by Amy Cross
Copyright 2016 Amy Cross
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, entities and places are either products of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, businesses, entities or events is entirely coincidental.
Kindle edition
Dark Season Books
First published: October 2016
This book's front cover incorporates elements licensed from the Bigstock photo site.
A girl on the run, hiding from a terrible crime.
An old B&B in a snowy city.
A hidden figure lurking in the streets, waiting for his next victim.
When Bobbie takes a room at the rundown Castle Crown B&B, all she wants is to get some sleep and make a tough decision about her future. Unfortunately, the B&B's other guests won't give her any peace, and Bobbie soon realizes that she's stumbled into a world with its own rules. Who is the mysterious bandaged woman? Why is there a dead man in the bathtub? And is something deadly lurking in the basement?
Before she can leave, however, Bobbie learns that the city of Canterbury is being terrorized by a mysterious figure. Every time snow comes, the Snowman claims another victim, leaving their blood sinking into the ice. If Bobbie leaves the B&B and ventures out into the empty streets, she risks becoming his next target. But if she stays, her soul might be claimed by something even more deadly.
B&B is a horror story about a girl with a secret, and a building with a past.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
B&B
One
There's so much snow in the air tonight, I can barely breathe.
Realizing that there's no sign of anyone answering the door, I clamber back up the icy steps and knock again. It's getting late and I really need a room for the night, just one night so I can decide where to go next, and this isn't the weather to start traipsing about the city. Climbing back down the steps, I look along the curving street and see Canterbury Cathedral in the distance, lit against the pitch-black sky as it towers high above the higgledy-piggledy buildings. The scene is so peaceful and calm, and the only sound is the gentle rustle of snow falling all around.
It's almost hypnotic.
Finally, figuring that nobody is going to answer the door, I reach down and grab the handle of my suitcase, dragging it around in the snow so I can set off along the street in search of somewhere else to stay. I'm freezing, and I need a warm bed so I can stop shivering and start figuring out what to do tomorrow. I've been running for long enough now; I need to make a decision about the future. Unfortunately, I called every other B&B in the city already and found they were all full, and now no-one's answering either the door or the phone at this one. I guess maybe I'll just have to sleep at the train station and hope I don't freeze.
And then tomorrow, I'll -
Suddenly I hear footsteps behind the B&B's blue door. I turn and look up, just as the door shudders and swings open. To my surprise, a woman emerges wearing a floral-patterned night-gown. She stops, staring at me with wild eyes that are barely visible through two holes in her bandages. Her entire head is swathed in clean white strips of cloth, as if she's some kind of burn victim, and she seems kinda startled by the sight of me. For several seconds, she simply watches me from the top of the steps, as if I'm the strangest, most surprising thing she's ever encountered in her life.
And still the snow falls. Maybe it's even heavier and faster than before, as if it's trying to bury me.
“Sorry,” I say finally, figuring I have to be the first one to speak, “is this -”
Above me, there's a sudden creaking sound. I look up and see an old wooden sign for the Castle Crown B&B swinging gently in the late-night breeze. Snow has collected on the sign's edges, freezing against the wood.
“Do you have any rooms available?” I ask, turning back to look at the bandaged woman. “I know it's late. I tried calling from the phone-box at the station, but no-one answered. All the other B&B numbers I tried were full, so I figured...”
My voice trails off. I don't know what's wrong with this woman, but she seems utterly shocked by my presence. In fact, I'm starting to wonder if she's even the owner. I mean, I know it's a little late to be knocking, but she shouldn't be this surprised. If you run a B&B, you've gotta expect that sometimes -
Suddenly she slams the door shut, leaving me out alone on the street.
“Huh,” I mutter. “Okay.”
I wait.
Silence.
“I guess not, then,” I say with a sigh. “I'll just -”
Suddenly the door swings back open, and the bandaged woman once again stares out at me. Maybe she thought I'd have vanished in a puff of smoke.
“I don't want to cause any trouble,” I tell her, glancing at the window in case I missed a 'No Vacancies' sign. “I really just wanted to see if you had any rooms available for the night. I'm just kinda passing through, that's all. But if you don't have any vacancies, then...”
Again, I'm not quite sure how to continue. With snow still falling all around, I feel as if I'm only going to find it harder and harder to keep dragging my suitcase through the Canterbury streets, and it's already almost 10pm now. I need to find a room somewhere before it becomes impossible to get about, or I really will end up on a bench at the station. But if that's how things are gonna go tonight, then I guess I have no choice.
“Okay, then,” I add, forcing a smile. “Sorry to disturb you. I'll try somewhere else.”
With that, I turn and start pulling my suitcase along.
“Wait!” a rasping voice calls out suddenly.
I stop and turn back to see that the bandaged woman is still watching me from the doorway. I think the voice came from her, but it's hard to be sure.
