You Won’t Believe The Horrors I Experienced at the Haunted Emily Morgan Hotel

I stepped into room 809, the door clicking shut behind me as I took in my surroundings. Two queen beds, a small desk, and a standard hotel room layout greeted me. But something felt off. A chill hung in the air, sending a shiver down my spine. I walked over to the thermostat, adjusting the temperature, but the cold persisted, as if it had seeped into the very walls.

Exhausted from my travel, I decided to address the issue later. I kicked off my heels and sank into the soft embrace of the bed, allowing myself a brief respite before dinner. The gentle hum of the air conditioner lulled me into a light slumber.

When I awoke, the room was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. I freshened up and made my way downstairs to the hotel restaurant. The dining area buzzed with the chatter of other conference attendees, their conversations melding into a soothing background noise. I settled into a corner table and perused the menu, opting for a simple yet satisfying meal.

As I savored the last bites of my dinner, my thoughts drifted to the conference ahead. Excitement and anticipation mingled with a touch of nervousness. I had worked hard to secure my place at this event, and I was determined to make the most of it.

With a contented sigh, I pushed back from the table and made my way to the elevator. As I waited, a woman joined me, her presence almost startling in the quiet lobby. She was dressed in an all-gray outfit, reminiscent of an old-time nurse or a laundry attendant. Her face was expressionless, her eyes distant.

The elevator doors opened, and we stepped inside. As the doors slid shut, the temperature plummeted, the chill from my room seeming to follow me. I shivered, rubbing my arms in an attempt to ward off the cold.

“Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?” I asked, trying to break the silence.

The woman remained still, her gaze fixed straight ahead. No response, no acknowledgment of my presence. The air grew heavy with an inexplicable tension.

The elevator reached my floor, and I stepped out, eager to escape the unsettling atmosphere. I turned to bid the woman goodbye, a polite gesture ingrained in me.

“Have a good evening,” I said, forcing a smile.

The woman’s eyes met mine, and in a calm, eerie voice, she replied, “You too, Miss Emily.”

My blood ran cold. Emily? That wasn’t my name. I opened my mouth to correct her, but the elevator doors were already closing, the woman’s figure disappearing behind them.

I stood there, frozen, a chill crawling up my spine. The empty hallway stretched before me, suddenly unfamiliar and foreboding. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss, that the woman’s words held a deeper, more unsettling meaning.

With a deep breath, I turned and hurried to my room, the key card trembling in my hand as I unlocked the door. The room greeted me with its persistent chill, and I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder, half-expecting to see the woman in gray standing behind me.

But I was alone, the silence broken only by the hum of the air conditioner. I sank onto the bed, my mind racing with questions. Who was the woman? Why had she called me Emily? And why did I have the chilling impression that the elevator had been empty all along?

As I sat there, the weight of the strange encounter pressing down on me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my stay at the DoubleTree hotel was about to take a turn for the unexpected.

I tossed and turned all night, unable to find any peace. Before bed, I had made the mistake of looking into the history of the hotel, and what I discovered sent chills down my spine. The full name of the establishment was the Emily Morgan Double Tree Hotel, and it came with a disturbing claim to fame: it was considered the most haunted hotel in the country. Of all the places I could have chosen to stay, I had unwittingly picked a hotel with a reputation for paranormal activity. Even more unsettling was the fact that the mysterious woman on the elevator had addressed me as Emily. Who was this Emily Morgan?

I couldn’t bring myself to delve any deeper into the hotel’s eerie past. Instead, I resolved to pretend the whole incident had never occurred, hoping to put it behind me.

As I emerged from my fitful slumber the following morning, the events of the previous evening still clung to my consciousness like a persistent fog. Stepping into the shower, I allowed the steaming water to cascade over me, wishing it could cleanse my mind of the disturbing encounter with the woman in gray as easily as it washed away the lingering fatigue from my sleepless night.

After getting dressed, I made my way down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. I spotted my coworker, James, already seated at a table, nursing a cup of coffee. I joined him, offering a brief greeting as I settled into the chair across from him.

“Morning, James,” I said, reaching for the coffee pot. “How’d you sleep?”

James shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. “Not too bad. You?”

I hesitated for a moment, considering whether to mention the strange occurrence from the night before. But I decided against it, not wanting to dwell on the unsettling experience.

“Same here,” I replied, pouring myself a cup of the steaming liquid.

We fell into a comfortable silence, focusing on our breakfast. I ordered scrambled eggs, and James followed suit. As we ate, our conversation remained light, revolving around the quality of the coffee and the texture of the eggs.

“I like my scrambled eggs a bit fluffier,” James remarked, prodding at the slightly overcooked mass on his plate.

I nodded in agreement, taking a bite of my own eggs. “Yeah, these could use a little more air in them.”

We continued our casual chat, discussing the upcoming conference and the sessions we planned to attend. As we finished our breakfast, James glanced at his watch and pushed back from the table.

