The call ended.
The hotel sank back into dead silence.
Eve stood frozen in place, the only sound left the flat drone of a dial tone leaking from the old receiver.
Beep—
Beep—
Beep—
She lowered the phone slowly.
Her palms were slick with cold sweat.
This whole thing felt as absurd as a dream.
A telephone that talked.
A guest register that turned its own pages.
A hotel she had never seen before.
And now a set of rules that made no sense at all.
Without thinking, she glanced down at her wrist.
The time on her watch read—
02:30.
But the old clock on the wall still stood frozen at two in the morning.
Its second hand hadn't moved an inch.
As if time in this hotel had simply stopped somewhere, and never started again.
Eve's throat felt dry.
She suddenly wanted, more than anything, to leave.
Right now.
Immediately.
Then—
a faint sound came from upstairs.
Tap.
Like something stepping across the old wooden floorboards.
Eve's entire body went rigid.
A second sound followed.
Tap.
Slow.
Like something was moving, unhurried, along the corridor above.
One step.
Then another.
In the silence, the sound made her skin crawl.
Eve stared up at the pitch-black stairwell, her breathing quickening without her permission.
Then—
Creeeak—
A door somewhere upstairs seemed to be easing open.
Eve's mind went blank with panic.
Almost on instinct, she spun around and rushed toward the hotel entrance. She grabbed the handles with both hands and pulled as hard as she could.
The doors didn't move an inch.
As if something had sealed it shut, completely.
And the footsteps upstairs kept coming.
Tap.
Tap.
Closer now.
Eve's breath came in shallow, shaking bursts.
Then—
every sound stopped at once.
The hotel fell back into dead silence.
The next moment.
A lazy voice drawled from somewhere behind her.
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"If I were you—"
Eve froze on the spot.
"—I wouldn't be trying to open that door right now."
Her breath caught. Slowly, she turned around.
A black cat was sitting on the front desk.
Its fur was so dark it nearly melted into the shadows, and only a pair of palm-green eyes gleamed, watching her calmly.
Its tail gave a slow, unhurried swish.
It lowered its head and licked at one paw.
As if it had just wandered back from a casual stroll.
And from the moment the cat appeared, the footsteps upstairs had vanished.
Eve stared at it.
Her thoughts were a mess.
...A talking cat?
No.
Impossible.
Maybe she really was just exhausted. Chronic insomnia, sleepless nights, too much stress — her doctor had warned her that auditory hallucinations and brief episodes of confusion were possible.
She almost started to wonder if she'd actually made it home already, if she was asleep in her own bed right now.
If all of this were just a dream too vivid to tell apart from waking.
But in the next second—
the cat flicked its tail, lazily, as though it could read her mind exactly.
"If you're thinking of pinching yourself awake..."
It lifted its eerie green eyes to meet hers.
"...don't waste your time."
Eve's breath caught.
"...What exactly are you?"
The black cat went silent for two seconds, seemingly offended by the question.
"How rude."
It slowly rose to its feet on the counter, its tail swaying behind it.
"I have a name."
"Udon."
Eve: "..."
The name was so ordinary it clashed completely with everything happening around her.
She forced her voice steady. "What is this place, exactly?"
Udon glanced at her.
"A hotel."
"...I know it's a hotel."
Eve almost gritted her teeth.
"I mean — where is this place?"
Udon leapt down from the counter at its own leisurely pace.
Its paws landed on the wooden floor without a sound.
As it passed her, his tail brushed lightly against her calf.
"The Long Night Hotel."
Its tone was as flat and even as if it were stating the most ordinary fact in the world.
"A place for people who can't go back."
Eve's breath caught slightly.
"...Can't go back?"
Udon didn't answer right away.
It hopped, with practiced ease, onto the tall stool behind the front desk and settled down at a leisurely pace.
As though that seat had always belonged to him.
It didn't even glance at the clock on the wall.
As though it'd long since gotten used to time in this place being frozen at two in the morning forever.
After a few seconds, Udon finally spoke, unbothered.
"I'm the Long Night Hotel's receptionist."
"My main job is assisting the manager — mostly, keeping you from dying on your first night."
Eve stared at it: "..."
Udon finally lifted his palm-green eyes to look at her properly.
"Though, judging by how you're doing so far—"
It paused for two seconds.
"...I wouldn't get my hopes up."
Eve took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm.
Right now her phone was dead, the door wouldn't open, outside lay a fog with no visible end, and standing in front of her was a talking black cat that clearly held her in some contempt.
Absurd as it all was, she had no choice but to keep asking questions.
"You said 'first night' earlier." She kept her eyes fixed on Udon. "What did you mean by that?"
Udon's eyes lifted slightly.
"Exactly what it sounds like."
"Tonight is your first night as manager."
"If you successfully receive the guests who arrive and make it back to your own room before dawn, you pass."
Eve's fingers tightened slightly.
"And if I don't?"
Udon looked at her, his tone calm to the point of indifference.
"Then the hotel rules the manager unfit for the position."
Eve's throat tightened.
"What happens if I'm ruled unfit?"
Udon licked at his paw, unhurried.
"There's usually no second chance."
The lobby fell quiet.
Standing in the space where the cold white light met the warm yellow glow, Eve suddenly felt as though the entire hotel were watching her.
She remembered the final words from the telephone.
Survive the night.
At that exact moment.
The guest register on the counter began turning its pages again, on its own.
Rustle, rustle, rustle—
Finally, it stopped on a blank page.
A line of black handwriting slowly began to surface.
[First guest arriving shortly.]
Eve's breath stopped.
A second later—
someone knocked on the hotel doors.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.