Nightmare Gallery: A Treasury of Twisted Terror Tales

The Thirteenth Floor

In the heart of a bustling city stood the old Hartwell Hotel, an imposing structure that had long seen better days. Once a luxurious retreat for the elite, it had become a shadow of its former self, the gilded details of its architecture tarnished and faded. Rumors swirled around the building, whispers of hauntings and strange occurrences that kept most guests at bay. But for those who dared to check in, the hotel had one rule: never, under any circumstances, take the elevator to the thirteenth floor.

Lily Mercer was new to the city, a fresh graduate looking for a place to start her career. When she booked a room at the Hartwell, she was unaware of its sordid reputation. She arrived with the naive excitement of youth, oblivious to the glances exchanged by the receptionist and the other staff when they saw her.

"Welcome to the Hartwell," the receptionist said, her voice devoid of warmth. "Enjoy your stay. Room 912."

Lily accepted her key with a smile and took the creaky elevator up to the ninth floor. The ride was jolting, the old machine shuddering as it ascended. When the doors opened, she stepped into the dimly lit hallway, where the flickering overhead lights cast eerie shadows that danced across the faded wallpaper.

After unpacking her belongings, she decided to explore the hotel. The air was thick with dust and memories, the echo of distant laughter lingering like a ghost. As she wandered through the halls, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. The walls seemed to close in, and the silence was punctuated by the occasional creak of wood or the distant thud of a door.

Eventually, she found herself standing before a brass door marked "Staff Only." Curiosity piqued, she pushed the door open slightly, peeking inside. The room beyond was cluttered with old furniture and discarded items, the scent of mildew heavy in the air. In the corner stood an old service elevator, its doors ajar, and a single, flickering bulb hanging above it.

As she stepped inside, a chill ran down her spine. She pressed the button for the thirteenth floor, half-expecting the doors to slam shut. To her surprise, the elevator lurched to life, creaking and groaning as it ascended.

The elevator doors opened with a reluctant sigh, revealing a dimly lit corridor lined with old, heavy doors. The air was thick and stale, tinged with the faint scent of decay. Heart pounding with a mix of fear and thrill, Lily stepped out into the eerie silence.

The thirteenth floor felt abandoned. Dust covered every surface, and cobwebs hung like veils from the ceiling. She approached the first door, curiosity getting the better of her. The number "1301" was barely legible, worn away by time. With a trembling hand, she turned the handle and pushed the door open.

Inside, the room was untouched, as if frozen in time. The bed was perfectly made, the curtains drawn tight, and an old suitcase lay open on the floor, filled with clothes that hadn't seen daylight in years. As she stepped further in, a sense of dread washed over her. She felt an inexplicable heaviness in the air, as if the room were a tomb.

Suddenly, she heard a faint whisper, barely audible. "Get out... get out..." It was a chilling warning that sent shivers racing down her spine. Lily spun around, the door she had entered through now seeming impossibly far away.

Panicking, she rushed toward the exit, but as she reached for the doorknob, it wouldn't budge. The door was stuck, as if it were locked from the outside. The whispering grew louder, swirling around her, urging her to leave. "Get out! Get out!"

In a frenzy, she turned back toward the room, desperate for a way to escape. Her eyes darted around, landing on the suitcase. It was then she noticed something glinting among the clothes—a small, ornate locket. It lay on top, shimmering in the dim light.

Without thinking, she snatched it up, feeling a strange warmth radiate from it. The whispers intensified, angry now. "No! Not the locket!"

Instinctively, she shoved the locket into her pocket and threw herself against the door again, pounding her fists in desperation. Suddenly, the door swung open, and she stumbled back into the hallway, gasping for air.

The whispers ceased as she fled down the corridor, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She sprinted toward the elevator, frantically pressing the button for the ground floor. The doors closed just as she heard the distant echo of footsteps behind her, followed by a low, guttural growl.

When the elevator finally lurched to life and descended, she leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath. The feeling of being hunted clung to her like a shadow. She had to get out of the hotel.

As she reached the lobby, the receptionist looked up, surprise flickering in her eyes. "You shouldn't have gone up there," she said, her voice filled with a strange mix of concern and fear. "It's not safe."

Lily took a step back, her heart racing. "What do you mean? What's up there?"

"The thirteenth floor... it's cursed. The spirits of those who went missing linger there, trapped in a loop. They say the locket holds a part of their souls, and if you take it, it binds you to them."

Lily's hand instinctively reached for her pocket, where the locket rested. It felt heavy, as if it were pulsating with energy. "I need to return it!" she cried, fear seeping into her voice.

The receptionist shook her head. "It's too late. You're already marked. You must go back, or they will come for you."

Without a second thought, Lily dashed back to the elevator, her mind racing. She pressed the button for the thirteenth floor, heart pounding as the doors opened once again. This time, the air felt different—thick and suffocating. The whispers had returned, louder and more insistent.

"Find us... help us..."

Trembling, Lily stepped out into the dark corridor, the locket's warmth growing almost unbearable in her pocket. She moved toward the room where she had found it, and the whispers grew stronger, urging her forward.

As she entered the room, the air felt electric. The suitcase lay open, and the shadows danced around her, revealing fleeting glimpses of the children—lost souls trapped in their eternal prison.

"Help us... return what is ours..." they pleaded, their eyes wide with despair.

With a heavy heart, Lily approached the suitcase and carefully removed the locket from her pocket. "I'm here to help you," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. She placed the locket back where she had found it, and the moment it touched the fabric, a brilliant light erupted, filling the room with warmth.

The spirits swirled around her, their forms becoming clearer as the light enveloped them. They were children, innocent and filled with longing. "Thank you!" they cried in unison, their voices harmonizing in a melodic farewell.

As the light expanded, it engulfed Lily, lifting her off the ground. She felt a rush of energy, and in that moment, the weight of fear lifted. The darkness that had clung to the hotel began to dissipate, replaced by a profound sense of peace.

With a final burst of light, the room transformed. The dust vanished, and sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the once-abandoned space. Lily stood amidst the remnants of a forgotten past, filled with hope and love.

She stumbled back to the elevator, tears of relief streaming down her face. As the doors closed behind her, she felt a weight lift from her soul, knowing that she had freed the lost children of the thirteenth floor.

When she emerged back into the lobby, the receptionist smiled knowingly, her eyes shining with gratitude. "You did it. You broke the curse."

Lily nodded, a newfound strength surging through her. The Hartwell Hotel was no longer a place of fear; it had become a sanctuary for those lost souls. And as she stepped out into the bright city streets, she carried with her the promise that the darkness would never again have the power to hold anyone captive.