“Well, I better head over to the convention center,” he said, standing up. “I want to make sure I’m there early to grab a good seat.”

I nodded, reaching for my badge to follow him. But as I rummaged through my bag, a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. My badge was nowhere to be found.

“Damn it,” I muttered, realizing I must have left it in my room. “I forgot my badge. You go ahead, James. I’ll meet you at the convention center after I grab it.”

James gave me a quick nod and a wave before heading out of the restaurant. I sighed, frustrated with myself for the oversight. I hurried back to my room, hoping the badge would be easy to find.

I stepped into the elevator, my mind still grappling with the strange encounter with the woman in gray. I pressed the button for the 8th floor, eager to return to the comfort of my room. The doors slid shut, and the elevator began its ascent. But as the numbers climbed, my unease grew. 9… 10… 11… The elevator showed no signs of slowing down.

12… 13… 14. With a soft ding, the doors opened, revealing a dimly lit hallway that was most certainly not the 8th floor. I hesitated, my finger hovering over the “door close” button. But curiosity got the better of me, and I stepped out into the eerie corridor.

The air was cold, almost frigid, and carried a faint scent of antiseptic. The walls seemed to close in on me, the dim lighting casting long shadows that danced and flickered with each step I took. I wrapped my arms around myself, a futile attempt to ward off the chill that seeped into my bones.

As I made my way down the hallway, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was the woman from the elevator, her gray outfit now more clearly resembling that of a nurse from a bygone era. Her face was pale, almost translucent, and her eyes held a haunting emptiness.

“Emily,” she said, her voice a hollow whisper. “You’ve escaped from here once before, but now you must perform your final prep for operation.”

I shook my head, my heart pounding in my chest. “No, you’ve got it wrong. I’m not Emily. I’m Brittany.”

But the nurse paid no heed to my words. She beckoned to someone behind her, and two orderlies stepped forward, their faces grim and determined. They grabbed me by the arms, their grip like iron, and began to drag me down the hallway.

I screamed, my voice echoing off the walls. “Let me go! I’m not Emily! I don’t belong here!”

But my pleas fell on deaf ears. The orderlies hauled me into an operating room, the stark white walls and gleaming metal instruments sending a wave of terror through me. They strapped me down to the operating table, the restraints biting into my skin.

The nurse loomed over me, her eyes cold and lifeless. “We must extract all the souls who died in the fire,” she said, her voice a monotone. “It is the only way to set them free.”

I thrashed against the restraints, my screams growing more desperate with each passing second. But it was no use. The nurse picked up a scalpel, the blade glinting in the harsh light of the operating room.

In a moment of sheer desperation, I managed to wrench one arm free from the restraints. I lashed out, striking the nurse with all the strength I could muster. She stumbled back, the scalpel clattering to the floor.

I seized the opportunity, tearing myself free from the remaining restraints. I bolted from the operating room, my heart pounding in my ears as I raced down the hallway. The elevator doors stood open, a beacon of hope in the nightmarish landscape.

I lunged into the elevator, my fingers frantically jabbing at the buttons. The doors began to slide shut, but not before I caught a glimpse of the nurse and the orderlies, their faces contorted with rage as they surged towards me.

The elevator jolted into motion, descending at a dizzying speed. I braced myself against the walls, my breath coming in ragged gasps. But just as I thought I had escaped, the floor of the elevator gave way beneath me.

I plummeted, a scream tearing from my throat as I fell through the darkness. With a splash, I found myself submerged in water, the shock of the cold stealing the breath from my lungs.

I surfaced, gasping and sputtering, only to realize that I was in the hotel’s basement pool. The water was murky, the tiled walls closing in on me like a tomb. I swam to the edge, my limbs heavy with exhaustion and fear.

As I pulled myself out of the pool, I couldn’t help but glance upward, half-expecting to see the nurse and the orderlies peering down at me from the gaping hole in the elevator shaft. But there was only darkness, a yawning void that seemed to swallow all light and hope.

I stumbled through the basement, my mind reeling from the horrors I had just experienced. I had to find a way out, a way to escape this nightmare before it consumed me entirely.

I screamed as the nurse dragged me toward the pool, my heels digging into the cold, unyielding floor. The chamber was hidden deep within the morgue, a place that should not have existed. The pool itself was an anomaly, its dark, still waters seeming to belong to another era entirely.

“No, please!” I begged, my voice raw with terror. “I’m not Emily! I’m Brittany!”

But the nurse was deaf to my pleas. With a strength that belied her frail appearance, she forced me into the water. I thrashed and fought, but her grip was iron-clad. As my head was submerged, my lungs burned, screaming for air. But through the murky depths, I saw something that made my blood run cold.

Beneath the surface, the morgue doors lay submerged, their once-polished wood now warped and rotting. It was a sight both terrifying and mesmerizing, a surreal vision that seemed to defy all logic and reason.

