“I Found a Journal With Disturbing Entries in My Hotel.”

By R0B0-M3m3s, Likemea, and BlueStarOmega

I don’t know where to start, honestly. Sure, people say to start from the beginning, but, in a situation like this one, where there is no definite place to start? where no matter how fantastical this story may be, people just won’t believe it. That’s not the point here, believe this story or not, it happened. I’ll just try my best, I guess.

 

My family and I went to Nuremberg, you know? The city where speed limits are completely nonexistent. We were there to visit family and conveniently the hotel was close to a church, which we would attend that week for Christmas. I’m not religious by any means, sure, I was raised to believe in a God. We stayed in a very old castle-like hotel that looked to be made in the 1800s, but looks can be deceiving, it was very modern from the inside. Once we got into our room, me and my little brother started jumping on the couch, our mother scolding us.

 

“sich verhalten!” (Behave in German)

 

“I don’t understand why you have to speak to us in German.” I retorted

“Look, honey, it’s important for you guys to never lose tradition, you’ll have an advantage in the real world, you’ll know when you grow up.” I rolled my eyes.

 

Little did my mother know, I would have a different view on what the real world looks like.

 

My parents had gone to the spa room and then would eat dinner later in a fancy part of the hotel, as it was “Lover’s Night” (ugh). My little brother and I were still awake, I pulled out my laptop to play some Armored Patrol on Roblox. While my little “Bother” recreated “Infinity War” with his action figures. Honestly he couldn’t bother me tonight, I was so excited to get Robux for Christmas, and finally get that Dominus NicsterV uses.

 

I was in a middle of an aerial dogfight, trying to capture a base, when my brother yelled at me from under the bed.

 

“Jeremy, come look!” He exclaimed.

 

“Not now, Ike, I’m in the middle of something.” I said, not taking my eyes off the screen.

 

Ike pulled my arm, causing me to let go of the mouse, the enemy hit me with their rocket, causing me to go “oof”.

 

“What the heck bro!? I almost had him! What could be so important, that it could not wait?”

 

“There’s a journal stuck under the bed.”

“What? Let me see,” I said, while getting off the bed. I crawled under, turned on the light on my phone. He was right, there was a bound leather journal stuck in one of the bed frame slats. I pulled it out, slid out from under the bed. There were initials in the bottom corner of the journal that read “J.M”.

 

“You shouldn't open that Jeremy it’s not yours.”

 

“I’m only going to see if there is anything that will help me figure out who it belongs to.”

I opened the journal, the words were in German, luckily I was able read German pretty okay. Thanks mom, I guess.

 

I read the first entry.

 

3/18/2017

''Just got a journal today, I’m really excited to write down my adventures on Roblox. First I’ll start by seeing if these John Doe Rumours are real.''

 

The first entry sort of humored me, obviously he must’ve been younger if he thinks the John Doe thing was real. I’m 16 now, so I estimated 12 years old, handwriting also helped me deduce his age. I kept reading through the journal and something struck me as sad, he seemed to have been bullied. I read this entry from April.

4/3/2017

''I wish Gunther would stop bothering me, he took my lunch today. I wish I could do something. That won’t stop me though, today I appeared in a InquisitorMaster video! (Even though it was for 10 seconds.)''

 

The sadness that I was feeling would gradually turn into a chill down my spine as I read some of the following entries.

 

10/31/2018

''I went as my Roblox character today for halloween, I was so excited and got a lot of candy. Too bad Gunther got a hold of it, him and his ginger sidekick. He made fun of my costume, “Oh look, it’s Lil Pump and Kanye West,” He pushed me and my little brother, I couldn’t get up and my little brother began to cry. I wish Gunther entered those woods and would get torn apart by some animal...''

 

That last part was a bit too much, nearly all of the entries were about Gunther. The journal became more about Gunther than Roblox. November was mostly the same thing, Gunther would stuff him in a locker, steal his lunch, same thing over and over again. The only thing new was that he met a user named “Richard Roe”. But December, those entries started to become hard to read, not handwriting wise, more emotionally, especially since some of the words seemed to be smeared by tears.

 

12/1/2017

''I guess it’s another year, my family keeps fighting, I’ll be moving with my mother soon. I can’t handle it anymore. I want to protect my brother from my abusive father, but I am sure it’s going to be another sad Christmas… There’s been another tragic nightmare.''

 

12/5/2017

Today was Krampusnacht, and I got whipped by Gunther who was disguised as Krampus...My brother cried to sleep, I wish he would sleep in peace one day...

 

I couldn’t make it through that entry without tearing up a bit. I wished I had closed that journal right then and there, because the next entries seemed to come from a horror film. But curiosity got the better of me.

 

12/20/17

''My mother made us move to  a hotel for now, it's’ pretty nice actually, I am really loving the fast WiFi. I was on Roblox today and met someone named “Krampus” on the Normal Elevator. He looked half man and half goat. He had long horns protruding from his head.''

