Check in. Never check out.

🏡 The Setup: A Quiet Little Bed & Breakfast

It wasn’t fancy.
Just a cosy countryside inn - white picket fence, wildflowers, creaky floorboards, too much floral wallpaper.

“Charming,” people called it.
“Hidden gem.”

Isolated.
Cheap.

Exactly the kind of place you stumble into when your car breaks down at the wrong mile marker.

📓 The Guestbook

Old-school vibes meant no online booking.
No fancy check-in apps.
Just one battered leather guestbook sitting proudly on the front desk.

Visitors were asked - sweetly - to sign it.

• Name

• Hometown

• Date of stay

Normal.
Quaint.
Charming.

Until one woman, Tessa, signed it - 
And decided to flip back through the pages while waiting for her tea.

What she found?

Wasn’t charming.

🧩 The Pattern

• Names she vaguely recognized from news alerts

• Hometowns just too familiar

• Handwriting that seemed... unnatural

And dates that never moved forward.
Always stopped.

Last entry: months ago.
Next page?
Fresh new ink.

🛑 When She Googled Them...

Every name she checked?
Missing persons.
From towns nearby.

Dates matching the last time they were seen alive.

Young travellers.
Couples.
Families.
Gone.

And no media coverage ever mentioned where they were staying last.

🚪 Then Came the Knock

Late that night, as Tessa debated sneaking out without paying,
someone knocked on her door.

Soft.
Rhythmic.
Almost... inviting.

She froze.

Another knock.
And a voice.

"You forgot to sign out."

📓 What Happened Next?

Her room was found empty the next morning.
Bags packed.
Car keys on the nightstand.

The guestbook sat open on the front desk.

New ink.
Fresh page.

Tessa R.
Hometown: Brighton.
Date: May 4th.
No checkout time listed.

🖤 Moral of the story?

Always trust your gut.
If the guestbook feels heavy when you touch it,
you’re not the first to hesitate.
And you won’t be the last.

🕯️ Would you stay in a place that still uses a paper guestbook?
Or would you camp in the woods with the demons instead?

Drop your scream level below, babe 🖤