The Old Hotel

Hi there, sweet fans! Yes, Ricardo is back!
As I've promised, I'm going to write my first story: this is a story me and two other friends (no one of this blog) wrote as a class work at the British Council. The writing might look a bit strange, because in each sentence we had to use a random time adverb (and some of them were a bit difficult to use in the context of the story). So here it goes:

The Old Hotel

If you asked some tourists arround the hotel, they would never guess what was inside it.
When Pikks arrived, he couldn't imagine how his night would be like. He had been doing a long journey and he needed a place to rest and pass the night.
While he was preparing to sleep he heard a woman crying. He was opening the door to see what it was just as he had a quick vision of a ghost. His face changed the color and it was as white as the snow.
The ghost cryed again and touched Pikks, killing him, but conserving his soul so it couldn't feel alone anymore.