Room Number 9

On the remote outskirts of that old city surrounded by the dense Talghaf forests, the Hotel Al-Sarab stands like a forgotten skeleton dating back a century. Its dark marble walls whisper the details of stories folded away by time, and its high ceilings bear witness to memories that do not fade easily. In that place, where fog permanently cloaks the exterior of the building, there was a long corridor on the third floor that none of the staff set foot in except out of urgent need. A corridor that seemed to swallow the light and extended with heavy steps toward the final door: a door bearing a rust-stained brass plate crudely engraved with: "Room Number 9".

That room was not merely an enclosed space containing dusty furniture or worn-out sofas; it represented an intractable enigma that everyone had failed to explain. Its complete sealing dates back forty years, specifically after the mysterious tragedy that claimed the controversial archaeologist Dr. Samer. He had rented the room to research rare historical documents, but he vanished completely without leaving behind anything except torn notebooks stained with black ink. Since that night, the room has been sealed with thick iron locks, and strict instructions have been issued by the hotel management forbidding anyone from approaching it, after guests repeatedly reported faint whispering sounds and strange movements coming from behind its door at exactly three o'clock in the morning.