10/04/2025
The Last Guest
The old inn at Black Hollow had been abandoned for decades. Locals whispered of strange lights in the windows and the piano playing itself at night, but no one dared go near it—until Liam, a traveling photographer chasing forgotten places, decided to spend a night there.
He set up his camera and lit a few candles in the dusty dining hall, once elegant, now filled with cobwebs and silence. Midnight struck, and with it came the scent of roses—strangely fresh in the moldy air. The piano in the corner gave a soft, haunting note.
Curious, Liam raised his camera to capture the eerie scene, but the viewfinder showed something he couldn’t see with his eyes—a woman in a blood-red gown, dancing slowly to a soundless tune. Her face was turned away, her movements fluid, graceful, yet tragic.
The camera clicked.
She stopped dancing.
Her head turned.
There were no eyes—just hollow sockets, tears of blood streaking down her pale face.
"You took my last dance," she whispered.
The camera shattered in his hands. Every door slammed shut. And as the candles blew out, the piano began to play once more.
In Black Hollow, the inn now glows every night at midnight, and some say they can still hear the soft click of a camera... and a woman's whisper behind them.
