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There's this hotel where I live, up on the fourth floor there's a haunted room. A long time ago there use to be a hotel there, and a prostitute of my town use to always bring her men there. To that room, the same one every time, to the room on the fourth floor, room number 217. She was know to leave "love bites" on the men she had been with, cause them marriage problems when their wives found the marks. She was a seducer, lead her men in with her charm.

She was a freak, into the dangerous stuff, willing to go to any length to get whatever pleasure she desired. So one night, the hotel owner came to the door, asking for the money she owed for her stay. He found the door unlocked and pushed it open, he stared in awe at what he saw. The well known prostitute had her wrists hand-cuffed to the bed posts, her eyes rolled back with her mouth with a crooked grin. Her throat, gashed and bitten out, scratch marks craved into the wood of the headboard.

On the window across the room, written in blood it quoted, "Love bites."