It was past midnight when Arif started his night shift at the old city hotel. The building was quiet, almost too quiet. Most guests had checked out earlier because of "strange complaints" — whispers in empty halls, footsteps with no one there.
Arif didn't believe in ghosts.
At 2:13 AM, the reception phone rang.
"Hello, front desk," Arif said.
A soft, trembling voice replied,
"Please… come to Room 307… someone is inside my room."
Arif checked the register.
Room 307 was empty.
He frowned. "Sir, I think there's a mistake—"
The line cut off.
For a moment, everything was silent again.
Then… the elevator dinged.
Arif slowly walked toward it. The door opened by itself, even though no one had pressed the button. Inside, the light flickered.
He hesitated… then stepped in.
The elevator moved up.
3rd floor.
The hallway was dark. Only one light at the far end was blinking. Room 307 stood there, slightly open.
Arif swallowed hard.
"Hello?" he called.
No answer.
He pushed the door open.
Inside, the room was cold. Unnaturally cold. The curtains were moving, even though the windows were shut.
Then he heard it…
A whisper behind him.
"You came…"
Arif turned around quickly—
No one.
His heart pounded.
Suddenly, the bathroom door creaked open slowly.
He walked toward it, step by step.
Inside… the mirror was covered with something written in red.
"WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?"
Arif stepped back in shock.
Then he noticed something worse—
The mirror didn't show his reflection.
Instead… it showed a pale, broken face standing right behind him.
Before he could react…
A cold hand grabbed his shoulder.
He froze.
The whisper returned, right next to his ear—
"You didn't check out… like the others…"
The lights went out.
The next morning, hotel staff found Room 307 locked from inside.
Arif was gone.
But the phone at the reception kept ringing…
At exactly 2:13 AM.
And if anyone answers…
They hear the same voice:
"Please… come to Room 307… someone is inside my room."