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There's this hotel I live by named Red Roof Inn. and it's a really nice place to stay in Wilmington, my hometown. People stay there on vacation, business trips, etc. Some rooms have flat screen televisions (lucky me!) and all of them have really nice beds. They're so soft I don't even need my computer's Serenade playlist. The lady at the front desk is really nice as well. Now enough about that, I'll get straight to the point.
At night I usually take walks around the hotel to work some pounds off this god-awful gut I have. One night while taking a walk, I happened to pass by room 133, and I noticed something about it. The door was locked and had a "do not disturb" door-hanger on it, the curtains were closed tight and the window had the words "KEEP OUT!" on it...written in blood. And I don't mean like the fake blood halloween window clings you find at the dollar store. I mean blood, from a human body. There were so many questions about this room that I had, and no answers. I thought for a minute and then realized something.
Someone died in this hotel.
I was surprised that no one had known about this, either that or they knew, but didn't acknowledge it. It was so quiet outside at night, it was REALLY late so no one was on the road, and I am dead serious, I kid you not when I say that I heard the most disturbing thing while standing near the doorway; it sounded like someone had called my name and spoke to me from inside the room; "Get away from here! Go! Now!"
I was scared inside-out as I hauled lead ass away from that room as fast as I could, I swear it didn't even feel like I was running, more like I was flying. I ran to the front desk and stopped to catch my breath.
"Exc-use me, is anyone there?"
"Yes? Can I help you?"
"There's something up with one of your rooms, 133."
"What about it?"
"I think it's haunted. The door has 'do not disturb' on the knob, the curtains are shut and there's writing on the window that says 'keep out' written in blood."
The woman didn't say anything, but instead gave me a wide eyed look, as if I had said something inappropriate. She walked into the back room, didn't come back out. I shrugged it off...hoping it was nothing...
I walked back outside and out of sheer bravery went back to 133. This time however, the door was open. I heard the voice again; "Come inside..." I walked inside and the first thing I see is a painting of a young-looking man, possibly in his 20's or so. His eyes stared right at me, and I don't mean that's the way they were painted; everywhere I went those eyes followed me. Then slowly, the young man in the painting began to smile, wider and wider, and as he began to smirk an evil, mischeivous look on his face became noticeable. The voice then spoke, lip-syncing with the painting.
"A visitor, after so many years...I've waited so long to speak to someone, my lonely throat is so dry and cracked from no speech, my heart is grey from being alone...and now I have my chance." I don't know what he was talking about but as soon as he stopped talking, the whole room turned COLD AS ICE. I had to rub my hands together, it was so cold. The painting's head slowly turned to the left, and his eyes turned red. "Now I can fulfill the promise I made, a hundred and thirty-three years ago..." The lamp on the room's wall flickered on and off so fast I couldn't see anything, and the door opened again.
I ran out of the room and back to my apartment. Everyone was still out running errands so it was just me. I...I don't know what to think. I'm still shaking thinking about it. If you live in Wilmington and visit the Red Roof Inn for ANY reason, don't ever go to Room 133. That "promise" wasn't just some metaphor, I just realized this fucker has killed somebody, and he won't hesitate to do the same to you. Whatever you do, whatever business you have at Red Roof Inn, I repeat, do not ever go to Room 133.