The last letter from room 309-short horror stories

 

"This short horror story begins in an old hotel hotel where a mysterious letter is found".The Last Letter from Room 309

Arjun had always been curious about old places. When he traveled to the hill town of Devgarh, he chose to stay at the town’s oldest hotel, the Royal Crest, a building that had stood for nearly a hundred years.

The receptionist hesitated when Arjun asked for a room.

“Room 309 is available,” he said quietly, “but most guests prefer other rooms.”

Arjun laughed. “I’ll take it.”

Room 309 was on the top floor at the end of a narrow corridor. The room looked ordinary—an old wooden bed, a desk near the window, and a faded painting of the mountains. But as Arjun unpacked, he noticed a small envelope hidden inside the desk drawer.

On the front was written in shaky handwriting:

“To the person staying here next.”

Curious, Arjun opened it.

If you are reading this, I may already be gone. My name is Raghav Mehta. I have stayed in this room for three nights, and every night at exactly 11:45, someone knocks on the door. When I open it, the corridor is empty. Last night I heard footsteps stop outside my bed. I am leaving tomorrow, but I fear I will not make it out of this hotel.

Arjun smiled uneasily. It sounded like a prank left by a previous guest.

At 11:45 that night, a knock echoed through the room.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Arjun froze.

He opened the door quickly. The corridor was empty, just as the letter had described. A cold breeze moved through the hallway even though all the windows were closed.

He returned to the bed, trying to convince himself it was nothing.

A minute later, he heard footsteps.

Slow. Careful. Coming from inside the room.

The sound stopped beside the desk.

Arjun switched on the lamp. The envelope was no longer on the desk. It lay on the floor near the door, and beneath it was another folded sheet of paper.

With trembling hands, he opened it.

I could not leave. If you have found this second letter, it means the room has chosen you. Do not stay after midnight.

The clock showed 11:59.

Arjun grabbed his bag and rushed into the corridor. As he reached the staircase, he looked back once.

The door of Room 309 was slowly closing by itself.

The next morning, the receptionist found the room empty. On the desk was a single envelope addressed:

“To the person staying here next.”