The Murder Hotel
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"Then, he heard his door slowly being pushed open, and his blood ran cold. He began to sweat nervously and crawled under the covers and closed his eyes..."
This is a story I wrote for my Language Arts class. Hope you enjoy!
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I woke up in a room I didn't recognize, my fingers tracing the rough fabric of a bedspread that wasn't mine. The air was thick with something unfamiliar, and every small difference in the space set off alarm bells in my head. My heart raced as I scrambled for the door-locked. Panic clawed at my chest. Then he appeared in the doorway, his smile crooked, his eyes dark with intent. He spoke no words, but his presence alone screamed danger. Every exit was sealed. Every attempt to call for help met with eerie dismissals from voices that seemed in on the nightmare. And as he handed me a letter-a love note scrawled in childish handwriting-I realized this wasn't just a kidnapping. It was something far worse. I don't know who he is. I don't know what he wants. But I do know one thing: I need to escape before it's too late.
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