Ravenspire Hill always looked wrong after sunset.
The road that climbed toward the hostel curved like a broken spine, disappearing into mist that never truly lifted, even during summer.
Trees leaned inward as if listening, their branches tangled together like crooked fingers guarding a secret.
Anaya pressed her suitcase wheels harder against the gravel, breath fogging slightly in the evening chill. The taxi had refused to go farther.
"That's enough, madam," the driver muttered, already reversing.
She stood alone as the engine vanished downhill, leaving only silence and the looming structure above her.
The hostel rose from the fog like a forgotten monument. Its paint had once been cream, but now it looked sickly grey, peeled and blistered. Windows stared blankly. Some were cracked. Some were boarded.
No birds.
No insects.
Not even wind.
Just stillness.
Anaya hesitated before pushing the iron gate.
It groaned.
The sound echoed too long, stretching into the building like it had been swallowed.
Inside the reception hall, a single bulb flickered weakly. Dust floated in the air like frozen snow. A desk sat crooked near the entrance. Behind it, an old man waited — thin, pale, eyes sunk deep into his skull.
The caretaker.
He didn't look surprised to see her.
"You're late," he said quietly.
"My bus was delayed," Anaya replied, gripping her bag.
He slid a register toward her. The pages were yellow and stiff. Most names were scratched out.
As she signed, she noticed something odd.
Several room numbers were missing.
She looked up.
"Why are so many rooms crossed?"
The caretaker's pen froze mid-air.
"Those rooms are… closed."
"Why?"
Silence.
He finally pushed a key across the table. It was heavy. Cold. The tag read:
317
"Third floor," he said. "End corridor."
His eyes lifted slowly to hers.
"Do not wander at night."
Anaya swallowed.
"Is something wrong with the building?"
His lips trembled.
"Some corridors listen."
Before she could ask more, he turned away, already pretending to organize dusty files.
The conversation was over.
Anaya dragged her suitcase toward the staircase, unaware the building had already memorized her footsteps.