The Old Court House looms like a malevolent sentinel over St. Helier, its shadowy corridors whispering secrets of trials long forgotten, where the echoes of desperate pleas seem to linger just outside the realm of memory. In the dim light of the aged wood paneling, ghostly figures flit through the gloom, their hollow eyes tracking the living with a mix of longing and malice, while the very walls pulse with an unshakeable sense of dread that twists the stomach and quickens the breath. Here, amidst the creaking floorboards and the chilling drafts, guests report a suffocating weight in the air, a reminder that some souls are unwilling to leave, drawing the living into their web of despair, one haunting encounter at

The Hotel Ambassadeur stood proudly against the creeping fog of St. Helier, its facade a mere veneer over decades of whispered secrets and spectral sorrow. Within its dimly lit halls, cold spots like icy fingers brushed against unsuspecting guests, while the air was thick with the echoes of muffled conversations and distant laughter, only to dissolve into unsettling silence. As night enveloped the building, shadowy figures danced just beyond the windows, their vacant gazes fixed on the living, leaving a chilling reminder that some had never truly checked out.