I Work at a Haunted Hotel

📅 Published on October 7, 2020

“I Work at a Haunted Hotel”

Written by Matthew Pruitt
Edited by Craig Groshek
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by N/A

Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).

🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available

ESTIMATED READING TIME — 4 minutes

Rating: 8.00/10. From 3 votes.
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“Why do you want this job?”

I straightened my tie while staring into the eyes of this person who would determine my employment fate. His eyes looked weary and he looked tired. He sipped from his coffee mug.

“Well, sir, I feel I could do well at this job. I have great customer service experience and I am a very hard worker.”

A smile slowly came across his frozen face. I honestly just wanted a job. I moved to this new city with my girlfriend and they don’t really have much to offer. She hasn’t seen her dad in so long, though, and I haven’t met him yet. I have every intention of marrying her.

“Good enough for me! If you really want this job, I would ask you to prove it.”

He rubbed his face, and it looked like he had tears in his eyes.

“Close your eyes and say that you accept all responsibilities of this hotel. And that you are now an employee.”

“Uh…okay?” I said, taken aback a bit at the request. “I accept all responsibilities of this hotel and I am now an employee.”

The man began laughing hysterically. Joy overcame him, with tears streaming down his face.

“Oh, thank God. Thank God! Thank God I’m no longer cursed by this godforsaken place! Bless you, sir.”

I was so unbelievably confused. “What are you tal–” He cut me off.

“The list. The list, the list, the list. Take it, my boy. And pay close attention.”

He took off sprinting through the door and soon I could hear his car speeding off.

In front of the table was a letter with a sticky note on it, which read:

“Before you read this letter, just know I am truly sorry. This hotel has always been here. It just popped up one day out of the ground. Most people in town know about it so please be very careful and follow the rules.”

I was flummoxed. I had to see what was on this paper. It read:

“My dear mortal, if you are reading this you must have proclaimed the desire to be the living employee of this fine hotel. You will see some other workers but they were once in your shoes but decided to ‘check out’ early and are now forever here. A few things must be known.

This hotel has been around for a very long time and things are done a certain way for the sake of everyone’s safety. With that being said, you must follow the rules!

Rule One: If a man approaches you and asks for a pool pass, make sure to tell him you don’t have anymore.

Rule Two: human guests may stay here but do not let them on the sixth floor.

Rule Three: if you see a woman in a yellow dress make sure not to make eye contact with her. She won’t bother you unless you bother her.

Rule Four: do not talk to any other employees besides the other three lobby workers who are on different shifts than you. Failure to do so will have punishments.

Rule Five: you may stay in your employee room on your days off but do not go into any other employee’s room.

Rule Six: stay out of room 405.

Rule Seven: no television when the paintings near you warn you.

Rule Eight: the Jazz man might come through during your shift and if he does, hide under the desk. He won’t show up when human guests are nearby.

Rule Nine: set up breakfast every morning, failure to do so will upset the wrong people.

Rule Ten: never forget the rules.

You will be paid bi-weekly and get your check through the mail slot of your room. Your bags are already in your room.

If you decide to change career opportunities, have someone else accept the position. Leaving the job will make your life miserable and ending your life means permanent residency.

Best of luck. You are marked.”

I felt like I was ready for the cameras to roll out.  I was certain I was having a horrible prank pulled on me. I was waiting for my girl to come out laughing and giving me a hug.

Then Tony came walking in from a room near the front desk. He said he was one of the human ones. He was a chubby man with a reddish beard.

“This is a funny joke, buddy. So, who put you guys up to this? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, it’s hilarious.”

He sighed and with disappointment looked up at me. “I wish it were. The man that you replaced is actually your girlfriend’s father. She knew about the curse. She used to work here.”

“Listen, buddy, I’ve had enough of your jokes!”

Then I heard a smooth saxophone and keyboard rhythm. It sounded so out of tune but blended.

Tony grabbed me and pulled me down behind our desk. “Stay quiet, dammit!” The tears in his eyes showed he wasn’t joking.

I heard loud footsteps.  They began scraping on the floor as if whoever they belonged to was dancing.

“Issssss anyone here? Hello?”

The music went quiet, and when I tried to stand Tony held me down. The music began to slowly fade, and a smooth voice said, “Maybe next time.”

Tony picked me up and apologized. He explained to me that the other two employees were in their room.

“One time, the jazzman took an employee near me and he was dragged to the sixth floor. He was just snatched.

I don’t really know how to process any of this. But I am terrified. My bags are literally in my room, too.

I am so scared.

Rating: 8.00/10. From 3 votes.
Please wait...


🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available


Written by Matthew Pruitt
Edited by Craig Groshek
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by N/A

🔔 More stories from author: Matthew Pruitt


Publisher's Notes: N/A

Author's Notes: N/A

More Stories from Author Matthew Pruitt:

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Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).

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