Tell me, what is it you fear?

A hand under the bed?

A corpse sewn into the mattress, maybe?

What about waking up in the middle of the night, a figure standing at the foot of the bed, head cocked to one side, eyes glowing white and burning their ghastly intent into you?

That is what this place is- a breeding ground for fear.

All that terrifies you will manifest whilst your sleeping mind conjures it up from the dark depths.

They did the rituals on the site of this place. Evil, blood sacrifices right into the foundations. They wanted this place to be a doorway.

They misunderstood why.

Do       Not      Sleep. 

-Hidden in the bible

There are many doors in this place. 

The man with the many faces wants mine. 

He wants to wear me outside. 

He can’t leave this place and now neither can I. 

He has pets that wait until you are asleep. 

So they can slip into you whilst you dream. 

 

This morning, I woke up outside. 

I don’t know how I got there or what is happening. 

I dream of lopsided night skies, that are green, and slick with blood. 

 

I’m back in the room again. 

The man is coming. 

I think he sees me. 

-Hidden in the bible.

 

You can feel her, right?

She wants to come through.

She wants to leave this room.

You can hear her when the borders between this world and her’s weaken.

Sometimes it’ll be a laugh- a chuckle in the dead of night.

Knocking on the walls just as you are falling to sleep.

White eyes glowering at you in the dark from the corner of the room.

I’ve made it so she can’t leave.

I knew her when she was only madness and hatred, but she’s so much worse now.

Don’t leave personal objects around- phones, jewellery, photos- anything she can use to escape.

Surround them with a ring of salt.

 

Don’t let her into them.  

 

-Hidden on top of the wardrobe.

There is something wrong in the bones of this place.

The meat of the plaster is wretched with flies.

I am fragmented.

There are two versions of me that exist here.

I wake at night when the pity man comes.

He shakes his little tin box filled with teeth.

The nurses say he is harmless, but I see his children.

They boil the air.

Their shapes flicker across the walls, like ghost birds.

In my other me, this place is just a hotel.

Somewhere mundane, safe.

I pray that this a dream.

I pray that this note will be gone in the morning.

-Hidden in the bible.

I can’t leave. 

Do not stay here. 

There’s blood in the foundations of this place. 

There is a ritual to keep them in their rooms. 

Their cages. 

Don’t call out to them. 

The Witch in the first room covets the warmth of the living. 

The Child in the second room covets the life of those who have lived. 

The King is always hungry. 

Red eyes in the dark. 

A night full of teeth. 

Do not stay here. 

-Written on tissue paper and hidden in a cupboard.

I was woken up in the middle of the night by an old lady.

She had a kindly face.

She stood at the end of my bed, smiling sweetly.

Her hair moved slowly around her head, like coloured ink in water.

She was so pale, and looked shocked.

She said she always tries to speak to the people who stay here, and it makes her angry when they don’t listen.

 

She told me her husband had never listened to her, until she threw herself into the sea.

Then she would come to him every night and just talk, and talk, and talk, until he shot himself.  

 

She told me that the people who wouldn’t listen made her angry.

Their bones are hidden in the crawl space in the corner of the room.

-Hidden behind the mirror

The altar appears in the form of a small bed in the corner of the room.

This means that the room is ready for The Sacrifice.

The Sacrifice must lie naked in the bed. No-one else, only The Sacrifice. 

The Sacrifice will fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Do not leave the room whilst the altar is visible.

If you do not place The Sacrifice upon the altar, you will awaken The Master.

This MUST NOT happen.

Call me using the mirror in the bathroom if require assistance.

You know the ritual.

-Hidden in the bible.

 

Don’t ask reception about the ghost of room 26.

They won’t talk about it.

Ask for a bible.

Don’t look in the mirror.

Watch the painting- she will move.

Don’t sleep with the lights off.

Actually, you shouldn’t have even read this.

Throw it away.

Burn it.

 

– Hidden in the bible.

First rule:

Don’t leave the room.

Second rule:

Don’t answer the telephone.

Third rule:

Don’t sleep.

If you sleep, the lady and her children come.

They stand around your bed and lay their coal coloured hands on you.

Fourth rule:

Don’t let them touch you

Help me, God please.

-Hidden in the bible

 

This room is not a room.

It’s a trap. A cage.

                                 The woman at reception told me I was in room 140.

There were so many corridors to navigate, until I finally found it.

This room.

                                                                                                You can’t leave.

You can hear the footfalls of the man cloaked in smoke.

                                        Walking the halls.

He carries a hammer.

                                                                         His women have razor teeth.

If you try to leave he will see.

Look the doors.

                                                                         Don’t switch on the TV.

Pray.

                                                                         140 doesn’t exist.

It’s a cage.

 

An innocuous hell.

-Hidden in the bible