Hotel RFV / Hotel Gloriette

About this location

We moved through the Gloriette like ghosts, the silence broken only by our steps on the checkered hallway floor, its peeling wallpaper and chipped paint a faded echo of past grandeur. The attic sagged under exposed beams, a single forgotten chair among the scattered debris, while a nearby bathroom was a tableau of rot—mold creeping across the ceiling, the rusted bathtub filling with damp. In another room, a barber chair sat weathered and flaking against cracked walls, graffiti scrawled above a wooden door, marking this place as abandoned to time. Decay is the only guest left at Hotel RFV.

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