"BLONDE LIKE HONEY"

Aurora and Max spent the night wide awake, consumed by a sense of unease that seemed to grow with each passing moment. Even back in their suite, the air around them felt heavy, as if the hotel had them in its sights—silent but watchful. Aurora instinctively rested her hands on her belly, a protective gesture. She feared not only for herself but for the little one growing inside her.

"Do you think we should leave?" Aurora asked, breaking the silence. Her voice was low, almost a whisper, as if she didn't want the hotel to hear.

Max sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor. "I've thought about it. But something tells me it wouldn't be that simple. It's as if… as if something won't let us leave until we confront it."

Aurora looked out the window, where the darkness seemed thicker than usual, swallowing the faint moonlight. "So, what do we do now?"

Max sighed and stood, moving closer to her. "We figure out what's happening. There's something here—something that needs to be understood before we can find peace. I won't let it control us."

Aurora nodded, though a shiver ran down her spine. She knew Max was right, but fear gnawed at her insides. "Maybe we should start with the old wing… where everything seems to converge."

Max agreed with a nod. "Tomorrow morning. We'll investigate carefully. I don't want to expose you to anything more tonight. Let's try to get some rest."

A Night of Nightmares

When they finally lay down, Aurora struggled to sleep. When she did, her dreams were strange and fragmented. She found herself walking through the hotel's endless, empty corridors while a female figure lingered in the distance, always just out of reach.

"You don't understand… but you will," said a whispering voice, seemingly from the air around her.

Aurora tried to run, but her feet felt like they were sinking into the floor. The figure moved closer, but never enough to reveal her face. Only her eyes—bright and intense—shone through the darkness.

She woke up gasping, her body drenched in cold sweat. Max was still asleep beside her, his face tense even in rest. She sat up in bed, trembling, and tried to steady her breathing.

"I need to find out what this means," she murmured to herself, deciding she couldn't wait until morning.

A Solitary Search

Not wanting to wake Max, Aurora slipped on a coat and quietly left the suite. The old wing seemed to draw her like a magnet, and despite her fear, she followed the pull toward the shadowed corridors.

Each step echoed through the hotel, amplifying the silence around her. The shadows on the walls seemed to move, almost alive, but Aurora kept going, determined to find answers.

When she reached the old wing, everything was silent, but the air buzzed with an invisible energy. She stopped in front of the door where, the previous night, the whispers had been strongest.

Her hand hovered over the doorknob, hesitant, but some force—or perhaps her own curiosity—pushed her to open it.

The room was as it had been: cold, empty, yet suffused with an oppressive presence. The portrait of the woman still hung on the wall, but something was different this time. Her eyes seemed more alive, almost blinking.

"Who are you?" Aurora asked aloud, her voice trembling.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the whispers returned, filling the room. They weren't just random words this time; they formed phrases.

"Help us…"

"She won't forgive…"

"You need to see…"

Aurora stepped back, her heart pounding. "See what? Who's here?"

Suddenly, the portrait began to change before her eyes. The woman in the painting turned her head, locking eyes with Aurora, and her mouth opened—not to speak, but to unleash a flood of visions.

Aurora saw the same room, decades earlier, filled with people in formal attire, dancing and laughing. But then the scene shifted—the laughter turned to screams, and the woman's figure stood out in the chaos, her eyes burning with fury.

Aurora dropped to her knees, clutching her head as the images overwhelmed her. Tragedy. Injustice. A promise of revenge.

And then it all stopped. The room returned to normal, and the portrait was still again, as if nothing had happened.

Aurora struggled to catch her breath, but before she could leave, she heard footsteps in the hallway. She turned to see Max, his face pale and his eyes wide.

"I knew you wouldn't wait until morning," he said, helping her to her feet. "What did you see?"

Aurora met his gaze, still breathless. "Something terrible happened here, Max. We need to find out who that woman was… and what she wants from us."

Max squeezed her hand tightly. "Then we'll do it. Together."

As they left the room, Aurora couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. The battle was just beginning, and the forces within the hotel wouldn't let go so easily.