Room 333.

I awaken from a terrifying nightmare. The bedsheets, tangled at my feet. I sighed. I just can't sleep well in this hotel room. My name is Angela Deth. A few days ago, I practically went mad with stress at work. My boss told me to take a vacation. I decided to stay at a hotel in Australia. The hotel's name was Bullet Hotel. I rented room 333. At first I was all up for this vacation thing. But when I got here I got second thoughts. The manager was acting very strange. He kept avoiding some of my questions that I asked him. The hotel looked okay but I still had my doubts.  I got up from my bed and looked at the wall clock. 3.33 a.m. I walked toward the light switch and turned on the lights. I wasn't feeling tired, so I decided to watch TV instead. I sat on a sofa in front of the TV and took the remote. I pushed the 'on' button. Static filled the screen. I groaned. I turned off the TV. The hotel room had a selection of books in it placed on a book shelf. I took out a book and read the title. Oh look, a classic. I put it back. I took out another book and opened it. A piece of paper fell out from the pages. I picked it up. It was a small piece of paper with some words typed onto it. I thought that it must've been a piece of the page. But upon closer inspection, I discovered it was not. I read the words, 'book number 333.' on the paper. I studied it again. Not from the book. I looked at the book shelf. I silently counted the number of books. There were 332. I decided to put this mystery to rest and went to my bed. I sat down, and felt a lump under the mattress. I looked under the mattress and found a black book. '333.' I said to myself. I opened it and read.

PAGE 1

Dear reader,
If you've found this book in the police station, close it immediately. If you've found this in room 333, read on. Listen carefully, valued reader. After reading this book, you must burn it and scatter the ashes in the desert sands outside. Check the door. Is it locked from the outside?

Curiously, I walked toward the door and turned the knob. it was locked from the outside. Puzzled, I tugged on the door. It wouldn't budge. I kept reading.

Locked? I thought so. The window's probably nailed shut. Why don't you check it out. I doubt it's easy to open.

I walked toward the window. Nails were hammered into the frame so it wouldn't budge. I was starting to feel concerned.

Don't panic. This isn't the worst part.

This must be a coincidence.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, this is no coincidence. Yes, it's weird, but read on.

PAGE 2

This room you're in is a bad place. Look around. There are 333 books in this room, 333 cracks in the window, 333 numbers in this book and 333 people were murdered here.

I jumped at the last line. Murdered?

You have to get out of here. Fast. You may be HIS next victim. I was a survivor of HIS that escaped this room. But it was hard. I've left behind this book to ensure that the next occupant survives. First of all, I left behind a can of hairspray and a lighter under the mattress. Arm yourself against HIM. I also left a cro-bar under the fridge. Get it, and pry the door or window open. The door is easy to pry open but it'll take a while for you to find the exit. I advise you to go through the window.

I went toward the mattress and pulled out the hairspray and lighter. Then I walked toward the fridge and took the cro-bar. I tried prying the window open.

Be careful not to make any noise. HE might hear you.

The window flew open. and so did the door. The manager stood in the door way holding a knife. 'Oh no. You're not getting away alive.' He growled. He lunged forward. I leaped out the window, but the manager got a grip on my leg. 'The only way you're getting out is in a body bag!' He said. I struggled to free my leg from his grip. I took out the hairspray and the lighter. I held the lighter in front of the hairspray nozzle. I lit the lighter and pushed down on the hairspray nozzle. The spray caught fire from the lighter and the can became a flamethrower. I burned his hand. He yelled in pain. He let go of my leg. I took the opportunity to run away from the room. I had the book in my hand. A police car stopped by the road. I stopped it and climbed into the car. I told the policeman about the manager. He told me to relax and let him handle the matter. I was relieved until I read the next line in the book.

PAGE 3

If you think HE is the manager, you're wrong. HE is the policeman.

END.