HOUSE OF HVELL 3

SUBJECT: Hotel (1/7)

25/10/2024
Friday.

WEEPING ANGEL

Dear [REDACTED],

I can finally say that the 'creepy' hotel from that email was indeed real. I told you it wasn't a scam!

All those hypotheticals you made up really were just in your head. That is to say, there is something creepy about a dilapidated mansion in the middle of northern England. I, however, plan to keep an open mind. It doesn't seem so bad...

Since I booked a room here for a whole week - or I guess until next Thursday, it'll be easier if I just split my emails into seven pieces. If we really do write a piece about it, at least we'd know exactly when what happened. You understand right? Plus, the Wi-Fi here really is terrible, I don't think one long email will even send. Since you wanted a detailed documentation, I guess I'll just recount my first day here...

Picture this, it's a cold, dark, October night. Rain is pouring, roads are all muddy, and I can barely see out of my windshield as I'm navigating through countless run-down, country-side homes. Then, as lightning strikes the road in front of me, I see a sign saying 'You are now leaving Gormsey'. Of course, I assume I'm lost. I'd been driving since morning, and I don't remember the GPS or Google Maps mentioning any sort of village with this name. Before the panic sets in though, I see a structure through the trees, and sure enough, it's the hotel.

There were hardly any streetlamps, so it was difficult to make out, but when I turned on the full beam headlights, I saw that the mansion itself was tall – about three stories and an attic. Looked like something built during the Victorian era, but I guess it had been renovated over time, even the wealthiest of families didn't own homes this large. Despite the weird statues and decorations, the structure itself was quite ordinary. Red brick walls, a black roof and dark trimmings, with a sort of sage-green and off-white accents to the windows and doors. I took a picture, it's a bit shaky but I'll attach it underneath.

Wasn't sure where to park my car at first, the mansion is enclosed in this rusty metal fence, with a little unkept pond on the right. I just left my car on the little driveway outside. I also expected the gate to be locked, but oddly enough, with a gentle tug it opened, and I entered the building.

For a second, I thought I had just trespassed into some random person's house, there was no sign of life, (almost) complete darkness inside. I could make out a large door in between two sets of stairs, so I wandered through it – luckily, this was the reception. Weird layout. There was a girl sat at the desk in front of me, looked to be around my age. She had a brown bob reaching just past her chin, thick brows, and dark eyes – very dark, her eyebags made it look like she had been working at that desk for an eternity. She was dressed rather formal (ironic considering the chewed-up cigarette in her mouth), with a skinny, boyish-figure, though I'm not one to talk. She didn't appear too busy even though she was typing away on some old relic – I assume her computer can't run anything past Windows 98.

"Are you busy?" I asked, could never be too sure.
"Yeah- Oh, hello! Sorry about that, do you have a reservation with us?" Her sluggish demeaner instantly shifted as she spat out her cigarette and threw on a smile.
"I should be booked under Waterhouse. Angel Waterhouse?"
It wasn't hard to tell that she began to close multiple tabs. Judging by the pile of magazines on the desk, I'm guessing she was online shopping.
She stumbled a bit, then glanced at me and made a disgusted face.
"Seven nights?" She must've thought I was crazy.
"Yep."
"Alright, you're in room 07, huh..." She chuckled a little, quite ironic. She shifted through a drawer.
"...Here are your keys, but-"
"What do you mean he's coming to visit? How the fuck do you expect me to explain this to Bianca? Hello? Hello? Oh, you fucker don't you hang up on me!" A man yelling on the phone suddenly burst through a door on the side.