I Became a Receptionist in a Haunted Hotel

I was the sole front desk clerk at a haunted hotel.

Welcoming players, checking in on the bosses’ quarters, and slacking off a bit were all part of the job.

At least, that was what I thought.

It turned out my days were far from ordinary.

A blood-drenched little girl in a tattered red dress kept ringing the service bell. Her eerie voice echoed, “Miss, why didn’t you come play with me?”

A creepy black cat with glowing eyes wouldn’t stop meowing and rubbing against my legs.

And then there was the old woman with claws like knives, cheerfully knitting me a sweater… out of players’ skin.

One day, I took a day off to care for my sick mother.

That was my biggest mistake.

The entire game instance erupted in chaos.

Bosses interrogated players, demanding to know where their precious front desk clerk had gone.

“Did she abandon us? Is she never coming back?”

I ran. They chased. But no matter how fast I fled, their grip on me only tightened.

In the end, escape wasn’t an option.

One moment, I was at a job fair arguing with HR over a measly $600 monthly salary.

The next, I found myself pulled into a haunted hotel's terrifying game instance scenario.

Everyone around me looked pale and shaken, their bodies trembling.

...

“I’m doomed! How did I end up here? I’m going to die!” someone wailed.

I squeezed into the crowd, moving toward the door along with everyone else. Still trying to figure out what was going on, my eyes caught a bold notice taped to the glass door:

"Front Desk Clerk Wanted. Meals and accommodation provided, generous benefits, salary negotiable. If interested, call 135-1234-5678"

My eyes lit up. Without a second thought, I dialed the number.

After haggling with the boss over the phone for barely half a minute, a man rushed down the hallway toward me.

He wore a crisp white shirt and black slacks, his figure clean and sharp.

Standing in the crowd, I waved at him. He spotted me, pulled me out of the group, and led me to the back office.

“So, you’re the one here for the interview, right? Let’s talk about your ideal salary.”

I held up eight fingers.

Although my dream salary had always been $1,000, I knew front desk jobs didn’t pay much. I figured $800 was already pretty decent.

To my shock, he said, “$8,000, right? Done.”

My jaw practically hit the floor.

Whoa, were all owners of these haunted hotels really this generous?

He continued, “You’ll clock in every day at 8 AM, and the game instance wraps up around 5 PM. However, you’ll need to spend two hours afterward inspecting the rooms and tidying up, so you’ll finish at 7 PM. Does that work for you?”

My eyes sparkled.

This job paid insanely well and wasn’t even that exhausting. It was practically a dream come true.

But there was one concern:

“Does your haunted game currency work in the real world? There is no risk of devaluation, right?”

The man nodded.

“Don’t worry. Our system is connected to Universal Banking. Shadow Coins have a one-to-one exchange rate with regular currency, and transfers are instant.”

I asked, “If this job is so good, why isn’t there a line of people fighting for it? How did I end up being the one to land it?”

Years of dealing with pushy HR teams had drained my confidence.

The boss sighed deeply.

“Ah, the players are fine. It’s the game bosses who are tough to deal with.”

He added, “The hardest part is the nightly room inspections… I’ve told them countless times to treat staff with a little kindness, but…”

He winced, trailing off. “Anyway, young lady, you’ll be on a trial period first. And if you lose a limb or two, we’ll definitely compensate you.”

His words sent a chill down my spine.

But then I thought, “Isn’t every job tough? Doesn’t every job come with its own risks? Nobody gets a high salary by lying around doing nothing.”

With renewed determination, I nodded firmly, pinned on my name badge, and stepped into my new role.

Today was officially my first day on the job.

I saw a crowd of players completely blocking the hotel entrance.

Grabbing a megaphone, I called out, “Everyone, quiet down! Let’s line up and enter one at a time. No pushing.”

The megaphone’s volume drowned out their chatter, but faint murmurs of protest still emerged, “I’m not going! I’m not stepping into this creepy place. Who wants to walk straight to their own death?”

I responded gently, “You’re already here, so what’s the point of resisting? Think of it as a one-day tour of the afterlife. Enjoy the sights. It’ll all be over before you know it.”

My words seemed to stun them into silence. One by one, they shut their mouths.

I instructed them to line up in order of arrival, keeping a meter apart to prevent crowding. Then, at the front desk, I began processing each guest, scanning their faces and recording their information one by one.