IOHH 8

I instinctively ducked behind the corner. I couldn’t see the person’s face hidden in the darkness, but that sharp metallic scent—there was no mistaking it. It was blood. And no one wandering around a hallway in the dead of night, covered in blood, could possibly be a normal person.

I held my breath and tried to figure out the safest way back to my room.

The sound of shoes clicking against the floor grew closer… then stopped right in front of me.

“Who’s there behind the corner? Don’t hide. Please come out.”

The voice startled me, but as I listened more carefully, I realized it sounded familiar. Slowly, I stepped out from behind the wall.

There stood a man with bloodstains on his clothes. It was the white-haired man who had entered the office earlier. With red stains splattered across his white hair and a black coat draped over his frame, he looked more like a serial killer than anything else.

And yet, the words he spoke next were calm and courteous—just like a hotelier.

“It’s dangerous to be out alone at this hour. Please be sure to bring an attendant next time. Any member of our staff will gladly fulfill your request.”

“…I see. Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

Hopefully, there won’t be a next time. Once is more than enough when it comes to running into a man drenched in blood in the middle of the night. I was planning to leave this hotel in a few days anyway. Until then, I had no intention of stepping out of my room after dark ever again.

Noticing the unease on my face, the man tilted his head slightly. A few seconds later, it seemed to dawn on him—the blood on his own body was likely the cause. He pulled out a handkerchief and began wiping himself down, bowing slightly as he did.

“Apologies for the untidy appearance. It’s only blood splattered during work—please don’t be alarmed.”

“……”

That explanation doesn’t help… What kind of work splashes that much blood around?

I unconsciously took a small step back. The man didn’t seem bothered by my reaction. Once he finished cleaning off the blood, he calmly asked,

“Come to think of it, what brings you out here?”

“…I left my necklace on the desk in the office. It’s important to me, and I felt uneasy without it.”

“In that case, allow me to retrieve it for you. Please return to your room. I’ll bring it to you right away.”

“Huh? Oh, wait—”

Before I could even finish my sentence, he turned and briskly walked off toward the office. Left standing alone at the corner, I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t meant to make him run an errand for me. The only reason I came out myself was because I didn’t want to bother the staff.

But he was already gone. I had no choice but to head back to my room. I didn’t want to linger in a dim hallway lit by only a few flickering candles.

A short while later, someone knocked on my door.

“Excuse me. It’s Mortimer. I’ve brought your necklace from the office.”

I checked through the peephole to confirm it was the same man. Just in case it was another malevolent spirit impersonating him, I kept the chain lock on as I opened the door slightly.

He had changed into a fresh outfit and handed me the necklace with a polite nod.

“Is this the item you were looking for?”

A silver chain with a blue gem-studded pendant. That was the one. The moment I held it in my hand, the anxiety weighing on my chest eased a little.

Now that I had what I came for, I was about to thank him and shut the door when he lightly held it open and spoke again before I could react.

“This may be an odd question, but… have you held a funeral for the previous manager yet?”

“…No. Not yet. Actually… I don’t even know what happened to his body.”

“The general manager didn’t tell you anything about that?”

He frowned slightly. Judging by his wording—‘not even that’—it sounded like he knew exactly what had happened to my uncle’s body. I was supposed to get more details from Ezechiel once the paperwork was done tomorrow afternoon, but nothing said I had to wait. This might be a quicker way to get answers.

“Then… do you know what happened to my uncle’s body?”

“Yes. Regrettably… the hotel consumed the manager’s remains.”

“…Consumed them? What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. Just as you had Room 103’s guest dealt with earlier, the manager’s body was consumed by the hotel. However, unlike that guest, the manager had already passed, so it had no effect on his soul. Only the body was lost.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut.

The hotel consumed my uncle’s body?

