It was a cold, misty night when Daniel's car broke down on an empty highway. His phone had no signal, and the only building nearby was a decaying motel with a flickering neon sign: Hollow Pines Inn. With no other option, he stepped inside.
The lobby smelled of mildew and something metallic. An old man at the front desk greeted him with a hollow stare. "Room 306," the man muttered, sliding Daniel a key with shaking hands.
As Daniel walked down the dimly lit hallway, he noticed the wallpaper peeling away, revealing dark stains underneath. The air grew heavier with each step. Inside his room, the bed was neatly made, but the mirror above the dresser had strange, faint handprints—small, as if from a child.
At midnight, a whisper woke him. "Help me..." The voice was faint, like a breath in the wind. He turned on the lamp. No one was there. The bathroom door creaked open by itself.
Daniel's pulse quickened. He grabbed his phone—still no signal. The room felt colder. The whisper came again, clearer now. "He's watching..."
Suddenly, the closet door burst open. Inside stood a young girl, no older than ten, her eyes hollow and black. Her mouth opened, but the voice that came out was not hers—it was deep, guttural. "Run."
The lights flickered violently. The air felt suffocating. Daniel bolted for the door, but it wouldn't budge. The old man’s voice suddenly came from the hallway, chanting in a language he didn't understand. The walls began to breathe. Shadows twisted and stretched toward him.
Then, silence.
The door swung open, revealing the old man. His face was expressionless. "You shouldn’t have come here." He whispered.
Daniel sprinted outside, gasping for breath. His car was gone. His phone was gone. Even the road he had driven on—gone.
Behind him, the Hollow Pines Inn was no longer a crumbling motel. It was a towering black structure, windows glowing like eyes. And as Daniel turned to run into the fog, the whisper followed him.
