When I was younger I used to work as a night auditor for a very popular hotel chain in New Orleans. This particular hotel was once an old warehouse in the Central Business District. It had a long history that dated back to the Underground Railroad where tunnels built throughout the building were used to secretly lead slaves to boats on the Mississippi River. When the hotel owners started to demo the property to convert it into a hotel, they found old distillery equipment used during the prohibition days. The building was saturated in fantastic and interesting history.
I was told that during the renovation a decision was made to keep much of the existing brick and woodwork. This gave the hotel an intriguing historic and warehouse feel to it. While it hadn’t been occupied in nearly 40 years, the guts of the building were amazingly in great shape. It had such an interesting vibe and New Orleans is known for attracting the most interesting of guests for Mardi Gras and JazzFest. I loved it there, until the night I quit.
It was close to 3:30am when one of the guests stumbled in with a woman who frequented the hotel as a “guest” of our guests. She was one of the unspoken of perks that our concierge desk would provide when requested by only the most distinguished of guests. An incredibly beautiful, tall black woman, Diamond never had a problem getting work and she tipped us at the front desk, security and the concierge incredibly well for turning a blind eye to her activities. Being a professional flirt and me being bored out of my mind most nights, we often found ourselves having conversations when she finished her “shift.” The stories she would share with me to this day still boggle my simple mind.
Being that she had “worked” in the hotel longer than I had, she would tell me these stories about a certain row of spa suites that were visible from where I stood at the front desk up to the mezzanine. She mentioned how strange things would happen in those rooms when she or one of her girlfriends would visit them at night with at client. They were strange things like shadows, moving objects, flickering lights, and voices. I always took it as her showing off her art of storytelling and the fact she knew I often worked the desk alone at night; a point she often made when failing to meet her personal quota for the night.
On the night I quit, however, she was not her usual self. Fact of the matter is I didn’t even speak with her that night or any night thereafter. The last time I saw her she was running naked and screaming right out of the front door of the hotel. I remember hearing her first, through one of the spa suite rooms on the mezzanine. When I looked up to investigate the location of the sounds, I saw her hurl open the door of room M106 and watched her haul ass down the glass-walled hallway, down the stairs, and out to the street. I just stood there watching her in the shock and awe of the moment. Here was this voluptuous woman flopping all about, screaming, petrified and covered in something and all I could do was gawk. The moment she ran out of my sight, I sobered up and immediately gazed up at the open door of room M106.
After staring up at the wide open entrance of the room on the mezzanine for about a minute, my stomach dropped every time I saw a shadow change within the room. Soon, Bill, the lone security guard on duty, whipped around the corner from the back office area where he often took naps and quickly started asking me questions. Her screams woke him up. I pointed up to the room and tried to explain to him what had happened. He immediately called the police for backup and per protocol we both started to make our way up to the mezzanine level, eyes transfixed on the open door waiting for the drunken man to stumble out of the room. As we reach the hallway, other guests started peeping their heads out of their rooms to see what the commotion was about. We quietly hushed them back into their rooms for their own safety.
As we approached the doorway, Billy pulled out his gun and called out to the guest. There was no response, but we started to hear a very audible humming sound, almost like a rapid buzzing. When we entered the suite we could see the king size bed at the end of the hallway. This was one of the smaller spa suites that had a bed, an armoire with a TV, a desk and a jet-spa bathtub cattycorner to the bed. The bed was unkempt but empty and we couldn’t see the rest of the room from the hallway. So we moved closer in and with ever step the humming began to get louder and the shadows on the walls seemed to be floating back and forth like they were waves in the ocean.
I called out again to see if we could get an answer but we did not. We moved closer to the edge of the hallway, slowly and terrified. That’s when we began to see them. The cause of the shadow was everywhere and on everything. They seemed to blanket the entire room, on the bed, on the walls, in the air. Then we turned the corner.
Under the heat lamp above the bathtub spa there it was; a huge tent-sized swarm of angry and hungry termites. In the tub laid our naked guest, covered in termites, being devoured by termites. His body was marked by broken wings and small drill holes all along his skin. His eyes partially liquefied from the incessant digging of the termites. This once portly white man was reduced to a shade of red, brown and gray of crawling skin. The sight and swarm made it unbearable to stay and Bill and I ran out of the room, tripping over each other in our haste.
When the police arrived, they turned off the lights to the room and the swarm almost vanished instantly into the old wood beams that lined the room. A blanket of dead pests covered the room and the crunch I remember hearing as we walked through the room haunts me to this day. I was told Diamond suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome after the incident. She supposedly said that the man started to get very rough with her and that a shadow floated out of the cracks of the wood and startled the guest. He fell back into the tub and that’s when the swarm manifested itself. The cause of death was a traumatic brain injury, but it wasn’t from the fall, it was from the nesting of the termites.
To this day you can still rent room M106 at the old warehouse hotel down in New Orleans. It is just under a different number.
Credit To – StupidDialUp
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43 thoughts on “The Old Warehouse Hotel Down In New Orleans”
There was a hotel in New Orleans, they called the old warehouse
Yikes. I just finished reading this and there was an advertisement for A HOTEL CHAIN. Whyyy creepypasta.com??
Wouldn’t that almost make the “termites” or entity that spawned the termites a benevolent creature?
Anyone notice it says “Based on a true story” at the bottom? or is it just me?
Nice story but you mentioned basement/cellars in New Orleans. Aint happening with that water table
Thank you for pointing that out. That’s exactly what I was thinking. That’s why there aren’t any graves – only mausoleums. New Orleans is below sea level!!
So is it like a spa hotel? because like i live not too far from New Orleans and i can try to find the place. i just need the name and thats it. Unless its called the Old warehouse then that might give me a hard time finding it.
