Hotel Mar Azul looms against the desolate Antofagasta skyline, its faded grandeur whispering secrets of a bygone era, where shadows coil like serpents in the dimly lit hallways. Guests often find their sleep broken by enigmatic flickers of light seeping through their windows, accompanied by hushed voices that seem to beckon from the darkened corners, leaving an icy finger tracing the spine of all who dare to linger too long. Those who finish their stay speak in hushed tones of an unseen presence that wraps itself around them like a fog-an uninvited guest that never truly leaves.

Cabanas del Mar stood like a weary sentinel against the relentless waves of the Pacific, its weathered beams steeped in the salt-and-sorrow of countless maritime tragedies that whispered through its corridors. At night, the air thickened with the echoes of laughter-a cruel, mocking sound that danced from empty rooms to the moonlit beach, where ghostly figures flickered like candlelight in a tempest. Guests who dared stay too long found themselves entranced by the fraying fabric of reality, haunted not just by whispers, but by the chilling certainty that they were not alone; something ancient and hungry lingered just beyond the shadows, waiting to reclaim its lost souls.

Hotel Atacama loomed against the stark Antofagasta skyline, its crumbling facade a reluctant witness to decades of whispered secrets and lingering shadows. Guests often reported an icy breath curling around them in the dead of night, while the mirrors-those sinister portals-reflected not just their own ashen faces, but the ghostly imprints of those who had suffered within its walls, etched in sorrow and solitude. As the echoes of unexplained footsteps danced through the hallways, many found themselves waking to the oppressive stillness, only to feel the watchful gaze of an unseen presence lurking just beyond the veil of reality.