Day 3 - The Last Visitor

The last visitor

Tara had always believed that old houses breathe. Their walls absorb secrets, their staircases whisper, and their doors never truly forget the ones who pass through. As a researcher of forgotten histories, she is drawn to places where silence carries weight, where absence feels louder than presence.

From the beginning the air feels different, as though every corner watches her. Names appear carved where no hand could have reached. The walls seem to murmur with voices that no longer belong to the living. The floorboards press heavy under her feet, as though holding their breath in fear of what might awaken. At night, she hears footsteps in the corridor though her eyes see nothing. The registers she studies reveal a chilling truth, some visitors never checked out. Some doors do not open to safety, only to shadow.

In the night, as midnight approaches, Tara realizes the guesthouse is not merely haunted by memory. It is alive, hungry, waiting. The past does not rest here; it repeats itself, drawing in those who dare to listen too closely. Rooms seem to pulse with longing, keys turn by themselves, and unseen eyes follow her every move. Something inside the house wants one more story, one more soul.

But Tara is not a woman who bends easily. Though fear rises like a tide, she feels another strength stir within her. A clarity sharpens her mind, a soundless bell ringing inside her chest. She begins to understand that the house is not only a keeper of tragedies but also a mirror of her own inner shadows. The memories it tries to drown her in reflect the unspoken weight she has carried since her childhood, moments she buried deep within herself.

When dawn finally comes, Tara steps outside changed. The house behind her still stands, still waiting, but its hunger no longer claims her. She carries with her not only the forgotten names etched in its walls but also the realization that fear, when faced, transforms into strength. Some guests may never leave in body, but she carries their stories forward. And some doors, once opened, remain within us forever.