Hotel La Casona de Cajamarca looms like a specter of colonial grandeur, its walls steeped in whispered secrets and shadowy figures that flicker in the candlelight of the dining area, forever caught between the threads of time. Guests often find themselves wrapped in an icy embrace as sudden chills sweep through empty halls, where the soft murmur of conversations echoes from ghostly mouths long silenced, drawing them deeper into the hotels chilling embrace. Those who dare to linger often leave with more than just memories, haunted by the unsettling feeling that they are never truly alone, watched by the very spirits that once called this place home.

Within the crumbling walls of Hotel El Portal del Marques, time seems to have tangled itself in a web of whispers and shadows, where the air hangs heavy with history and the chill of unseen presences. Guests wander the dimly lit hallways, their breaths catching in their throats as muted footsteps echo around them, the faint rustle of colonial garments brushing against the past-a reminder that some spirits are reluctant to leave their earthly ties behind. They say the cold spots that graze the skin like icy fingers are harbingers of the lingerers, and those who dare to sleep here often awaken to find not just dreams haunting their slumber, but spectral figures gazing mournfully from the corners, eternally caught between worlds.

In the dimly lit corridors of Hotel Santa Rosa, shadows cling to the walls like forgotten secrets, while the air tingles with the electric whispers of restless spirits. Guests have reported the flicker of lights that dance in chaotic rhythm, doors groaning open and slamming shut as though possessed by an unseen force, and the chilling figure of a woman in white gliding through the gloom, her mournful gaze piercing the veil between the living and the dead. Those who linger too long within its haunted embrace often find that the hotel, with its sinister charm, does not welcome all who knock on its weary doors.