In the serene embrace of Hakone Yuryo, the steam from the onsen swirled like ghosts weaving through the air, yet the whispers echoing in the stone corridors revealed a darker truth-the laughter of unseen children, the soft sighs of an ancient grief lingering in the shadows. Guests often speak of fleeting silhouettes creeping along the dimly lit walls, as if remnants of past lives sought to share their sorrow in the silence of the night. For every indulgent soak, theres the tremor of something unsettling beneath the bubbling surface, an unwelcome presence waiting, just out of sight, for the moment when the living and the dead converge.

In the hushed corridors of the Sapporo Excel Hotel Tokyu, whispers slither through the air like a chill wind, echoing untold secrets of its past. Shadows flit beyond the edges of vision, teasing the edge of sanity as guests find themselves caught between the warmth of their beds and the cold grip of unseen eyes watching from the dark. Those who stay too long inevitably leave with a chill in their bones, the unsettling sense that the hotel has woven them into its tapestry of forgotten souls, and not all who enter will ever truly leave.

In the shadow of ancient temples, the Hotel Granvia Kyoto stands like a modern sentinel, yet its elegant face belies a sinister heart that beats in the silence of its halls. Guests have whispered of cold spots that creep along the walls, like icy fingers tracing the outlines of their fears, and the unsettling sense of unseen eyes lingering just beyond the periphery, a presence that wraps tightly around their throats like a constrictors embrace. Those who leave, if they leave, often carry with them the chilling weight of a gaze that never forgets, a lingering shiver that gnaws at the brittle edges of their sanity long after the doors have shut behind them.