##Section 1: An Unsettling Location

The Hotel Monte Vista takes its place on Route 66 in Flagstaff, Arizona. With a historical heartbeat violent enough to disturb the dead, it stoically remains the longest publicly operating hotel in the sunburned state. Despite its luring appeal of comfortable suites and an enriching past, it’s the rumors curling through its cornered halls and shut rooms that truly puts it on the map — rumors that aren’t just whispered amongst the staff, but also by the disappeared. The ones who paced its rooms and hallways, muittering, chilling, existing in the way only the forgotten do.

##Section 2: The Phantom Bellboy and Room 306

Perhaps the most famous whisperer in the hotel’s haunted history is the phantom bellboy. There’s an uncanny dread in his spectral playfulness, a humor tainted by the macabre. Guests, comfortably ensconced in the luxury of their rooms, often report the faint knockings that echo in their dim-lit solitude. A polite patient rap, belonging to the era of unremembered etiquette. And when they rise from their comfortable lodgings to investigate, they unlatch the door on empty air. A chill drafts in, but there’s no one. Just the oppressing sense of being viewed, of being weighed and measured by the invisible.

If the antics of the phantom bellboy were an uncomfortable mystery, the grim existence of Room 306’s specter offered more. The tragic boarder, it is said, was chained by an enduring illness, a specter of suffering that never left him during the diminishing weeks of his life. It clung to him, a devoted companion until the very end in that very room.

##Section 3: The Eternal Spectator

Now, he reciprocates, staying far beyond his natural life, stubbornly refusing to depart from the earthly realm. An eternal boarder of sorts. Those unfortunate enough to be assigned to Room 306 report a disturbing occurrence. A wakening in the depths of night, sometimes, after the last murmuring of dreams has faded. There, at the foot of their bed, is a figure. A figure silent and disapproving, with sullen eyes aglow in the moonlight, which flies in through the nearby window. He doesn’t move, just exists. An eternal spectator.

##Section 4: The Haunted Mirage

The lasting image of the phantom haunts, pervades through the marbled walls of the Hotel Monte Vista. The silent spectator, the transparent tease of an eternal bellboy, the locked in whispers and rumors, casting tall shadows in the corners of the rooms. All ghost stories, perhaps, but aren’t they more? A walk down the creaky wooden steps, or a nap under the vintage chandeliers, they’re a shared history. Unsettling may be, but isn’t that how histories are? Written by the victors, felt by the victims, and remembered by the haunted. And so, our dear Monte Vista Hotel remains – with lights glowing eerily as starlight and an unsettling quietness that hums with an unrefined sense of unrest that lasts longer than the December wind.