The Girl in Room 324

The Girl in Room 324

Victoria Enamegbai · Ongoing · 47.0k Words

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Introduction

Cleo Ainsley, failed author, abandoned by her family, her editor and filled with shake checks into an eerie hotel with the hopes of making a come back in her career.

However, things are never as they seem in Hotel La Rue. Room 324 is not a room that exists.

Her manuscript comes to life but is Cleo really writing fiction or is she writing something she had witnessed?

Cleo realizes she’s no longer in control. Her laptop types without her. Mysterious guests vanish without a trace. And room 324? It’s not a room. It’s a trap.

As her sanity slips, Cleo begins to uncover a terrifying pattern: every writer who stayed in Room 324 has vanished, including Morgan Melroy, a woman whose manuscript matches Cleo’s word for word.

Detective Fournier enters into the scene haunted by the Morgan case and notices a similar pattern in Cleo.

Does Cleo know more?

Is Morgan really dead?

What is the mystery behind room 324?

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Hotel La Rue

The website didn’t give much information but Cleo knew that it was just the pace she needed.

Quiet and in the middle of nowhere.

She believed that it was in this hotel that she would write her hit novel.

Cleo Ainsley…..

Failed author, neck deep in debt and abandoned by all who she thought loved.

This was her last shot at redemption. After all success was the best revenge.

The sky was grey just like her life had been for the past six months.

“Choose your room wisely madam. I have heard rumors about this place.”

The cab pulled away before she even had a chance to question the driver about what he had said.

All through the trip, he had been given her weird glances that made her feel uncomfortable.

Perhaps he too knew she was desperate enough to plagiarize someone else’s work.

Perhaps he had read the headlines and recognized her.

Cleo then remembered that checking into Hotel La Rue was not only to write a come back novel but it was also a cry for help.

The building looked old and a little musty but what could one expect from a hotel that was at the edge of a low populated town in Southern France.

There was no other building for miles to come.

It wasn’t a place you would like to take pictures in or visit. It was a place to hide.m

It wasn’t a place one would come to find a failed author.

It was quiet and quiet was what Cleo needed.

She rolled up her small luggage down the rough gravel path, tucking her brown hair behind her ears.

Her legs felt heavy in her knee high boots as she walked up the stairs, pushing the huge doors open.

“Hi, I made a reservation. The website said my room was 318?”

Cleo asked the receptionist with a polite smile but the lady didn’t smile back.

Her eyes were heavy and her eyes seemed to stare into space.

Her hair was haggard and her dress rumpled like she had been wearing it for days without end.

Without a word, the receptionist dropped a key in front of Cleo.

“Room 324. Top floor, corner.”

Cleo stared at her in shock, blinking in confusion.

Yes, she had not expected the best of service but she did not expect to be treated so rudely.

“I didn’t request this room. The website said-“

“It is the room we have prepared for you.” The receptionist coldly said cutting her off harshly.

A pause

Silence

“Is it quiet?”

Cleo asked with a sigh. Grabbing attention to herself here was the last thing that she wanted, not with a court hearing looming.

“It is very quiet.” The receptionist responded but this time with an eerie smile.

Right.

Quiet.

That was she wanted.

There were no chauffeurs or helpers. The elevator creaked and wheezed all the way to the third floor of the hotel.

It was hot and it didn’t seem like there was any conditioning.

Hopefully that would allow for Cleo to get some sort of inspiration for her book.

Room 324

Truly, it was at the corner of the dark hallway. It was the only door that was red.

A coincidence?

The hallway was quiet with the tires of her luggage the only thing abusing the silence.

“Excuse me miss? Are you going into that room? Mother said no one wasn’t allowed near that room.”

….A little blonde girl holding onto a torn teddy bear. She had the same eyes as the receptionist.

Her hair was unkept and her dress dirty.

Cleo shook her head and hurried along. This place was already strange as it is and children are always known to speak strange things.

She must have been out playing all day while her mother was busy and got herself all dirty. Cleo had thought not willing to give much thought to the matter.

She was here to write and then leave.

The key slid in smoothly and the door opened with a loud creak.

The room was simple, gloomy but neat.

It smelled of damp clothes, a hint of cigarettes and something…..something wet?

The room was tidy with a queen size bed in the middle, a desk, a huge cracked window with frill curtains and a chair in the corner.

There was a mirror beside a huge cupboard and Cleo made a mental note to turn it around when she was done unpacking. There was a restroom and a shower as well.

She would have no problem being comfortable.

The only thing was that smell…..that wet smell.

She threw her luggage on the bed, unpacking in silence stopping herself from looking into the mirror.

Cleo hadn’t been able to look at herself lately. Not after her editors abandoned her, not after the plagiarism, not after the reviews, not since her family stopped answering their calls.

WRITE TILL YOU BLEED.

Cleo intended to.

It was a bold red sticker that she had bought before escaping to  Hotel La Rue.

She had glued it to her laptop as some sort of inspiration during these weeks.

She walked over to the desk and dropped her laptop there.

First thing tomorrow, she was going to do like the sticker said.

This was the only shot she had left to redeem herself. Cleo was not going to waste it.

After Cleo unpacked, Cleo hopped into the shower.

Thankfully, the bathroom was clean as well but the shower was narrow.

Icy cold water streamed down her body as she scrubbed hard.

The flickering lights made it hard to see and Cleo hurried out not wanting to catch a cold in the middle of nowhere, not when she had just arrived.

“This time will be different. I will make something of myself this time.” She thought to herself as she laid down to sleep.

Cleo had no way of knowing that there were already eyes in her, watching her every move.

She should have questioned the cab driver.

She should have questioned the little girl in the hall.

For she had now become The Girl in Room 324.

IT had been waiting.

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