“Come in,” she continues, her voice sounding damaged and scratchy. There's a slit on the front of her bandages, but it's still not easy to hear what she's saying. Nevertheless, she gestures for me to follow her as she slips back into the darkness of the hallway, so I guess she must have an available room after all.
I glance both ways along the street, just in case by some miracle I spot another B&B I can try, and then I haul my suitcase to the foot of the steps. The damn thing is incredibly heavy and my arms ache as I start bumping it up to the doorway, and the process isn't helped by the fact that ice has started to form on the steps, forcing me to keep one hand on the railing. Finally, however, I manage to drag myself and the case through the doorway and into the narrow, high-ceilinged hallway, and I'm immediately struck by a rather fusty smell.
This place is old. Like, really old. I don't think it's been done up in... Well, let's be charitable and say decades. Still, beggars can't be choosers, and the place one very important thing going for it: nobody will ever think to look for me here. I can hide, even if it's just for one more night.
There's an open door to the left, and I can hear someone shuffling about in there. Once my suitcase is safely inside, I swing the door shut and then I make my way to the door, where I find that the bandaged woman is rifling through a desk as if she's desperately searching for something. She seems almost panicked. For a moment, she almost seems to have forgotten that I'm here, but finally she glances in my direction. She stares at me with those same fearful eyes, and then she mutters something under her breath before leaving the desk and coming to the office door. She stops again, watching me with a hint of suspicion, but the holes in her bandages are so small that I ca
n barely see her eyes properly at all. Something about this entire situation is making me feel pretty uncomfortable, and I'm starting to feel very glad that I'm only staying one night. If I had any other options, I'd be outta here already.
When I glance at the hooks on the wall, I see that there's only one key. I guess that means the other eleven rooms are all occupied for the night.
“So how much is it?” I ask, hoping to get the process started. I just want to get to bed and sleep on my next move. Everything will feel clearer in the morning. “A room, I mean. I don't want to put you out, but I'm kinda in a bind. I didn't expect to be coming here today, and then I didn't have time to call ahead, and I don't have a phone with me. It's kind of a funny story how I ended up here, I actually -”
Stopping suddenly, I realize that she probably doesn't want to know. Besides, I'd be lying anyway. It's not like I can tell her the truth. She'd call the police.
I reach into my pocket and carefully feel the wad of money. I don't want to pull the whole pile out, in case I give her any ideas about bumping up the price, so I count off a few notes and then slip them out.
“I'll be paying cash,” I tell her, hoping not to arouse suspicion.
Again I wait for her to say something, but again she seems shocked by the sight of me. I'm starting to wonder if she's drunk or high. Or crazy. Or all three.
“You are the owner, right?” I continue, unable to shake a sense of unease. “I just want a room, somewhere to sleep. I'm not fussy, but...”
I wait.
Nothing.
She simply stares at me.
“Okay, then,” I say finally, realizing that this has gone beyond awkward and has turned into an extremely weird situation, “maybe I really should get going. I'm sure I can find another B&B, and if not I can always try to get the last train to London, or I can sleep at the station and leave in the morning.” I take a step back. “I'll just be on my way and leave you in peace.”
With that, I turn and head to the door.
“No!” the woman gasps suddenly. “Wait!”
Stopping, I turn back to her.
She reaches up and unhooks something, and then she swings down a section of wood that forms a makeshift counter in the doorway. Her hands are trembling, but at least now she actually seems to understand what I want, and I watch as she grabs some kind of printed form and a pen. She mumbles something under her bandages as she scribbles some details onto the form, but she stops halfway and slides the piece of paper away, letting it fall behind her to the floor.
“Are you okay?” I ask. “Is this a bad time? I just -”
“Room four,” she mutters, slipping a key from the hook. She stares down at the key for a moment, as if she's a little indecisive. “I suppose,” she adds. “Yeah. I guess you should take room four. It's the only one that's...”
Her voice trails off.
“It's the only one that's free,” she continues finally, her voice filled with a hint of wonder.
“And how much is that?” I ask.
Again, she hesitates. “What?”
“How much is a room for the night?”
“Oh.” She seems genuinely confused by the question, as if nobody has ever asked before. “The usual,” she adds finally. “What was it? Forty-five? Sure. Forty-five pounds.”
“That seems kinda cheap,” I point out.
She stares at me for a moment, before shrugging.
“Okay.” I count out the money from my little handful and set it on the counter. I'm still not sure I really want to stay here at all, and I'm starting to think a bench at the station might be less trouble. Still, I guess I'm here now. “And that includes breakfast?”
Again, she seems confused by the question.
“I suppose it does, yeah,” she says, clearly in something of a daze. “Sure.”
“My name's Bobbie,” I reply, hoping to get things back on-track. “Roberta, actually, but people call me Bobbie. Don't you need to take my details?”
“Details?”
“So I can stay the night?”
She stares at me, and a moment later I hear a loud gulping sound from beneath the bandages.
