About “Haunted Hotel” in a few words:

“Haunted Hotel” is an adult animated horror-comedy on Netflix. It follows Katherine, a single mom who inherits the Undervale Hotel and tries to run it, only to discover it’s full of ghosts — including her own brother Nathan. Throw in supernatural guests, a demon trapped in a child’s body, and two kids with secret talents, and you get equal parts spooky, weird, and surprisingly heartwarming.

Meet the characters from Haunted Hotel

Nathan

Okay, Nathan is the kind of guy who looks like he should run the front desk but secretly snacks in the basement while fixing boilers at 3 a.m. — super practical, annoyingly calm in a crisis, and strangely nostalgic about old elevator buttons. He’s got this stubborn moral code that makes him helpful to a fault (and also refuses to call himself a hero, ugh). He organizes everything into labeled mason jars but somehow loses his keys every other day, which is classic him. There’s a soft streak under the flannel and the tool belt — and yes, he hums train whistles when he’s thinking, I promise.

Katherine

Katherine is the deliciously dangerous ghost who still wears perfume like it’s a weapon and uses her laugh to rearrange the furniture (metaphorically? maybe literally). She’s glamorous, sharp, and wildly theatrical — part siren, part wounded diva — and she remembers every slight you’ve ever made, so don’t test her patience. She’ll charm you into telling secrets and then tilt her head like she didn’t hear a thing (which is a lie). Occasionally she’ll be inexplicably kind, bringing you a warm scarf she swears she didn’t mean to — or did she? Classic Katherine.

Ben

Ben is the hulking, grumpy night guard who secretly writes poetry on the back of maintenance tickets and has a soft spot for stray cats (and alarm clocks, oddly). He’s practical to a fault, will punch a door open if it needs it, and then apologize to the door — yes he does that — and will defend the hotel with a gruff, unreliable smile. There’s this whole “tough exterior, sentimental playlist” vibe; he insists he hates romance but quotes movie lines at 2 a.m. He also keeps a jar of mismatched buttons behind the security desk because “you never know,” which is the best kind of weird.

Esther

Esther is the hotel’s old-soul matriarch, the kind of ghost who runs the place with a firm hand, a knitted shawl, and the memory of a thousand anniversaries. She’s endlessly patient and terrifyingly observant — knows who’s lying before they open their mouths — and she makes tea that somehow tastes like someone else’s childhood. Sometimes she’s soft, folding blankets and humming hymns; sometimes she’s the reason the portraits blink, so, you know, versatile. She also keeps the ledger of grudges in the attic, labeled by year and mood, which is both organized and kind of dramatic.

Abaddon

Abaddon is the one-nightmare entity in the basement that prefers whispers to roars but will absolutely rearrange reality just to make a point. He’s ancient, patient, and kind of smug about it — like a bored scholar who collects fears the way other people collect stamps. Electronics spaz around him (blame the light fixtures), and he enjoys the little things: a squeaky door, a child’s lullaby, the smell of ozone, whatever unsettles the scene best. Also, he’s weirdly picky about hats? Don’t ask me why; maybe he likes hats, maybe he doesn’t — either way, big mood.