Short Horror Stories

ROOM NO 347

The Raajmahal Hotel is believed to be haunted. Rumour has it that Maharaja Sangram Singh's soul haunts the entire left wing of the heritage hotel ever since Rajmata was betrayed by the friendship of an infamous hotelier. Rajmata knew that it would bring great unhappiness to their ancestors and one of them was Maharaja Sangram Singh who would have never wanted his home to be a hotel. She could do nothing about it but curse with her hidden tears that no one was going to be happy ever after staying at the hotel. Then she widened her gaze at him, and suddenly, yelled that nobody would be happy with the blood money earned from their ancestral property. He smirked at her.

One day, two men from the staff were drinking alcohol in a room which once was known to be the private chamber of Maharaja Sangram Singh where he preferred to spend in solitude with authentic Veena. That room later became three hundred and forty-seven, available to the guests for a stay. It was storming that day as if the sky was mourning somebody's pain. One of them was so drunk that he spilt rum on the floor and continued to murmur. The portrait of Maharaja Sangram Singh which no one knew of, suddenly fell. He joked that the days of kings were long gone. The sober one replied that it was true but he shouldn't have done it as the manager won't spare them. He insisted on not having another one but as he refused, he left to get a cloth.

The power suddenly went off and his view was blurry but he forced his eyes open. As the thunderstorm struck, a silhouette of a tall, sturdy, firm man who had on a royal garment and a scabbard in his hands.

The man asked for a cloth and started teasing a woman who was working there. She gave the cloth to him and went back to her work. He got back to the room. He couldn't believe his eyes when he opened the door. He saw a Maharaja who was grimacing in anger, he cut the head of that drunkard. He was ten feet tall and he looked as if he were going to a war. The door shut itself. This man uttered a cry but it couldn't be heard because of the thunderstorms. The king who had blood on his face moved forward. He cried and cried but no one came to help him.

In the morning, the police couldn't understand the crime. It couldn't be an accident. The two men wouldn't possibly kill themselves because their bodies were cut into parts which were scattered all around the room. If there was an outsider who could have killed them then why would there be no proof or sign of him because the people didn't see anyone go in? These questions were never answered, this case was closed years ago. Nothing happened to the portrait, it's perfectly hung in its place. If one could see, there was a smile on the portrait or a cruel grin.

Today that room is a part of the hotel. Because of the increasing number of hotel guests, many of the rooms in the left wing became a part of the hotel including the room where the mystery to the police took place.

A warm board which was named Room 347 got plated on the door. It fell with a lightning force. The distance between the door and where it fell was hair-raising to the worker. He put it back again and started to move. It fell again. He crept out but put it back again. When he started to move, the sound of the board hitting the floor; appeared like someone was angry and becoming hostile. He took it in his hands and started putting it back. Before he could, a voice uttered a loud cry that made him run away. It was a firm, loud, aggressive, raspy voice.

Chitraleka- a news writer found this to be a brilliant story to work on. Somebody told her about the Raajmahal Hotel and its rumours of being haunted. She wanted to know the truth about the hotel. She came on a rainy night and the first thing she did was to call her friend Lakshita. It was a silent and weird lobby. She told her friend that she wanted her to develop the reel as she was going to take many pictures of the hotel. She put on the phone when the manager handed her the keys to room 347 of the left wing. She smiled at him and started moving from there.

She continued clicking her camera in the hallway. The angles she was taking the shots were diagonal, vertical and horizontal. She was told solemnly by the bell boy that she was not allowed to take pictures. She bit her tongue when he left from there. She turned around and started humming a song. As she found the room.347 she took out the keys. She was still humming but as she heard a grunt, she shook. She became a little nervous but pulled the door handle. The creaking sound of the door was a little noisy and stingy. She peeped inside the room and after being assured, she put her bag on the floor and closed the door.