The Creggan Court Hotel looms like a specter over Derry, its once-elegant corridors now steeped in an unsettling chill that gnaws at the soul. Whispers of anguished voices drift through the air, swirling like leaves caught in an endless autumn breeze, while shadows, darker than the very fabric of night, flit just beyond the corner of your eye, promising that the past is never truly buried. Guests often leave with a sense of dread so palpable, they swear they can still hear the echo of hollow laughter trailing behind them as they flee the malevolent embrace of the hotel.

The Tower Hotel loomed like a sentry over Derry, its weathered stones whispering secrets of a time long past, shadows dancing in the corners where the flickering light dared not tread. Eerie echoes of laughter and distant cries reverberated through the aged hallways, while unseen eyes seemed to watch from the peeling wallpaper, unnervingly aware of every breath taken in its forsaken rooms. Guests often found themselves ensnared in an unsettling embrace, awakening to the chilling sensation of cold fingers brushing their cheeks, a silent promise that the hotel was never truly empty, and not everyone who checked in intended to check out.

The Everglades Hotel looms at the edge of Derry like a forgotten relic, its faded grandeur suffocating beneath the weight of whispers and shadowy sighs. Guests, drawn to its eerie charm, often find themselves ensnared by frigid cold spots where unseen hands reach out, their fingers brushing against flesh with a chilling intimacy; the flickering lights seem to dance to a melody only the dead can hear. Many leave with a sense of unease, for in this brooding sanctuary of the past, the lingering specters remind them that some doors, once opened, can never truly be closed.