WHY ROOM 125

ROOM 125: THE STORY

Hundreds of things have passed between these four walls, things you could only imagine, or maybe have seen in your worst nightmares, but it is so strong the weight these memories bring me, I need to tell you to know that I am not the only one who knows what is hidden here.

Let’s start at the beginning. A while ago, between the years 1977 and 1982 many things happened that are difficult to explain, and the most complicated is that all took place in room 125 of the Forea Hotel, which was the most famous in the city for the time. The first thing that happened was the strange homicide of Jimmy Parker and Teresa Jones, a young couple who was passing by and needed to rest alone that night. 6 months later 3 students who came to do a small field investigation disappeared without warning anyone or leave traces, and the last thing people knew about them was that they were staying in room 125, in the Hotel Forea… No, I don’t think that’s a simple coincidence.


One thing is a coincidence, two is an accident, but when three things happen in the same place you know something is not right, and that is exactly what I wanted to tell you. In the year 1980 happened another mystery, something totally out of the question that left terrified those who lived in this city, but for some reason, the news did not leave the area, which I do not explain at all.

I was just a boy at that time, I was about 14 or 15 years old and I wanted to show the world that I was already a man. It was not a secret to those who lived in the area the strange things that were produced in a room of the Forea Hotel. We could only confirm two events, but there were hundreds of rumors and everyone said they had lived strange things just passing in front of the hotel, and those who slept in the surrounding rooms said to hear strange noises, like from another world.


In my group of friends, we were planning the way to sneak inside the room to show that everything was a lie or, if it was true, to confront the beast that was hiding in that room.
I must admit that none of us wanted to go in there, but we were too young and stupid to assume it in front of others and would rather remain silent to be regarded as the coward of the heap. We design everything calmly, preparing for anything that could be presented to us. Our only knowledge of paranormal activities was reduced to what television showed in their films, so we assembled with various objects that in the end did not serve at all.


Some brought wooden stakes, others got bottles of holy water and those of us who worked in the field took care of borrowing a few axes without permission to defend us from whatever was there. A boy brought a silver medallion from his grandmother and me, for my part, brought the gun that dad keeps in the secret drawer of his desk and where he thinks no one has seen it.
We went out on 12/5 at 1:25 a.m. In search of an adventure, and maybe was the stupidest idea we’ve ever had. We had no problems getting into the hotel since after 10.30 pm the watchman and the receptionist went to sleep, and only wake up if they hear the bell. Anyway, we went through the back door, walked down the entrance of the dog and walk in points to reach the stairs of the living room.

We only had to go up the stairs to the 6th floor, and enter once and for all into the room, but there was something in the air that invited us to undo our steps, like an aura that told us that this was not our moment. Too bad we ignored the warnings.
We climbed next to each other, seemingly impatient to reach our destination, but inside praying for someone to come and stop us. I wouldn’t know how long it took to get up, but for times it seemed eternal the way, and when we arrived, we felt that we had not walked anything. We went straight to the room with the number 125 engraved on the wood, we looked for the last time between all and, one after another we went into the room that would take care of everything we could offer.


As soon as we get in, we hear a strange sound, like palpitations. I can’t tell where the sound came from, the only thing I am sure of is that it seemed to be the heartbeat of the room… Like it was a big heart excited about having visitors.
All I know is that when I came back from unconsciousness, around me were all my friends, seemed to sleep on a bed of blood and perhaps I could have believed it, too bad that in the chest, the place where should be their hearts, they had a big hole… I wanted to scream, but I was afraid that whoever did, this would come and finish the job with me, but when I raised my right hand to cover my mouth, I saw that it had a bloody ax in it. Seems crazy, but I was no longer afraid, and now I’m comfortable with this story, my story, the history of room 125 that since that day has become my home and from which I will never go out again, nor you, dear reader.

Look behind you, under your bed, inside the closet, and inside the bathroom; you won’t find anything, but you’ll know I’m watching you, and I like what I see. What I like is the fast pace that beats your heart now, I want to take it out of your chest, and see how it gives its last palpitations in the palm of my hand.
Be careful, and as far as you want don’t look up, I don’t like to be watched.

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