Jake, the night-shift receptionist, sat behind the worn-out desk, his eyes scanning the computer screen. His heart skipped a beat when the screen flickered, revealing an unexpected reservation for Room 404. "That can't be right," he muttered to himself, puzzled by the anomaly.

Jake grabbed his flashlight, the beam cutting through the darkness as he approached the slightly ajar door of Room 404. Each step felt heavier, the chill intensifying as he neared the room. His hand trembled slightly as he reached for the door, his breath visible in the cold air.

As Jake entered, whispers emerged from the silence, growing louder with each passing second. They were desperate, pleading voices, overlapping in a cacophony of fear. "Help us… don’t let him in… it’s watching you…" they cried, filling the room with an unearthly presence.

Jake's flashlight flickered ominously. The bathroom door swung open, revealing a shadowy figure with a featureless face and elongated fingers reaching out. The whispers turned into agonizing screams, reverberating through the walls and into Jake's very soul.

Jake stumbled backward, his reflection in the mirror unmoving, staring back at him with eyes that seemed to hold a silent scream. A voice, deep and guttural, whispered behind him, sending shivers down his spine. "You shouldn’t have come here."

The hotel manager arrived to find Jake missing, the front desk abandoned. The security footage showed him entering Room 404, but he never emerged. The inn stood silent, its secrets buried within the whispers of Room 404.