The hotel doors stood open.
Warm yellow light spilled quietly out from within, laying a long, narrow strip of glow across the wet ground.
Eve stood outside the doorway. She did not step in right away.
The street behind her was gone.
Thick fog had swallowed the way she'd come. The streetlamps, the office towers, the corner she'd turned just minutes ago — all of it had vanished without a trace.
As if the city had never existed at all.
Only the hotel in front of her still glowed.
A wind chime above the door stirred gently in the breeze.
Ting—
Eve instinctively tightened her grip on the strap of her bag.
She pulled out her phone, hoping to check where exactly she was — but the screen stayed dark.
The battery had already died.
She pressed the power button a few times, but nothing happened. In the end, she had no choice but to slip it back into her bag.
Every rational instinct told her something about this place was wrong.
An old hotel she'd never seen before.
A street that had simply disappeared.
She glanced back over her shoulder.
Nothing was there. Only fog.
It was so quiet she couldn't even hear the rain anymore.
Eve stood there in silence for a few seconds.
At least — compared to standing out here, waiting for whatever might emerge from the fog —
maybe spending the night in the hotel wasn't such a bad idea.
She took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold.
The old wooden floor creaked softly beneath her foot.
Creak.
In the unnatural stillness of the lobby, the sound rang out with startling clarity.
The door slowly swung shut behind her.
Bang.
Eve spun around; the door had already closed.
She grabbed the handle and tried to turn it.
It wouldn't budge.
Her stomach dropped.
Slowly, Eve turned back around.
"...Hello? Anyone here?"
No answer.
The hotel looked even older inside than it had from the street.
The dark wooden floorboards had been worn smooth with age. Several faded landscape paintings hung along the walls.
Behind the front desk, rows of brass room keys hung neatly in place, each engraved with a different room number.
And yet, old as everything here was, it didn't feel abandoned.
It felt like someone had been maintaining this place all along.
Except—
there wasn't a single person in sight.
Eve's gaze slowly swept across the lobby.
Then it stopped on the old clock hanging on the wall.
She froze.
The hour hand pointed to two.
The minute hand pointed to twelve.
Two o'clock in the morning.
The second hand did not move.
Eve looked down at her watch.
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02:17.
She frowned.
Was the clock broken?
At that exact moment—
a small lamp behind the counter clicked on with a soft snap.
Dim, warm light spilled down.
On the desk beneath it, where nothing had been a moment ago, sat a thick, black guest register.
Beside it lay a brass key.
Eve didn't move.
She was certain—
there had been nothing there before.
The key gleamed faintly under the lamplight.
Three numbers were engraved on it.
[101]
Eve slowly approached the front desk.
"Hello?"
Still no answer.
Just as she reached out to touch the key—
Rustle.
The register flipped open on its own.
Eve's hand froze in midair.
The pages turned, one after another, faster and faster.
Rustle, rustle, rustle—
Then, finally, they stopped on a single page.
On the blank paper, a line of ink-black handwriting slowly began to bleed through, as though an invisible pen were writing it in real time.
[Guest: Eve Lam]
Eve's breath caught.
She stared at her own name.
Another line appeared beneath it.
[Verifying identity...]
[Verification complete.]
After a brief pause, one final line slowly appeared.
[Welcome, new manager.]
Eve's eyes widened.
"...What?"
The moment the word left her mouth—
Riiing—!
A shrill telephone bell shattered the silence.
Eve flinched.
In the corner of the counter, an old black rotary phone was ringing violently, practically shaking.
Riiiing—
Riiiing—
She stared at it.
For reasons she couldn't explain, a single thought surfaced in her mind with startling clarity.
Don't answer it.
But the phone kept ringing.
Each ring more urgent than the last.
Like a demand.
Or a warning.
Eve glanced at the tightly shut entrance.
Then at the corridor stretching endlessly into the darkness.
She gritted her teeth.
Finally, she reached out and picked up the receiver.
"...Hello?"
No one answered.
There was only the faint crackle of static.
Bzzzt—
Bzzzt—
A few seconds passed.
Then a low, hoarse voice spoke from the other end.
Cold and emotionless.
"Remember this."
Eve's grip tightened around the receiver.
"The following are the first-night rules for the new manager."
Her heart inexplicably skipped a beat.
The voice continued without waiting for her to respond.
"Rule one."
"After two in the morning, leaving the hotel is forbidden."
Eve's eyes flicked instinctively toward the door behind her.
"Rule two."
"Do not open the hotel's front door until a guest's identity has been confirmed."
"Rule three."
The voice paused.
"If someone calls your name tonight—"
"Do not answer."
Eve's fingers curled tighter around the receiver.
The line went quiet again.
A few seconds later, the voice spoke again.
"Wait for dawn."
"And—"
The static suddenly turned sharp, grating.
"Survive the night."
Eve stood with the receiver pressed to her ear, unable to speak for several seconds.
"...Who are you?"
Silence.
She waited.
No answer came.
She was just about to ask again when—
a soft laugh drifted through the line.
Low.
Like someone who hadn't spoken in a very long time.
"Who I am doesn't matter."
"What matters is—"
the voice said slowly,
"From this moment on."
"You are the new manager of the Long Night Hotel."
Click.
The line went dead.
Eve stood frozen where she was.