Back in their room, the girls surrounded Swarali, who now lay on the bed, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow. Prajwal gently placed a warm cloth on her forehead, her eyes filled with worry.
"What happened to her?" Rutuja whispered.
"She's unconscious… but something's wrong," Swara said, watching the rise and fall of Swarali's chest. "It's like she's trapped inside her own body."
"Trapped by what?" Akshara asked. "That voice? That thing?"
"No," Akshada said quietly. "It's not just some random ghost. It's something… ancient. I saw something in that room. A portrait. A woman in white. She looked… angry. And broken."
Everyone turned toward her.
"She was watching us," Akshada continued. "Her eyes followed us."
"Who was she?" Khushi asked.
"I don't know. But we need to find out," Prajwal said firmly.
They all nodded, knowing that whatever had taken hold of Swarali was more than just a ghost story. This was something much darker. Something connected to the hotel. To Shimla itself.
---
The next morning, they met an old caretaker near the hotel's back entrance. A hunched man with silver hair and wise eyes, he seemed startled to see so many girls at once.
"You shouldn't be here," he murmured. "Especially not in that room."
Prajwal stepped forward. "What happened in Room 309?"
The old man looked around, as if making sure no one was listening. Then he spoke in a hushed tone.
"Years ago, this hotel was a palace. Owned by a wealthy British officer and his wife, Eleanor Winters. She was beautiful… and cursed. Locals believed she was a witch. One night, her husband disappeared. They say she went mad. Locked herself in Room 309 and never came out."
"Did she die there?" Apurva asked.
He nodded slowly. "They found her body a week later. She had written something on the walls in blood."
"What?" Swara asked.
The old man's voice dropped to a whisper. "He left me. So I'll never let anyone leave again."
The girls exchanged terrified glances.
"She was buried… but the room was sealed. Until recently. That room shouldn't have been opened."
"But Swarali—" Prajwal started, but the old man raised a hand.
"She's been marked."
"What do you mean?"
"She entered the room. Now, Eleanor knows her. She's chosen her. If you stay… she'll come for the rest of you too."
---
That night, the girls stayed close together in one room. They tried not to sleep. The wind howled outside, rattling the windows, and the electricity flickered again.
Suddenly, Anushka sat up.
"Did you hear that?"
Everyone froze.
A soft lullaby echoed through the hallway outside.
"Hush little baby, don't say a word…"
"Stop it, that's not funny," Srushti said.
"I didn't say it," Anushka replied, her voice shaking.
They crept toward the door. Prajwal opened it slowly.
There was no one there… but at the end of the corridor stood a woman. Pale, long black hair, white gown stained with blood.
Eleanor Winters.
She pointed directly at them.
Then she vanished.
The door slammed shut.
---
The next day, the girls gathered outside the hotel lobby. Their bags were packed.
"We're leaving," Prajwal said.
"But the trip isn't over," Akshara protested.
"Exactly," Swara added. "If we leave early, something might follow us back."
"We need to end this here," Akshada said. "Find her grave. Free her."
They turned to the caretaker, who gave them a slow nod.
"You want to end the curse?" he said. "Then you'll have to visit the chapel ruins in the forest. That's where she's buried. But be careful… she doesn't want peace. She wants revenge."
---