u/AlexCross10

I needed money bad.

Not “late on rent” bad. I mean choosing between gas or food bad.

So when I found a Craigslist ad offering $300 cash a night to monitor cameras at an abandoned motel outside town, I ignored every red flag like an idiot.

The place was called the Black Pines Motel.

Twenty years ago, three people vanished there in one week. A family of tourists and then some traveling salesman. No bodies. No suspects. The motel shut down after rumors spread that guests heard knocking inside the walls at night.

Obviously fake.

At least that’s what I told myself while driving there at 11 PM with half a tank of gas and exactly twelve dollars in my bank account.

The motel sat off a dead highway surrounded by woods so thick they looked black. The sign out front still flickered weakly.

BLACK PINES MOT_L

One letter missing.

Classic horror movie crap.

An old man named Gerald met me in the parking lot. He looked about ninety. Skin gray as cigarette ash. He handed me a ring of keys and a flashlight.

“You stay in the security office till sunrise,” he said.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Easy money.

Then he grabbed my wrist before I could walk away.

His fingers were freezing cold.

“No matter what happens,” he whispered, “do not leave the office after 3 AM.”

I laughed a little.

He didn’t.

That should’ve been enough to make me leave right there.

But I went inside anyway.

The office was tiny. One desk. Coffee machine. Dust everywhere. Six old security monitors showed different parts of the motel.

Most were static-filled garbage.

Parking lot.

Hallway.

Lobby.

Ice machine.

Stairwell.

Room 16.

Room 16’s camera was weird. The picture looked cleaner than the others. Too clean. Like HD compared to VHS.

The room itself was empty except for a bed and floral wallpaper peeling off the walls.

At midnight, Gerald left.

I was alone.

For the first two hours, nothing happened.

I watched TikToks. Ate stale chips. Tried not to think about how creepy the woods looked outside.

At exactly 3:13 AM, every monitor flickered.

Then they all came back on at once.

Except the camera in Room 16.

That one had changed.

Someone was sitting on the bed.

A woman.

Long black hair covering her face.

I nearly jumped out of my chair.

I grabbed the walkie-talkie Gerald left me.

“Uh… there’s somebody in one of the rooms.”

Static.

Then Gerald’s voice cracked through.

“Which room?”

“Sixteen.”

Silence.

Then:

“Don’t look at her face.”

“What?”

“Listen to me carefully. Do not look at her face.”

The radio died.

I stared at the monitor, heart pounding.

The woman wasn’t moving.

Then slowly…

she lifted one arm and pointed directly at the camera.

At me.

I leaned closer without thinking.

And that’s when I noticed something that made my stomach drop.

The angle was wrong.

The security camera in Room 16 was mounted on the ceiling facing downward.

But the woman was pointing straight forward.

Straight at me.

Like she could see through the screen.

Then the office door creaked behind me.

I froze.

I was alone in that office.

I turned slowly toward the door.

Nothing there.

But the door was open now.

I KNOW I locked it earlier.

My chest tightened.

Then I heard it.

Breathing.

Not behind me.

Under the desk.

Slow.

Wet.

I shot backward so fast my chair slammed into the wall.

The breathing stopped instantly.

I stared under the desk.

Darkness.

Nothing else.

My hands shook while I grabbed the flashlight.

I told myself there was probably an animal down there.

A raccoon.

Possum.

Anything normal.

I crouched slowly and pointed the flashlight under the desk.

There was no animal.

Just scratches.

Thousands of them.

Deep claw marks carved into the wood from underneath.

And written between the scratches in shaky letters:

DON’T LET HER SEE YOU

Suddenly every monitor shut off.

The room went pitch black.

Then came the knocking.

Three knocks.

From the office door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I couldn’t breathe.

Another three knocks.

Then a woman’s voice.

Soft.

Right outside the door.

“Can you let me in?”

I backed away instantly.

Something about her voice felt wrong. Like multiple voices talking at once underneath it.

“I’m cold,” she said.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Then the security monitors flickered back on.

Every single camera now showed the exact same thing.

The hallway outside my office.

And standing there—

was the woman from Room 16.

Hair hanging over her face.

Completely still.

Except on one monitor… she was closer to the door.

On another… even closer.

Each screen showed her advancing a few feet.

Like the cameras were displaying the future.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Please,” she whispered. “You already let me in once.”

My blood turned to ice.

Once?

I had never been here before.

Then I noticed something on the desk.

A photograph.

I swear to God it was not there earlier.

Old Polaroid. Faded.

A picture of the security office.

Taken from the corner of the room.

And sitting at the desk…

was me.

Wearing the exact same clothes.

Same black hoodie.

Same ripped jeans.

On the back of the photo, written in marker:

THIS IS YOUR THIRD NIGHT HERE

Then the lights died again.

And from underneath the desk—

a hand wrapped around my ankle.