CHAPTER X

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Romana Ruell was en route to her hotel in a taxi, anticipating a reunion with her friend Charlotte in Los Angeles. Unfamiliar with the hotel, she couldn't fathom that this decision might become her gravest error. After a 20-minute journey, she arrived to see 'THE CECIL HOTEL' emblazoned on the edifice, its appearance chillingly decrepit, belying its four-star claim. Her confidence in a secure stay rapidly evaporated. The sight of the musty 19-story building made her recoil. 

The hotel had omitted to inform her of her room number. With determined strides, the brunette approached the reception for her key. The receptionist, Elijah, with his striking blue eyes and blond hair, greeted her warmly. "How may I help you, ma'am?" At least the staff seemed friendly. "I've booked a room for four days under the name Romana Ruell," she announced. "You made the reservation yesterday, correct, Ms. Ruell?" he inquired, to which she whispered an affirmative. Elijah retrieved the key from a wall cabinet and informed her a waitress would assist her. Upon entering her room, disappointment struck. The unadorned interiors, the walls' dull hue, and the modest furnishings—a single bed, a night lamp, a phone, and a small window stretching from the ceiling to the adjacent wall—rendered the room more akin to a haunted house than a hotel.


 Suddenly, a scream pierced the air, followed by a woman's voice, though Romana could only catch snippets of the disturbance. She stepped out of her room, driven by curiosity and concern.  As she paused for a few seconds, the continuous tinging from the elevator caught her attention. Approaching the elevator, she saw a young woman smiling vacantly, pacing back and forth inside. Romana's stomach growled, reminding her of the pizza shop she had seen at the street's end during her taxi ride. However, sharing an elevator with this odd stranger was out of the question. The woman seemed oblivious to Romana, chatting with an unseen companion.

 Opting for the stairs, Romana headed to the pizza shop on foot. Post-dinner, as the sun set and the moon cast its glow on Los Angeles' streets, fatigue set in. She had assumed the pizza shop was close to her hotel and decided to walk, but her estimate was off, and she lacked the funds for a taxi. Back in her room, she collapsed onto the bed, too tired to change into pyjamas or shower, and quickly succumbed to sleep. Awakened by bright light and chatter outside her door, she rose and opened it, only to be met by a crowd of guests. They whispered among themselves as men descended from the 14th floor with a white sheet. Curious, Romana peered over the crowd and was shocked to see the body of the woman from the elevator. "Poor girl," she thought. Later, the police announced a murder investigation, requiring all guests to remain in their rooms for about five days, possibly longer than their intended stays.

The following night, she remained in her hotel room all day. Having met Charlotte the previous day, and with nothing else to do, she turned on the TV to watch reality shows, which were entertaining enough. Her viewing was interrupted by a knock at the door. Forgetting to check who it was, she opened the door and immediately felt a sharp pain in her head, her hands instinctively going to the source of the pain, feeling something wet and warm. It was her blood. Before she could process the situation, she was swept into a pair of arms and felt herself being moved. The person carrying her began to run, then hurled her out of the window. She screamed with all her might, noticing other guests witnessing her fall from the 13th floor, their eyes wide with horror. In just milliseconds, she hit the cold pavement, too weak to feel anything. At that moment, she wished she had stayed home with her family, wasting her holiday, rather than coming to this deadly hotel.

THE END

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