The Hidden RoomThe hum of the old elevator echoed off the stone walls as Ethan and Natalie descended into the hotel’s lower basement level—a section officially off-limits, used decades ago for long-forgotten storage and boiler access. The elevator jerked to a stop with a groan and hissed open.Natalie stepped out first, flashlight in hand. “Creepy down here.”Ethan followed, his own light casting long shadows across the cement floor. “Creepy usually means forgotten. Forgotten usually means hidden.”They followed the narrow corridor past rusted pipes and crumbling walls. The air was thick with dust and moisture, the scent of mold lingering with every breath.Natalie paused. “Hold up.”Ethan turned. She was shining her light across the right-hand wall where a strange, rectangular outline broke the pattern of the stonework.“Looks like a doorway,” she whispered.Ethan knelt to inspect it, running his fingers along the edge. “It’s sealed. But there’s airflow—see here?” He pointed to the f

The Woman in RedThe store was nothing more than a dusty old convenience mart with flickering lights and outdated snacks in cracked plastic displays, sitting half-forgotten at the edge of the forest road just opposite the entrance to the Blackwood Grand. It was the kind of place locals visited out of habit and tourists passed without noticing.Ethan parked his car beside the store, the tires crunching against gravel. He and Natalie exited, stepping into the cool morning mist.“Are you sure they have cameras that cover the hotel?” Natalie asked.Ethan nodded. “According to the hotel’s security logs, this is one of the only places that still records 24/7. No digital sync. All analog. And no one bothered to wipe the footage.”Inside, the store smelled of coffee and old paper. A man in his late sixties sat behind the counter, glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he flipped through a fishing magazine. He glanced up.“Help you?”Ethan approached with his ID. “My name’s Ethan Carter. I

The Locked CabinetThe rain returned with a vengeance that evening, hammering against the Blackwood Grand’s stained-glass windows and whispering secrets through the halls. Natalie Reed made her way down a quiet corridor near the staff quarters, flashlight in hand. She had been retracing the steps of an old floor plan Ethan had uncovered earlier that week. Something about this wing—the oldest part of the hotel—had always unsettled her.She passed the breakroom, the unused laundry chute, and finally came to an alcove with a dusty wooden cabinet wedged between two ancient supply lockers. It was partially hidden behind a threadbare curtain. She stepped closer.The cabinet door was locked with a rusted padlock. Natalie frowned."That’s odd," she muttered, pulling gently at the handle. The cabinet didn’t budge.She tapped her comm. “Ethan, you there?”His voice crackled through the earpiece. “What is it?”“I found something. A locked cabinet in the east staff corridor. Looks like it hasn’t

The Basement TunnelsThe storm lashed against the windows of the Blackwood Grand as thunder cracked overhead. Deep in the belly of the hotel, Ethan Carter stood before a narrow service door he had never noticed before. Natalie Reed stood beside him, clutching a flashlight."You sure this is it?" she asked, her voice echoing faintly down the narrow corridor.Ethan nodded, pulling out a faded blueprint he had found among the unfiled incident reports. "According to this, the hotel was built over an old series of tunnels used during Prohibition—this should lead us there."The door creaked open with a groan. The musty smell of mildew and old stone greeted them as they descended narrow stone steps into the shadows below. Their flashlights flickered, cutting through decades of dust and cobwebs.The tunnel ceiling was low, reinforced with timber beams. Water dripped in the distance, and the occasional scurry of unseen creatures reminded them how long it had been since anyone had come this way

The Editor’s DilemmaThe rhythmic hum of fluorescent lights overhead was the only sound in the editorial office of The Sentinel as midnight approached. Rows of desks stood empty, except for one corner, where a lone lamp illuminated a fortress of coffee mugs, newspaper clippings, and a glowing laptop.Ethan Carter stood beside his editor, Rachel Navarro, watching a cascade of error messages flood her screen."They're trying to force us offline," Rachel said, voice low and taut. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, closing windows, opening diagnostics. "It started right after I ignored the city attorney’s ‘courtesy call.’""What did they say?" Ethan asked.Rachel turned to face him. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair tied up in a bun that had surrendered hours ago."‘This story is dangerous. Inflammatory. Consider the consequences of spreading unverified accusations,’" she mimicked, bitterness coating every syllable. "They tried to dress it up as concern."Ethan paced. "They’re scared. T