 

“I really like your Krampus avatar,” But the he didn’t respond.

 

(As a side note, I didn’t really know what Krampus was in english, but it turns out, he is the opposite of Santa Claus. Instead of giving out gifts, he whips you with tree branches if you’re naughty)

 

“He still bothers you doesn’t he, little one?” Krampus said.

“Who?” I asked.

“Gunther of course,” The text bubble appeared, “Wouldn't you like to see some chaos in his life?”

“I guess.”

(Entry abruptly ends here for some reason.)

 

12/24/17

''I HAD ENOUGH! I want him dead, Gunther has to pay. I had finally gotten enough money to get my little brother a Robux giftcard, but stupid Gunther took them from me and ripped it apart, saying Roblox is for babies. I don’t how he found me, but I don’t care, as long as he leaves my brother alone.''

(3:00 am)

''Santa never came, he never comes, why do I even bother in believing? I got on Roblox to meet with Krampus.''

(I removed the name of the game for good reason.)

''“Ah, yes, the negotiator. Jurgan,” I was surprised he knew my name. “Have you thought about my offer?”''

“Yes,” I typed, “Please, please, get rid of him.”

“In order to gain something, you must lose something in return.” Krampus typed.

''“My brother and I want peace and quiet. With Gunther gone.”''

“Wise words are they?”

 

''We teleported to a game that said ‘Gunther’s House’, I thought this was a friend from school who had beef with Gunther and made this game. Once it loaded I followed Krampus through the house, it was very detailed. Too detailed…''

 

(At this point my hands were sweaty, I had no idea what might happened, but I had to keep reading, I needed to know how the journal ended up under the bed.)

 

''We entered what looked like a bedroom, and there was an npc sleeping. Krampus krept up to him, his long tongue hovering over his face. I realized, it had a slight resemblance to Gunther. I could hear a slow piano tune faintly in the background, and a voice, a deep guttural voice singing.''

 

''“Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells, seem to say… Tear them away. Krampus is here, bringing them fear, to Nidhogg to feast, the weak and the lost. ”''

 

''Krampus then grabbed a stick and started hitting Gunther, his health was being lost quickly. Gunther’s face became flooded with fear. Krampus grabbed him by the neck and leg, and pulled him apart a loud yell was heard through my monitor. This yell felt too real, like it was happening in real time. I’ve never anything like it, not even in the movies they could recreate this yell.''

 

''“His chaos for your peace Jurgan. I paid my end now it’s time to pay yours.”''

 

''The screen froze, I couldn't move the mouse. Then Krampus walked toward the screen, I tried shutting of my computer, but he kept walking forward, then all of the sudden… The screen went black, there was green text on the screen that said, “Debts are always paid.”''

 

''My mother isn’t here, my brother is awake, I can hear it faintly, clomp, clomp, clomp. Right outside the window. I have to get him out, I will hide this journal if I don’t make it out alive.''

 

It just ends there, there was obvious desperation, as the words started to become more elongated. I wonder what happened?

 

“Ike, can you stay here for a bit? I have to go somewhere.” I said

“Sure thing.” Ike said

“Actually, on second thought, come with me.”

We were going to take the elevator, but there was maintenance going on. We went down the stairs, when we were stopped.

“Jurgan?” A man said, it was a janitor. A chubby old guy with a long white beard and glasses. When I turned around, “Oh, I’m sorry I thought you were someone else.”

“Excuse me, you knew someone named Jurgen?” I asked. When I mentioned Jurgen, his face became somber. “I need to know.”

“Poor child, he was just a lost soul who never had loving parents, hatred and pain led him to suffering.”

We followed him near a storage room where he told us to wait. He came back with a newspaper article. Boy in Asylum After Causing His Brother’s Coma.

 

“I was there, he ran out of the room screaming, thinking that someone was out to get him. He dragged his brother by the arm, down the stairs where he tripped. Causing his brother a serious brain injury and falling into that coma. He kept yelling a name, Krampus. Of course no one believed him. He was sent off to a psych ward.”

 

That night I sat by the window sill, thinking.

 

“He was just lost a soul.”

 

As I looked up at the stars I realized, I didn’t want those Robux anymore, nor do I want his story to end there.

 

Epilogue
Why, why, am I not dead?

That same tragic nightmare keeps returning.

''I still hear the voice of torment, the voice of regret. The amalgamation of the two, creating the voice suffering.''

“Shut up!”

But they won’t stop, I want to run, escape, but I guess ‘they’ were smart enough to put me in a padded cell, complemented with a straitjacket.

“There is someone here to see you,” a voice different from mine said.

“Do not be afraid, I am the cure,” a man said, “Let me introduce myself as Ricky, Ricky Goldsworth”