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.

As I handed over the keycards, I added with an encouraging smile, “Good luck! You’ve got this! I believe in you!”

Some of the players, who were trembling moments ago, froze for a second at my words. Then, they glanced down at their keycards, straightened up, and marched inside with the determined look of someone heading to their doom.

Under my direction, the chaotic crowd at the hotel entrance quickly turned into an orderly line.

The boss seemed impressed. He came over and handed me a silver necklace with a delicate wing-shaped charm.

“When your shift is over, press the wing down. It’ll lock into place, and you can return to the real world. Lift the wing up, and you’ll be back on the job. It automatically tracks your hours, so no skipping shifts or you’ll be in trouble.”

I turned the necklace over in my hands. It was actually kind of cute.

Unable to resist, I asked, “Can I still stay in touch with the outside world while I’m working?”

After all, I didn’t know a single soul here. Without someone to chat with or a way to pass the time, it’d be unbearably boring.

He took my phone and fiddled with it, attaching some kind of blood-red lightning icon to the screen.

Suddenly, my previously disconnected phone lit up and it was connected to my home Wi-Fi.

“Players can’t usually contact the outside world, but you’re one of us now. So, you don’t have to risk your life to clear the game instance, and you’ve got some perks, like this little backdoor access.”

This job was amazing.

I was ready to stay in this role until I grew old and gray.

After the boss left, I settled into my usual routine of sneaking in some downtime.

The front desk job was usually pretty dull. After the morning rush, only a handful of people trickled in throughout the day.

The hotel had surveillance cameras in the hallways, but unfortunately, the boss-controlled rooms were off-limits to monitoring. I couldn’t see what was happening inside, but the occasional bloodcurdling screams from the back told me plenty.

Every now and then, a player would stumble out of a room, drenched in blood and visibly shaken. Just as they’d start to feel a shred of relief, crimson tentacles would shoot out from another room and drag them right back in.

While all this chaos unfolded, I got a message from my mom.

“Zoe, it’s been almost three months since you graduated. Have you found a job yet?”

I was in a great mood and ready to share the good news, but then her next message came, “If you don’t find work soon, you can go sleep on the streets. I’m done taking care of you!”

My excitement took a nosedive.

I replied, “Mom, I found a job. I’m working as a hotel receptionist.”

Her response came quickly: “Really? No way. You just happened to find a job the second I asked? Are you making this up? With your degree, what decent company would hire you? A receptionist? That sounds like a scam.”

Her words felt like a punch to the gut.

Feeling frustrated, I snapped back, “Believe it or not, someone did hire me. Even if you think your daughter’s nothing more than a bottom feeder, I’m a bottom feeder who knows how to make her own way!”

That last part must’ve hit a nerve because her next message came in hotter and angrier.

She sent me over a dozen one-minute voice messages back-to-back.

Not wanting to argue, I flipped my phone face down on the desk.

My mom had always been good to me, but she had this unshakable belief that I couldn’t do anything right. Every word felt like a jab as if I were still a helpless child who couldn’t survive without her.

I barely had time to stew in those feelings before the resonant toll of a bell snapped me out of it.

It was 5 p.m. The game instance had ended for the day.

Which meant it was time for room inspections.

By the time players staggered out of the hotel, very few were still in one piece. Blood and severed limbs littered the floor in their wake.

To my disbelief, someone even exclaimed, “I made it out alive! Oh my God, I’m so lucky!”

With my heart pounding, I carefully navigated around the carnage and made my way to the elevator, riding it up to the second floor.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Anyone there? Front desk here for room inspections,” I called out.

Silence.

Guessing that the game boss had already left the room, I used my keycard to unlock the door.

But the moment it swung open, a little girl’s body suddenly toppled toward me.

Her nose was crooked, her mouth twisted, her tongue hanging unnaturally long. Her face was smeared with blood.

I stood frozen.

After a long, awkward minute, she finally spoke.

