Night had fallen over the Blackwood Grand Hotel. The lobby, once bustling with life, now sat empty, its dim chandeliers casting eerie shadows across the marble floor. James Carter, the night security guard, adjusted his uniform and took a sip of his now-lukewarm coffee. Another uneventful shift—or so he thought.
At precisely 2:13 AM, the elevator bell chimed. James frowned. No one should be using the elevator at this hour. He glanced at the security monitors, but the screen showed nothing unusual. Curious, he made his way to the elevator and watched as the doors slid open.
Inside, the panel displayed something impossible: **13**.
James hesitated. The hotel only had twelve floors. Yet, the button for the mysterious 13th floor glowed softly, as if beckoning him. He reached out and pressed it. The doors shut, and the elevator began its ascent, moving slower than usual, as if climbing into another realm.
When the doors slid open, James stepped into a dimly lit hallway coated in dust. The wallpaper was peeling, and the air smelled of mildew and something faintly metallic. The flickering lights barely illuminated the corridor lined with doors—each marked with an old brass number. The numbers weren’t sequential, and some doors had deep scratches across their surfaces.
A whisper drifted through the hall. James spun around, his flashlight trembling slightly in his grip. "Hello?" he called out. No answer.
A chill ran down his spine as he moved forward. The sound of distant, shuffling footsteps echoed through the corridor. As he approached one of the doors, he noticed a nameplate—**Carter, James**.
His breath hitched. That was his name. The door creaked open on its own, revealing a room identical to his apartment. The same couch, the same pictures on the wall—except the pictures had changed. In each one, he wasn’t alone. A shadowy figure stood behind him, watching.
James stumbled backward, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Suddenly, a low growl emanated from the darkness. The lights flickered violently, and the hallway seemed to stretch infinitely in both directions. The elevator was gone. There was no way back.
The whispers returned, now growing into a deafening chorus of voices repeating his name. James turned to run, but the floor beneath him gave way, and he plunged into darkness.
The next morning, the Blackwood Grand Hotel remained unchanged. Guests came and went, unaware that the elevator had gone up at 2:13 AM. The security room had a new guard—one who never questioned why his predecessor had vanished without a trace.
And deep within the shadows of the 13th floor, James Carter’s whispers joined the others, forever trapped in a place that shouldn’t exist.t