Riya hated hotels.
Especially old ones.
But when her cab broke down in the middle of nowhere during a storm, she had no choice.
The only building within miles was a dimly lit, three-story hotel with a flickering neon sign:
"Midnight Stay."
Rain poured like the sky was breaking apart.
She ran inside.
The lobby was silent.
Too silent.
An old receptionist sat behind the desk, staring at nothing.
No computer.
No phone ringing.
No other guests.
"Do you have a room?" Riya asked, shivering.
The man slowly looked at her.
"You'll take Room 309."
It wasn't a question.
It was a statement.
Room 309 was at the end of the hallway.
The corridor lights blinked as she walked.
Her footsteps echoed louder than they should have.
When she entered, the room looked normal.
Too normal.
Bed. Mirror. Window. Bathroom.
She locked the door.
Checked under the bed.
Nothing.
She told herself she was overthinking.
At 1:13 AM—
Knock.
Three slow knocks.
Her heart stopped.
She looked through the peephole.
No one.
She opened the door slightly.
Empty hallway.
When she turned back inside—
The bathroom light was ON.
She was sure she had turned it off.
She grabbed her phone.
No signal.
Of course.
Then she noticed something strange.
The mirror.
There was writing on it.
Foggy letters forming slowly—
"DON'T SLEEP."
Her breath froze.
She hadn't showered. There was no steam.
So how was the mirror fogged?
Suddenly—
Knock.
This time from INSIDE the closet.
Riya stepped back.
Her hands shaking.
The closet door trembled slightly.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
She forced herself forward and pulled it open.
Empty.
But at the back wall…
Another door.
A small hidden door.
Barely visible.
And it was slightly open.
She should have run.
She knows that now.
But curiosity is a dangerous thing.
She pushed it open.
It led to a narrow staircase going down.
Cold air rushed up.
And she heard something.
Breathing.
Heavy breathing.
She turned on her phone flashlight and slowly walked down.
At the bottom—
A room.
Filled with monitors.
Every screen showed…
Room 309.
From different angles.
Live.
The bed.
The mirror.
The door.
Even inside the bathroom.
Someone had been watching her the entire time.
Then she saw something worse.
On one screen—
She was sleeping.
But she wasn't asleep.
She was standing right there.
She looked at the timestamp.
Tomorrow's date.
The screen showed her lying on the bed.
Motionless.
The time on screen:
1:13 AM.
The same time the knocks started.
Behind her—
A shadow moved.
She felt breath on her neck.
A whisper.
"You weren't supposed to find this."
She spun around—
No one.
But the monitors flickered.
Now all screens showed only one thing:
Her.
Standing in that basement.
From behind.
Which meant—
Someone was behind her.
Right now.
The lights went out.
Complete darkness.
Footsteps rushed toward her.
She ran.
Up the stairs.
Through the hidden door.
Into Room 309.
But the hallway outside was gone.
The door no longer led to a corridor.
Only a wall.
The room had changed.
The mirror now read:
"You should have slept."
The knocking returned.
1:13 AM.
Three slow knocks.
This time—
From under the bed.
She slowly looked down.
And saw her own eyes staring back at her.
Smiling.
The next morning—
The storm was gone.
Police stood outside the hotel.
The building looked abandoned.
Rotten.
Broken windows.
Dust everywhere.
There was no receptionist.
No electricity.
No sign of recent activity.
But in Room 309—
They found one thing.
A phone.
On the screen—
A live camera feed.
Showing the empty room.
And behind the officer standing there—
A shadow.
Watching.
Some rooms don't trap your body.Some rooms don't trap your body.
They trap your timeline.