Emma Watson's Night of Naked Desperation

In the dim light of the fifth-floor suite, Emma Watson lay fast asleep beneath the sheets, her body bare and naked after a long soak in the jacuzzi that had soothed her aching muscles. The hotel was shrouded in silence, the only sound the occasional rustle from the receptionist in the lobby. After weeks of filming, she had finally found a moment of peace, drifting into dreams of freedom and escape. But as the shadows shifted in the corners of the room, an unsettling presence lingered just beyond her awareness, waiting in the stillness of the night.

It finally pressed against her consciousness, pulling her from the depths of sleep. Emma stirred, a nagging pressure on her bladder jolting her awake. The cocktails she had had the evening before had finally caught up with her. Groggy and disoriented, she blinked against the dim light filtering through the curtains, trying to shake off the remnants of her dreams. She pushed aside the sheets and got out of her bed, leaving its warmth behind as she walked towards what she thought was the bathroom door.