Story 23
The Woman Who Came to the Love Hotel
I used to work part-time at the front desk of a love hotel.
Actually, I’d been doing it since I was a student—so altogether, around eight years.
There were lots of strange customers, but the creepiest one of all was a woman who came alone every time.
I mean, nobody comes to a love hotel alone.
On very rare occasions, a businessman-looking middle-aged man might come by himself, but those people were normal—they used it like a cheap business hotel while traveling. That’s what the owner said.
It was inexpensive, and though our hotel was in the countryside, it was close to the highway, so the location was convenient.
But that woman who came alone every time—she was different.
There was something clearly wrong about her.
The place itself was surrounded by nothing but other love hotels near a highway entrance—no houses anywhere. There were a bunch of trucking companies around, but that’s it.
Yet somehow, this woman always came on foot.
We had security cameras all over—the entrances, the parking lot—so we could see how customers arrived and left.
But that woman never parked a car, never called a taxi. There weren’t any buses or train stations nearby either.
Like I said, there weren’t any homes around.
One of the older female employees even said she once saw the woman walking, alone, about a kilometer away from the hotel, trudging along the road.
So, yeah—she was definitely walking the whole way.
Her outfit was creepy, too.
She always wore this faded, yellowish-white floral dress.
The neckline was pretty low, but there was nothing sexy about it—her chest bones stuck out sharply, she was that thin.
There was this indescribable sense of unease that radiated from her.
Then one day—
She showed up holding a kitchen knife in her hand.
There was a bit of dried, dark reddish stuff stuck to the blade.
The moment I screamed, the owner rushed out and immediately called the police.
Everyone started whispering the next day, saying she must’ve killed someone.
But apparently, that wasn’t the case.
The police came by later to ask about what had happened that day, and that’s when they told us:
The woman had been carving her ex-husband’s name all over her body.
With that same knife.
Over and over, in tiny letters.
That’s why the knife was stained—just a little.
