to pick a life partner.” He sighed and I heard a thud. “If you say say so. Would you mate in this hotel after the both of you fulfill your marriage rites?” “Nah, we are going to the Werewolf Den. That is where we are supposed to mate because that is where the full moon alights the most.”

He enjoyed them too, especially when the movie was awful, and they could spend the whole time making fun of it. But when they arrived at the hotel, Rose was informed there had been a booking error—there were no available rooms. Pissed off, she returned to the car and searched for other places nearby. By the time the third hotel turned them away, explaining that a big business expo had everything booked, Rose knew they were in trouble. Neither of them wanted to drive much farther, so she kept searching until she finally found a motel that claimed to have one room left. The price was outrageous—nearly what they would have paid for the four-star hotel—but Rose, desperate to secure a place for t

Author's POV Mikhail stood in front of the hotel which was deserted. He somewhere had a feeling that this place has connection with all the mysteries. The creepiness of the place was always suspicious. "Hotel Hywala!" Jeh read the name sign which was falling off. "This looks like a haunted house. Where is everyone? Why is this hotel in such a bad condition? It's a beautiful place, why is the owner wasting this property?" He looked at the beautiful greenery around.

The motel stood in front of them, old and faded, the neon sign buzzing weakly in the dark. Clara carried the luggage, ushering her daughter inside quickly. The lobby smelled faintly of stale smoke and cleaning products that couldn’t quite mask years of wear. She forced a thin smile at the receptionist, signed in, and hurried Amelia down the corridor. The hallway lights flickered, the carpet worn thin with age. Amelia tightened her grip on Clara’s hand. “Mommy,” she whispered, her eyes darting nervously. “Why is this hotel so… scary?” Clara squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Ah, well, remember—we’re not going to the usual hotel vacation. This one’s different. It’s just for a little while.”

The next second, the Patchwork Monster tore the man in half. He tossed the body outside casually. Just then, a crisp, bell-like voice sounded outside. “It’s after work hours, who’s so rude as to be throwing bodies around?” A young girl with three heads and eight arms appeared at the doorway. With just one look at the shop, anger filled her voice, and her hair stood on end. “Who the hell had a death wish and smashed the Number One Must-Eat shop in the entire horror game?”