The Haunting of Room 904 by Erika T. Wurth
Flatiron Books (March 2025)
Reviewed by Haley Newlin
What is it that horror readers love about a haunted hotel?
Is it the haunted house feel but with more witnesses? The hauntings that vary from floor to floor as though specters and entities take the elevator themselves? The idea of a place that has seen such tragedy, death after death, that it shines like a ghoulish beacon for spirits and curses? It’s really all the above. The isolation, the secrets and hidden history, the absorption and spiritual/paranormal preservation of human suffering have popularized stories like Stephen King’s The Shining, Psycho by Robert Bloch, and The Sun Down Motel by Simone St. James.
But Erika T. Wurth’s The Haunting of Room 904, is all of the above and so much more. Wurth reminds readers, who may have been subconsciously programmed to believe otherwise, that the Catholic church does not have a monopoly on the supernatural. Not every entity can be condemned to hell with a traditional Catholic exorcism or disarmed with Christian bible verses. Instead, The Haunting of Room 904 uses Jewish, Mexican, Cheyenne, and Apache relics, rituals, and other practices.
In The Haunting of Room 904, Olivia Becente has the gift of communing with the dead, and has ever since the strange and tragic death of her cult-affiliated sister, Naiche. Now, the most in-demand paranormal investigator in Denver, she’s called to The Brown Palace, a landmark hotel where every five years, a girl staying in a different room is found dead in room 904. The owners can’t explain it.
As Olivia investigates, she unravels a centuries old tragedy and a lineage of violence. She is visited by a Native two-spirit who details the tragic historical event of the Sand Creek Massacre, one of the most grotesque examples of colonial violence, referred to as “the massacre” in the book. This is the heart of the book and truly captures the trauma and power of the Native experience. It’s effective, upsetting, and unforgettable. It’s exactly the kind of story the world needs right now. It evokes horror and empathy.
The Haunting of Room 904 doesn’t quite feel as explicitly horror as Wurth’s debut, White Horse.
Instead, this book is part historical horror, part thriller with a heavy paranormal investigative element. Wurth excels at crafting delectable genre blends.
I loved the protagonist, Olivia. She is headstrong, willful, and fierce. Her motivation to end the cycle of death at the hotel and to learn the truth about what happened to her sister is compelling and satisfying. I connected with her character the most but appreciate the queer and Jewish representation, too.
The themes of grief and generational trauma were the standout elements in The Haunting of Room 904 and have become a sort of trademark in Wurth’s writing. Whether you’re with Olivia in Room 904, at the site of the massacre, or in a cafe, this novel hammers a dread into readers and transcends the word haunting. I’d recommend her work to anyone looking for grief horror like Clay McLeod Chapman’s Ghost Eaters.
The Haunting of Room 904 might be one of the most important and powerful books I’ve read recently, especially in today’s political climate. It speaks to genocide, historical and generational trauma, both polite and violent racism, misogyny and more.
The premise of The Haunting of Room 904 will lure in horror readers and hook them with its immediate and shocking dive into the paranormal. Atmospheric, terrifying, and eye-opening, Erika T. Wurth’s The Haunting of Room 904 is not to be missed. For fans of The Conjuring films, Cynthia Pelayo, and The Whistler by Nick Medina.