New Orleanian here. On one memorable occasion I woke up with 9 termites crawling on my face and chest and more in my bed; I looked over and they were being belched out of the light switch. This was pretty horrifying and this story got to me in a way I can’t really describe to people who don’t live in places with comically exaggerated termite or insect problems, so this gets 10 out of 10 AW HELL NAWs from me.
Delicious. Very well written (at least I thought so)
And the ending leaves some room for interpretation.
Not really scary…but as a story, it was good.
pritty damn good but ssome spelling and grammer checks aree needed
You’re right, some spelling and grammar checks are needed.
*pretty *some *grammar *are
This freaked me out pretty bad until I realized that termites don’t eat people they eat wood…
PLOT TWIST MOTHERFUCKER!
I kid, I kid.
I actually thought that added to the strangeness of the story. As in, what drove the termites to bend their very nature?
But your explanation is better.
I think I get it. So, a white man getting rough with a black woman in a hotel where slaves used to… travel through… or something like that? I think that the spirits of the slaves attacked the white man for injuring a fellow black WOMAN. I’m really not certain, but it was a great and eerie story nonetheless.
Great story. Weak ending. Nice plot though!!!
This wasn’t very scary compared to other things (Slender Man is my cousin) but it was still pretty good.
I don’t really think this was to scary compared to other things (Slender man is my cousin) but it was still pretty good.
The first paragraph was expertly crafted, but I didn’t feel that the rest of the story lived up to its fluency.
However, I love the idea, and the characterization of Diamond. You made her so charming, without using any dialogue at all!
I really enjoyed this pasta; it was very unique. I love how you described the hooker’ and her profession; it was incredibly clever and witty. Brownie points for using NOLA as your setting. That’s one of my favorite places in the world. Yum!
A tightly-woven locationpasta, equal parts mystery and creepiness. The main draw for me was how the author managed to twine a parallel, underhanded mystery about the ‘inhabitant’ of room M106 using small details: the history of the building, Diamond’s and her patron’s identities.
This afforded depth about the monster, using the unique, idiosyncratic strength locationpasta: your buildings and locations can tell a completely different, subtle story and set up a good climax.
The atmosphere, especially important to locationpastas, had an undertone of palpable realism: The descriptions of the minutiae of the hotal and the job, and especially the sting ending gave the piece a true-ghost-storyesque feel. The plot is also fairly mundane, maybe predictable, but I felt the clever setup and quite well-described climax made it feel flashed-out.
The pasta didn’t overstay it’s welcome: using implications and brisk pacing, it managed to fit a lot of details while keeping the prose economical. I did however feel that the second act lacked gradation, as if the plot suddenly barged in.
IMO the most obvious missing piece for this pasta was its characters. While Diamond fulfilled her plot-device roles, she scarcely had any characterization that could’ve added empathy.
The protagonist too felt generic: this was especially glaring as this was a first-person narrative, where the author could’ve added a lot of idiosyncratic tweaks. As a result of this lack, the pasta felt a bit emotionless.
Overall, this was a quite solid locationpasta that lacked a dose of emotion. 8.0/10
The pasta was rather eerie at first, but the attempt at a non-cliché or forseeable ‘twist’ at the end was somewhat disappointing. It felt almost as if it were disjointed from the rest of the story. Other than that it kept me interested, and it was very easy to imagine the hotel of the title – the setting choice was very intriguing.
I have a feeling this story is just now beginning.
hotel’s name plz?
Um… I like to eat wood actually.
Once again a great pasta by stupiddialup. It was pretty good. With a lot of detail and back story yet it jumps pretty quickly to the end with the last two paragraphs holding the scare factor. Now I’m not very scared of bugs but, I know quite a few people who would have freak attack about this. It wasn’t that scary to me at first but, then I read the tags. Based on a true story. I don’t know if this is true(My guess not) But, if it is the owner is a dick. A story that will freak out the bugophoias that is based on a true story with good detail. 7/10
What??! This isn’t creepy? It’s about bugs…? It’s just mildly gross. Not what I expected at all.
Um, many people are creeped out by bugs.
I liked the termite reveal, and the fact that it wasn’t what I was expecting. Also, it seems that people are missing that these are supernatural termites. They came in a huge swarm when the dude was getting mean, and killed only him.
Tis magic from another world
Not as creepy as I hoped it would be, but a good story none-the-less.
I loved this. Very well written.
I don’t think MisterVercetti is correct in his comment at all.
I loved that the ending wasn’t obvious, I knew the man would be found dead but the way he died was a pleasant surprise (for me anyway). Very well described with a good plot and a nice ending. 8/10.
Well I don’t think you are correct in your comment either. In fact, I would argue the exact opposite…it’s called an opinion, pal, not fact.
Thats why he said “I dont think he’s correct”, not “I know for a fact that he is wrong”
That was his opinion mate.
Shh Just let him feel superior, it’s all he has.
I eat wood actually.
You’re a woodpecker?
Woodpeckers don’t eat wood.
Can I say this is a delicious type of pasta c:
Wonderful buildup to a weak ending. What sane hotel would, after knowing that at least one of its rooms was infested by a swarm of flesh-eating termites, just sweep it under the rug and continue renting out the room like nothing happened? Maybe you could have gone more in-depth about the owner of the hotel; maybe he wanted it that way, where maybe he had something to gain from guests being eaten alive by insects? Maybe it could have tied in to why the inside of the building was so immaculate after 40+ years of being abandoned.
I know creepy stories need to have some degree of suspension of belief to work, but as it stands the ending of this one takes all sense of plausibility and chucks it clean out the window.
If you only knew the swarms of termites tht random engulf this city each spring… I doubt they could have done anything about the pests if they wanted…
Ok… Now I am scared that I will be eaten alive in my sleep. What happy thoughts…