Dear Reader,
I am writing this letter from the Hotel Morpheus, in the knowledge that it will probably be destroyed long before it is ever read. If by some act of great fortunate you are reading this, then they have made a mistake and you got lucky. I may never know what caused these terrors or what ill I must have performed in a previous existence to cause such apparitions to haunt me, but I feel it is my duty to record what I have seen. If you too intend to stay here, then you must keep reading, for what I am about to tell you may save your life or that of someone close to you. It would surely be better for you to spend a night walking the city streets than to remain in this building. I hope you will agree and leave upon learning the horrors that lurk within.
A Writer's Life for Me 