Creepypastas Storys

Rink Ridge Inn -Immolation

The doors of the Pink Ridge Inn have a lever knob just under the key card-swiper and they all hang horizontal except for the knob of room 203. It droops a bit. Sits cockeyed. One day I asked the General Manager why and he told me the story of a man, roughly three years ago, that had locked himself in room 203 and set himself on fire. A suicide. A guest in the adjacent room called 911 before rushing across the hall and busting the handle open with the butt of a fire extinguisher. Though all the carpets, walls, and furniture in the room have been replaced, that crooked handle still remains years later.

Imagine my trepidation, then, when on those lonely night shifts a guest on the second floor calls the front desk about the smell of smoke hanging in the hallways. It happens at least once a month or so. The smell, I tell myself, is just the scent of a passing smoker. Someone lighting up in their room despite the "no smoking" signs on every door.

I'm afraid that explanation will no longer do. Last night I investigated the smell of smoke in that wing of the hotel and when I touched the lever knob of room 203, the metal singed my fingertips.