It was a small relief that, unlike Room 103’s guest, he wasn’t doomed to eternal torment… but to think we couldn’t even recover the body. We wouldn’t be able to hold a proper funeral. It reminded me of the time I held a memorial without remains after my family perished in that fire… and now, again…

What made my stomach churn was the thought that my uncle’s body had vanished in the same way as the one I’d disposed of earlier.

Then another question rose up in my mind. Why hadn’t the staff recovered my uncle’s body, even if he died by suicide?

I demanded an answer.

The man hesitated for a moment before responding in a quiet voice.

“The recovery of the manager’s remains falls under the general manager’s duties. We’re not allowed to interfere. I’m afraid… that’s all I’m permitted to say. My apologies.”

“…It may not be much, but I’m here to deliver this in his place. One of the staff found it while cleaning the room.”

The man pulled a book from inside his coat and handed it to me. Upon closer inspection, I realized it wasn’t a book—it was a diary. Engraved on the corner of the cover was the name Jervis Lindetail. When I asked the man, he confirmed that it indeed belonged to my uncle.

I stared down at the diary in silence, then pulled it into my arms and held it close. I was relieved—grateful even—to have something, anything, left behind by my uncle. Maybe I’d be able to trace his steps now. I gave the man a small bow to show my thanks.

He watched me for a moment, then added in an almost casual tone, “This is entirely unrelated, but I don’t believe the general manager mentioned it… While you’re staying at this hotel, no matter what happens, do not eat any pomegranates.”

Now that he mentioned it, there had been an incident earlier at the restaurant—I’d nearly eaten a pomegranate. One had suddenly fallen from the fruit basket and rolled right to my feet. I didn’t eat it because this man had appeared and stared at me with a sharp gaze.

“…Why not?” I asked.

“Anyone who eats a pomegranate becomes part of the hotel. Without exception.”

I went quiet. So before Room 103 could even get me, I almost got devoured by the hotel itself. This place is insane. It just swallows people up for the smallest things. It was a miracle the hotel hadn’t been shut down yet.

The man went on to explain a few more precautions: don’t enter the garden maze, never leave the terrace doors open at night, and don’t look at the painting in the west wing for more than five seconds. He didn’t say why, and frankly, I didn’t want to know. I had no plans to test any of them.

“You were right to be cautious when you opened the door earlier,” he said. “From now on, don’t open the door for anyone unless you’re absolutely sure. Especially at night. If someone comes to see you, ask for their name or their exact business.”

That advice wasn’t particularly shocking—those were basic safety rules even in normal hotels. I nodded and was about to let the conversation end there, when something occurred to me. Just like with Ezekiel earlier, I still didn’t know this man’s name.

I vaguely remembered hearing the name “Mortimer” when he knocked on the door earlier. But I didn’t even know his title, let alone his full name. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“Then… what’s your name?”

“…The general manager didn’t tell you that either?”

He pressed his fingers to his forehead, clearly exasperated. The more I talked to this man, the more I questioned what exactly Ezekiel had told me. It felt like he’d left out every piece of information I actually needed—whether on purpose or by mistake.

The man let out a resigned sigh and said, “I’m in charge of security at this hotel.”

Head of security. Basically, the highest-ranking guard here. I didn’t know how the security system worked in this place, but at least they had someone responsible for it. The fact that I found comfort in something so basic was a terrifying statement about the hotel itself.

“My name is Athanasio Mortimer. Call me whatever you prefer.”

I know it’s rude to think this about someone’s name, but it sounded like something out of a history book—like the kind of name someone’s great-great-grandfather might have had. If it were a baptismal name, I’d get it, but who uses that while working at a hotel?

“Well then, I’ll call you Mr. Mortimer. I’m Kaina Lindetail. I look forward to your help while I’m staying here.”

“Of course. I’ll do my best to keep you safe.”

His golden eyes shimmered for a brief moment. It wasn’t unsettling—in fact, it felt… warm. It was strange to feel something like that in a place as eerie as this.

After Mortimer left, I immediately sat down on the sofa and opened my uncle’s diary. It was thicker than I expected—probably over a year’s worth of entries.