I kicked and clawed at the nurse, desperate to break free. My screams were muffled by the water, bubbles streaming from my mouth as I fought for my life. Just as I felt my strength waning, my vision beginning to blur, flames erupted around the pool.

The fire cast dancing shadows on the walls, illuminating the horror etched on the nurse’s face. In that moment of distraction, I wrenched myself free, gasping for air as I broke the surface. I scrambled out of the pool, my clothes drenched and clinging to my skin.

Without a second thought, I ran, my feet pounding against the floor as I navigated the smoky hallways. The crackle of the flames and the searing heat chased me, but it was the ghost’s voice that filled me with true terror. It echoed through the corridors, twisted with rage, calling out Emily’s name – my name.

I ran until my lungs burned and my legs ached, but the hallways seemed to stretch on forever. And then, I found myself at a dead end. My heart pounded in my chest as the footsteps of the nurse grew closer, the sound of her approach filling me with dread. I turned, ready to face my fate, fear coursing through my veins.

But just as I thought all hope was lost, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was a woman, her presence calmer and more authoritative than the deranged nurse. “Through here,” she whispered urgently, pressing a hidden panel in the wall.

To my astonishment, the panel swung open, revealing a doorway. The woman pushed me through, and the panel shut behind me with a resounding click of finality. I stumbled forward, my eyes widening as I found myself in the stark contrast of a hotel room.

The air was blissfully smoke-free, devoid of the sounds of the hospital, the fire, or the nurse’s haunting voice. I collapsed to the floor, relief mingling with the confusion and fear that still gripped my heart. How had I ended up here? What was the meaning of this nightmare?

I stepped out of the room, my heart still racing from the nightmarish ordeal. As I glanced at the room number, a chill ran down my spine. Room 810. I recalled the whispers among the hotel staff about this particular room being haunted. The coincidence was too uncanny to ignore.

I looked at my watch, expecting hours to have passed, but to my astonishment, only two minutes had elapsed since I left James in the restaurant. How was that possible? The horrors I had experienced felt like they had lasted an eternity.

As I stood there, trying to make sense of it all, a part of me wanted to run, to check out of this hotel and never look back. But before I could act on that impulse, a gentle voice whispered, “You’re okay.”

The voice was soothing, almost ethereal, and it seemed to emanate from within me. Suddenly, a wave of calm washed over me, and for the first time since the nightmarish encounter began, I felt a sense of peace. The fear and confusion that had gripped my heart began to dissipate, replaced by a newfound clarity.

I took a deep breath and made my way back to my room. To my relief, my badge was right where I had left it, sitting on the nightstand. I picked it up, running my fingers over the smooth surface, a tangible reminder of the reality I had temporarily left behind.

With my badge in hand, I headed to the convention center, determined to focus on my work and put the strange events of the morning behind me. As I walked through the bustling crowds, my mind kept drifting back to the voice that had comforted me outside Room 810.

Was it possible that it had been Emily who saved me? The thought seemed absurd, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a connection between the ghostly figure of Emily Morgan and the harrowing experience I had just endured.

Throughout the day, as I attended meetings and presentations, my thoughts kept returning to the mystery surrounding the hotel and its haunted history. I found myself researching Emily Morgan during breaks, desperate to uncover any clues that might shed light on my own experience.

As the day drew to a close, I sat in the hotel lobby, lost in thought. The events of the past 24 hours played out in my mind like a surreal movie, each scene more bizarre than the last. I couldn’t help but wonder if I had somehow become entangled in a ghostly drama that had been playing out for decades.

Had Emily Morgan, in some inexplicable way, reached out to me from beyond the grave? Had she saved me from the clutches of the deranged nurse and the horrors of the hospital? The questions swirled in my mind, begging for answers that I knew might never come.

As I sat there, the bustling lobby fading into the background, I felt a strange sense of connection to Emily. Though I had never met her, I couldn’t shake the feeling that our paths had crossed for a reason. Perhaps, in some way, we were kindred spirits, two souls caught in the web of the hotel’s dark history.

I knew that I might never fully understand what had happened to me, but I also knew that I would never forget it. The experience had changed me, opening my eyes to the possibility of a world beyond the one I had always known.

With a sigh, I gathered my things and headed back to my room, ready to face whatever lay ahead. As I stepped into the elevator, I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder, half-expecting to see Emily’s ghostly figure watching me from the shadows.

But the lobby was empty, and the elevator doors slid shut, carrying me up to my floor. As I walked down the hallway, I felt a strange sense of peace settle over me. Whatever had happened, whatever forces had brought me to this place, I knew that I had emerged stronger, more resilient than before.

And though the mystery of Emily Morgan and the haunted hotel might never be fully solved, I knew that I would carry the memory of this experience with me forever, a reminder of the strange and inexplicable ways in which our lives can intersect with the unknown.