The Stranger in Room 302

As Jonas moved toward the stairs, the inn’s elderly bellman, Henry, caught sight of him. Henry's eyes widened for a brief moment before he shook his head. He shuffled toward Clara and whispered, “That man… I’ve seen his kind before. Keep an eye on him.” Clara, unnerved by the cryptic warning, watched as the man disappeared up the stairs, her curiosity piqued.

Strange Noises from Upstairs

The First Night’s Disturbances 

In the quiet of the night, with the wind howling outside, Clara was awakened by an eerie sound—a rhythmic tapping, like fingernails drumming on a desk, coming from upstairs. It was past midnight, and most of the inn’s guests were asleep. Room 302 was directly above her. Frowning, she got up and walked toward the staircase. The tapping stopped as she neared the landing. Silence hung in the air as she debated whether to knock on the door. Ultimately, she decided to return to her room, brushing off the sound as a figment of her imagination.

A Knock on the Door 

The following evening, the inn was quieter than usual, and Clara was finishing her shift when a loud knock reverberated through the empty lobby. Startled, she walked toward the front door and saw no one outside. But when she turned, she found Jonas standing at the bottom of the stairs, his expression unreadable. "I need more towels," he said, his voice low and hoarse. Clara nodded, her pulse quickening as she hurried to fetch the items. She could feel his gaze on her the entire time, sending chills down her spine.

The Deepening Mystery

An Unexpected Confession

Henry’s Story 

The next morning, Henry caught Clara as she poured coffee behind the counter. "That man," Henry muttered, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening, "I’ve seen him before, in another town, years ago. He rented a room, just like this, stayed for a few days, then vanished without a trace. But before he left, people started talking—about missing items, strange sounds in the night. Something’s not right with him." Henry's words planted seeds of doubt in Clara's mind, and she resolved to keep a closer watch on Jonas.

A Sinister Discovery 

Later that day, as Clara was cleaning rooms, she noticed the door to Room 302 was slightly ajar. Her curiosity got the best of her, and she peeked inside. The room appeared neat, but on the desk was an open notebook, pages covered in messy, frantic writing. Scribbled across the top was a phrase that sent a shiver down her spine: “They know where I am.” Quickly closing the door, she hurried back downstairs, her heart pounding in her chest. Something about Jonas didn’t add up, and she knew she had to be careful.

The Final Night

An Unsettling Confrontation 

That evening, as Clara prepared to lock up, Jonas appeared in the lobby, his face pale and drawn. "I need to talk to you," he said, his voice urgent. He leaned in closer, his eyes darting around the room. "They’re coming for me. They’ve been following me for years, and now they’ve found me." Clara, taken aback, tried to calm him down, but his paranoia only grew. "You don’t understand," he whispered, "I have to leave. But they’ll never let me." Before she could ask who "they" were, Jonas bolted from the inn, disappearing into the night.

The Vanishing 

The following morning, Room 302 was empty. Jonas was gone, leaving no trace behind—not even a checkout note. The only clue was the open window, curtains fluttering in the breeze. His belongings had vanished, and the inn felt eerily still. Clara, haunted by the strange events, searched the room one last time and found a single item tucked under the bed—a worn photograph of a group of men, Jonas among them. On the back, scribbled in faded ink, were the words, "We will find you."

As the days passed, Clara couldn’t shake the feeling that Jonas was still out there, hiding from something—or someone. And though the inn returned to its quiet routine, the memory of the stranger in Room 302 lingered like a shadow, reminding her that some mysteries are never truly solved.