“Roberta Simmons,” I continue, taking my wallet from my pocket and slipping out my provisional license, before holding it up for her to see. I figure I should offer a little information now, rather than have her demand more later. So long as she doesn't run it by the police or ask to keep credit card details on file, I should be fine.
Outside, the wind is really howling.
Suddenly the woman snatches the license from my hand and turns so she can see it better in the light. Her hands are still trembling and she seems absolutely mesmerized for a moment as she looks at my details. In fact, this woman seems so confused and surprised by everything, and I'm more and more convinced that she's not right in the head. Either she has some kind of issue, or maybe there are noxious fumes in the building, or -
“Okay,” she says suddenly, setting the license on the counter. “Fine. Okay. I get it.”
“Sorry?” I ask, taking the license and sliding it back into my wallet.
She stares at me for a moment longer, and then she slowly starts nodding. “Okay,” she adds. “Sure.”
“Sure what?”
“Sure... Sure you can have the room. Why not, right?”
“Thank you,” I reply as she raises the counter and steps through to join me in the hallway. She still seems surprised somehow by my arrival, but at least she's apparently decided it's okay for me to stay. Even if I'm having second thoughts about that myself. “Like I said,” I continue, “it's just for one night. To be honest, my plans are pretty fluid and it was kinda last-minute for me to come to Canterbury at all. I mean, this morning I didn't even...”
Sighing, I remind myself that she probably really doesn't care. Besides, the more I jabber on, the more like I am to trip myself up in a lie.
“I'll show you to your room,” she mumbles from beneath the bandages, still holding the key in her shaking hands. After a moment, she turns and shuffles to the stairs, and I notice for the first time that she's barefoot and limping slightly.
“Thank you,” I mutter, lugging my suitcase after her.
The stairs are steep and narrow, and they twist around on themselves halfway up. My suitcase feels heavier than ever; I've dragged it around all day, but now these final few meters are real agony. I'm already kinda out of breath, and I can't help noticing that the woman keeps glancing over her shoulder at me as she leads the way, almost as if she half-expects me to suddenly disappear.
Halfway up the stairs, there's a large plant in a pot. I don't know exactly what type it is, but the leaves are long and look a little spiky, with yellow tints at the green edges.
“Nice plant,” I say, trying to make conversation.
She stops and looks down at the plant for a moment. “Yeah, you'd think so,” she mutters bitterly, giving the pot a gentle kick before turning and continuing her march up to the next floor.
I stare at the plant, wondering what it could have done to earn such displeasure, but I quickly realize that there's no point worrying too much. Whatever's going on in this place, I just need to get my head down for the night and then leave first thing in the morning. And by the time I leave, I have to know where I'm going. I've put off the big decision long enough. Home isn't an option, but I'm not sure London's such a great idea either. I need a better plan.
My arms are aching, but I tighten my grip on the suitcase and then focus on bumping it the rest of the way up the stairs, while trying not to make too much noise in case I wake the other guests.
When I get to the top, I see that the bandaged woman is at the far side of the landing, already using the key to open one of the doors.
“You have a really nice place here,” I tell her, trying to sound positive despite the discolored walls, weird paintings and strange smell. I drag my suitcase across the landing and into room four, where I find that the bandaged woman is standing with her
back to the wall. If I didn't know better, I'd think she's actually a little afraid of me.
The room is small and basic, and it smells pretty damp, but it sure beats sleeping at the train station. Right now, the bed's the only thing that matters. I'm exhausted.
“Thank you so much for letting me stay,” I say as I set the suitcase down. My arms are aching worse than ever, and I'm still a little out of breath as I head over to the window and look out. At first, all I see is the reflection of the room's interior, but after a moment I realize the window overlooks a long, dark alley that runs behind the B&B. This house might be strange, and the landlady might be even stranger, but I'm still glad I'm not out there in this weather. A girl could freeze to death on a night like this.
Suddenly the woman mumbles something beneath her bandages.
I turn to her. “I'm sorry, what was -”
“Nothing,” she says quickly, and now she seems even more frightened. “Ignore me. I didn't say anything.”
“Okay,” I continue, “but -”
She mumbles something else, and then she tosses the key onto the bed before heading to the door.
“What time is breakfast?” I ask.
Again, her voice is hard to make out, but I think she says something about breakfast being between seven and ten. To be honest, although I know I'll be hungry in the morning, I'm already starting to think that this B&B is way too weird for me to even want to try the breakfast. I saw a cafe down the street, so I can just go there for something to eat tomorrow while I'm heading to the train station.
Making my way over to the open door, I find that the woman is now loitering on the hallway, still staring at me.
“I think I just need to get to sleep,” I tell her, placing a hand on the edge of the door, ready to swing it shut. “I'm going to go to bed.”
“Of course you are,” she replies.
“I'm sorry?”
She shrugs, causing her bandages to rustle in the process.
“We have food in the basement,” she adds. “Late-night snacks, that kind of thing. There's a tea and coffee machine. Sometimes people...”
