Emily Hunts Monsters
9
* * *
'To think I would encounter a Neapolitan Creepypasta here.'
Could this also be related to the evil spirit in Room 333?
With that question in mind, I scrolled down to the very end, where the 13th clause appeared.
[13.erruttadeRekh-en-efpanisutksheretThere is someoneIwiyinB'knnetjerishesepunenhorefSefetjusnkekwinside the wall mirrorNyarlathotepbuyetyenbehind youEmseshet'wdjuusenefuTurn aroundtehemyNyarlathotep]
The text of this clause was completely garbled.
I tilted my head, wondering if it was a printing error, when the sentence written directly below it caught my eye.
[This guide consists of a total of 12 clauses. If you see a 13th clause, stop reading this guide immediately.
And…….]
'Twelve clauses?'
But the instructions clearly went up to the 13th clause. Just as I thought this and reached to flip to the previous page, the very last phrase grabbed my attention.
[Absolutely, absolutely do not turn around.]
The moment I read the warning-like text, a chill ran down my spine. A strange sense of unease washed over me, and goosebumps erupted across my back.
I froze, turning to stone before I could even think.
“…….”
All I could hear was the ticking of the clock and the sound of my own heart, beating faster than usual.
Even so, I was certain. ……Someone was watching me.
'But I am the only one in this room.'
As the gaze poured onto my back, the sentence from the guide kept flashing in my mind.
[Absolutely, absolutely do not turn around.]
My mouth went dry, and my heart hammered against my ribs.
Just as my heart was pounding from the tension—
Ring!
The room phone suddenly rang, and I instinctively turned around.
I was breathless with shock, but there was nothing there except for the large mirror hanging on the wall.
“……What is this? I was worried for nothing.”
The moment I let out a sigh of relief and reached for the phone, the ringing stopped. Then, a chilling whisper echoed.
-I shall protect your mind…….
Protect my mind? Could it be that this guide has some sort of sinister mechanism embedded in it?
'Then again, there is more than one creepy thing about this hotel.'
The evil spirit of Room 333.
The hotel conduct guide, filled with bizarre clauses that inflict "mental corruption" just by being read.
And above all, the existence of "Edward Hyde," whom the "King in Yellow" personally designated as a target for elimination.
……They all clicked together in my head like pieces of a puzzle.
“So that was it.”
Having grasped the general connection, I nodded quietly. I waited for the chance to meet "Miss Melbourne," the witness the bellboy had mentioned.
* * * ‘The Evil Spirit of Room 333.’
It was only about a year ago that the rumors began to circulate in earnest.
The room, now dubbed the “Cursed Suite,” had become a site of frequent accidents and incidents, occurring almost every month.
‘A guest staying alone in 333 slit their wrists, they say.’
‘There was a lovers’ quarrel in 333, and one of them lost their life.’
‘If you call the name Eddie three times in front of the mirror in 333, an evil spirit appears.’
The hotel management, fearing for their reputation, eventually banned bookings for Room 333 to put an end to the gossip, but it was to no avail.
If anything, it only drew in more journalists and pseudo-occultists sniffing around for a scoop.
The interesting part, however, was that the time the “evil spirit” began to appear coincided precisely with the moment Mr. Langham, the nephew of the founder, Sir Graham Langham, inherited the Langham Hotel.
Yet, very few employees were aware of this fact.
Most simply harbored a vague, instinctive fear of the room.
“Why me again….”
Miss Melbourne, the chambermaid assigned to clean Room 333 for the second week in a row, grumbled in front of the door.
But what could she do? Complaining wouldn't change anything.
She remembered what a close colleague had said to her once.
‘Sally, you have the worst luck. How do you manage to get picked in the lottery so many times in a row?’
It was true.
Since everyone avoided cleaning Room 333, they had decided to settle it by drawing lots, and her misfortune was that she had been picked three times consecutively.
“It can’t be helped. Let’s just get it over with.”
Sally Melbourne sighed one last time and opened the door.
A dazzlingly opulent interior unfolded before her, from the gold-leaf ceiling to the marble-finished floor.
‘A beautiful shell, but nothing more.’
It might be a night of luxury for the guests, but for those responsible for cleaning, the layout was nothing but a headache.
The moment she stepped inside with another sigh.
“Oh?”
She saw a familiar man standing in front of the table in the inner room, muttering something to himself.
He was a head taller than most, with a sturdy build and a handsome face that reminded one of a Greek god.
It was Mr. Langham, the successor to Graham Langham and the current representative of the Langham Hotel in London.
“Um… sir?”
Sally Melbourne approached cautiously, but he didn't seem to notice her presence.
Mr. Langham was muttering to himself about prayer times and prayer books, and then—
He began to speak in a strange, bizarre language.
“Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh….”
It was so different from his usual soft-spoken voice.
Perhaps it was the unsettling, guttural sound scraping from deep within his throat, or the hissing, serpentine pronunciation.
Just hearing it made Sally Melbourne’s skin crawl.
“Cthulhu R'lyeh Wgah'nagl Fhtagn….”
It was a grotesque language she had never heard in her life, one that defied imagination as to how such sounds could even be produced.
Just as she approached slowly, gripped by an ominous premonition—
She was horrified the moment the representative turned to face her.
“…….”
Not only were there dark, bruised circles under his large eyes, but his eyes, usually clear and bright, were bloodshot.
Only his dark blue irises moved restlessly, as if searching for something.
It wasn't just simple fatigue; he looked as if he were possessed by a ghost. Sally barely managed to swallow a scream that threatened to escape her throat.
Clatter! She dropped the broom she was holding.
Only then did Mr. Langham lift his head and look toward her.
“Who….”
“Ah, it’s me.”
With her heart pounding from anxiety, Sally pointed to the name tag pinned to her chest.
“I’m Sally Melbourne, assigned to clean Room 333. I didn’t know you were in here, sir….”
“……Room 333?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Langham looked dazed.
He blinked his eyes for a long time, then looked around frantically, like someone waking from a daydream.
“Why am I… here right now?”
“Sir?”
Sally tilted her head at the representative, who seemed to have a screw loose, when—
She felt a stinging gaze on her back. She turned around, wondering if someone had entered.
‘…It’s just a wall mirror.’
She must have just imagined it. The moment she turned back around—
A human figure appeared and vanished within the mirror.
Unaware of that fact, Sally asked the pale-faced Mr. Langham cautiously.
“Sir, are you alright? Should I call the house physician?”
“No, I’m fine… I, I shall take my leave now.”
He didn't look fine at all, but if a superior said so, that was that.
Sally watched anxiously as Mr. Langham stumbled out of the door of Room 333.
“What is wrong with him?”
Mr. Langham, known among the staff as the “Young Master,” was famous for his gentle nature and kind character.
However, the general consensus was that he lacked the backbone to lead a business of this scale.
Moreover, there were unsubstantiated rumors that he was congenitally prone to being possessed by spirits.
Sally didn't believe in ghosts, so she dismissed it as mere gossip.
‘Is he so unwell that he’s talking nonsense?’
That was as far as her thoughts went.
After bringing in her cleaning supplies and finishing her preparations, she picked up the broom she had dropped and began to sweep diligently.
…She wanted to get out of this unpleasant Room 333 as soon as possible.
“Dust piles up even if no one stays here.”
She grumbled to herself, and Jimmy’s words from earlier came to mind.
‘Miss Melbourne, I’ve sold your name a little.’
‘Sold my name? What are you talking about?’
Jimmy was a bellboy who hadn't been working at the Langham Hotel for more than a few months.
Judging by his appearance and speech, he seemed to be the child of an educated family, though why he was doing this kind of work was a mystery.
‘Is he just trying to earn some pocket money since he doesn't work all day?’
He was sharp-witted and quick on his feet, which made him popular with guests, earning him quite a lot in tips.
But earlier that morning, he had slipped up to her and said:
‘You know the woman Mr. Langham brought? Mrs. Emily Carter.’
Mrs. Emily Carter.
A woman who was not only the talk of London society every day at one point but was now known as “London’s most beautiful widow.”
The fact that such a woman was staying in the top-tier suite at the invitation of Mr. Langham, who had always kept his distance from women, was already a massive issue and topic of gossip among the hotel staff.
‘I know who she is. But what about it?’
‘She’s very interested in the evil spirit of Room 333. You know Mrs. Carter is a horror novelist, right?’
Of course she did. In fact, to the working class like Sally, the name “Emily Carter” was famous for a different reason.
The horror novels she primarily wrote were popular among the lower classes, as they could be bought for the low price of one penny, hence the name “penny dreadfuls.”
‘But we’re strictly forbidden from talking about that to outsiders. The management’s guidelines….’
‘How many people actually follow those guidelines?’
Jimmy shrugged and added.
‘I’ve already gotten my hands on most of the internal documents for Mrs. Carter.’
‘You really have no fear!’
Sally was about to scold him, but her eyes widened when she saw the banknote in the boy’s hand. It was a 10-shilling note, far too large to be a mere tip.
‘If you bring her the right information, Miss Melbourne, you could get one too. She said she wants anything related to the ghost of Room 333.’
‘But I don’t really know anything….’
All she knew were the rumors everyone else already knew.
‘If you don’t know anything, you can start looking now. Weren’t you assigned to clean Room 333 today, Miss Melbourne?’
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