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You turn from the woman and rush down the pathway to room 16.
Just before you enter the room you turn to see the woman hobbling after you, her arms outstretched, an unnatural moan coming from her throat. You step into the room and shut the door, turning the deadbolt. When you turn around and survey the room your stomach falls into your shoes.
The bed is covered in blood, red and wet, pooling on the sheets and even running off of them to collect on the carpeted floor. A man lays on the bed, his throat torn out, his eyes unseeing as they stared up at the ceiling. The bathroom door is shut, so you move across to that, attempting to turn the doorknob but finding it locked. On the other side of the door you hear movement, and when you lower yourself to the floor to look under the door you can just see the soles of someone’s shoes.
“Hello?” you call out, trying the doorknob once more. “I work here, let me in,” you add. No answer. “Come on, let em in. Uh, I mean I guess I’m going to have to call the cops or whatever, but this is all fucked, I need to know what happened here.”
Whoever is in the bathroom doesn’t answer you so you need to make a choice.