The clerk swore room 9 was empty — still, a key was missing. When he peeked in, the air felt damp, humming like a throat. The bed was still ...

The clerk swore room 9 was empty — still, a key was missing. When he peeked in, the air felt damp, humming like a throat. The bed was still warm, and a note lay on the pillow: “Thanks for the stay.” He looked down — the carpet moved, like something breathing beneath it. When he shut the door, the number ...

horror Gustave Doré Greg Rutkowski