A Hearsay Experience
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The hotel is still preparing their room. Leave your details and we'll let you know when they're ready to knock on your door.
Physical artifacts from the hotel. Things you can hold, smell, taste. The fiction made tangible.
Nothing ships yet. The hotel is between seasons: provisions are being prepared, reservations are recorded, and registered guests will be notified the moment the suppliers deliver.
What the residents drink. Mix at home while you talk to them.
Nothing yet. Browse the provisions above.
THE KNOCK, a HEARSAY experience, brought to you by Past Presence. Currently in development.
Correspondence: hello@pastpresence.io
Leave your email to be notified when the hotel opens its doors.
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Trust us.
Would you be willing to send a clear photo of your face? It will be used only to prepare Tane's pack.
Your selections have been recorded. We will email you when the sensory packs become available.
A confirmation is on its way. The hotel does not forget its guests.
Every conversation in this hotel becomes part of your story. To allow the hotel to remember what was said — and write it down for you — we need your permission to listen.
This captures the audio from your conversations so we can craft your personal chapter.
A note on headphones: You may use headphones during your encounters. However, for the hotel to capture both sides of the conversation, you'll need to use your speakers instead — so the walls can hear what the visitors say too.
You can enable this later from the audio controls.
The hotel regrets to inform you that Mr. Vance is no longer with us.
he still makes his rounds. when he has something to say, he knocks.
A HEARSAY Experience from PastPresence
Someone is at your door.
They have something to tell you. Whether you believe them is up to you.
Nothing here is scripted. The residents of the Mane Nobiscum are given who they are: their histories, their grudges, what they saw and what they will not say. What they choose to tell you, in their own words, in real time, has never been said before and will not be said again. Two guests can spend a week behind this door and leave holding different books.
While you talk, the hotel writes. Every conversation becomes a chapter of a novel in which you are the occupant of Room 412, and when your stay has gathered enough of itself, the hotel binds the chapters into a manuscript: scenes you never witnessed, notes passed in hallways you never walked, and one answer to the question everyone here circles, chosen from what you, specifically, went looking for.
There is one premise. A locked room, a dead owner, and a hotel full of people who each remember that night differently. Everything after the first knock is yours.
No puzzles. No right answers. Just unreliable narrators and the stories they tell through a door.
Unreliable narrators, reliable conversations.
The walls have ears, you know.
Grab a drink. Check back shortly.
Unable to generate chapter.
The nights you've spent at Room 412, rendered in prose.
No chapters yet.
Talk to the residents, then Retire for the Night to receive your first chapter.
Your story has grown enough to weave together.
The hotel will add scenes you didn't witness. Characters talking when you weren't listening. Notes left in hallways. The connective tissue of a story.
Weaving scenes you never witnessed. Finding threads you didn't know were there.
This takes longer than a single chapter. The hotel has much to remember.
The hotel has added its own memories to yours. Conversations you didn't hear. Notes you didn't find. The story is now more than the sum of its parts.
Something went wrong in the weaving.
A complete narrative woven from your encounters at Room 412.
Show Solomon what you're working with.
Snap your liquor cabinet, fridge, pantry — up to three photos. Priya will take it from there.