“Am I not scary? Why didn’t you scream?”

I sighed, pulled out a pack of wet wipes, and gently cleaned her face. Her actual features gradually emerged, looking far less horrifying than before.

"Those female ghosts in horror movies don’t usually have canine teeth like yours. You’re actually kind of cute," I said as I untied the rope around her and helped her down, brushing the dust off her clothes.

Her expression darkened at my words.

"Cute? No way. I won’t allow you to call me that."

I thought, “Well, it’s my mouth—I’ll say whatever I want.”

Before I could respond, she turned around, and my breath caught in my throat.

On her back was... another head.

At least, that was what I thought at first.

The face on it was smiling at me.

But when I took a closer look, I realized it wasn’t a head at all. It was a massive lump, nearly half the size of her real head, with eyes and a nose drawn on it. She had even styled a small tuft of hair, tying it up and letting it fall around the “face.”

That was why I’d mistaken it for another head at first glance.

Her smug voice came from behind me.

“Well? Are you scared now? Bet you won’t say anything like that again!”

“Hey, what are you—” she started as I pulled a bow out of my pocket and clipped it onto the little tuft of hair on the lump.

She froze for a moment before walking over to the mirror, tilting her head back to look at the lump on her back.

"Now it’s not just cute," I said with a grin. "It’s even prettier."

Her face flushed red in an instant.

“R-Really? Everyone says my lump is ugly, that I’m a monster, and no matter how many times I try to cut it off, it won’t go away.”

I looked closer and noticed the lump was covered in scars, some deep, some shallow, with dried blood crusted over.

“Of course not. If you can’t get rid of it, then why not change how you see it? Think of it as a gift from above—something that makes you special and different from everyone else.”

She stared at me for a moment before suddenly throwing herself at my legs, clinging to me without saying a word.

I realized then just how small she was—barely tall enough to reach my thighs.

What I didn’t know at the time was that elsewhere, invisible to me, the live chat was exploding.

“Whoa, I’ve never seen such a shy game boss before.”

“Why isn’t she using her lump to attack? Didn’t the last front desk clerk die because of that thing?”

“Honestly, I don’t even understand how this new receptionist managed to call that lump ‘cute.’ Maybe that’s why she’s still alive?”

…

I smiled down at her. “Alright, time for me to check your room.”

She nodded obediently and trailed closely behind me.

Room inspections were usually simple. The main tasks were checking for damage and running the robotic vacuum to clean the floors.

But what I saw this time… was complete devastation.

The room was a complete wreck. Tables and chairs were shattered, windows smashed, and even the support beams had crumbled!

I glanced back at her, stunned. Was this game boss really that destructive?

Noticing my look, she tilted her head innocently.

“What’s wrong, Miss?”

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “Nothing. Just… could you help me clean this up a little? We’ve got more players coming tomorrow.”

She nodded enthusiastically, grabbed a tiny broom, and quickly handed it to me. Then, without hesitation, she walked over to the collapsed support beam, which was easily several times her size, lifted it with one hand, and casually tossed it out the window.

As I watched it all unfold, I could only mutter, “You know, throwing things out of windows is technically illegal…”

…

With her help, we finished tidying up in no time. The once chaotic room now looked spotless and refreshed.

I nodded in satisfaction. “I’m off to check the next room, Ruby.”

Since she hadn’t told me her name, I decided to call her Ruby, and thankfully, she didn’t seem to mind.

She waved cheerfully. “Bye, Miss! Come back soon, okay?”

I headed to the next door and knocked.

This time, the game boss was an elderly woman who greeted me with a warm smile. “Ah, young lady, you must be the new front desk clerk the boss told me about. You’re really lovely.”

“You’re lovely too, ma’am,” I replied sweetly.

As I stepped inside, I found the room neat and cozy, bathed in soft, warm light. Even the litter box on the floor was freshly cleaned and filled with new litter, exuding a light, pleasant scent.

It looked like this inspection would be an easy one.