The Ghosts of Lakeforth Hotel Read online

  “Do you wanna come with me and check out this hotel?” he asks again. “It's about a day's drive from here. It's where my parents used to take me as a kid.”

  “Uh-huh.” I wait for him to explain, but he's just staring at me. “Why exactly do you want to go back there?”

  “I just think it'd be cool. We could swing by on our way to Brighton.”

  “I only have a week off,” I tell him. “Plus, my dumb-ass sister is -”

  “She can come too.”

  I open my mouth to reply, but I feel strangely dizzy. “What time is it?” I manage to stammer finally, as I realize I can hear music in the distance. A waltz.

  “I'll book us rooms,” he continues, with a faint smile, as if he's not quite telling me everything. “The place used to be full of old people. I wanna go and see if it still is.”

  “I'm not sure I can afford a -”

  “I'll pay.”

  Sighing, I realize that he's serious. “Okay. Whatever, I just -”

  Before I can finish, I realize that the sound of the city has suddenly vanished. Turning, I look over at the window and see nothing outside except darkness. Suddenly night has fallen. I've had dreams like this, but I'm not dreaming now. I can't be. At the same time, placing a hand on my chest, I can't help noticing a sudden throbbing pain that seems to be slicing straight through.

  “Don't worry,” Steve continues, his voice starting to twist and warp in the air around me. “It won't be creepy. It'll be just us, in that big old empty hotel.”

  “I thought you wanted to see the other guests,” I reply, turning to him.

  “Oh, right. Sure. Yeah, totally.” He forces a big grin. “It'll be fun, Beth, I promise. And we're so close to the Lakeforth already. All you have to do, really, is open your eyes.”

  “Do what?”

  “Open your eyes.”

  “They are open.”

  He shakes his head, still smiling.

  “They are open,” I stammer again, although I'm starting to doubt myself. I can feel my mind rising through the air, through a cloud of darkness, and the distant waltz music is getting closer. At the same time, there's a beeping sound, accompanied by flashing lights.

  “Open your eyes, Beth,” Steve says yet again, staring at me with fresh intensity. “You can't stay knocked out forever. You have to open your eyes.”

  ***

  Opening my eyes, I find myself in darkness. I quickly realize I can hear music in the distance. Beautiful music, maybe a waltz. For a moment, I have no idea where I am, but then the memory of the hotel settles in my head again. The music must be coming from the ballroom downstairs. It has to be. But then, why would I be up here all alone in the dark, in a cold room?

  I bet the dancing is really something.

  But it's not real.

  It can't be real.

  And that's when I remember the moment when Steve stabbed me from behind. I let out a gasp and try to sit up, but the pain catches my chest tight and holds me down against the bed. I grab the sheets, squeezing as hard as I can manage while I wait for the worst of the agony to pass.

  Suddenly the music stops, and I realize that I was in another daze. The pain in my chest is intense and tight, and I'm starting to worry that I'm developing a serious infection. I remember what happened now, after I was dragged back into the hotel. Steve claimed that he knew how to clean the wound after he pulled the knife out, but I don't think he really had a clue what he was doing. I feel hot and sweaty, and I'm struggling to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time.

  I think I might have lost a lot of blood.

  A moment later, I realize there are bright lights flashing in the darkness outside one of the windows. I turn just in time to see the lights swing away, accompanied by what sounds like a large truck driving past the hotel.

  Tilting my head back, I try to cry out, but there's a tight gag over my mouth. All I can manage is a very faint, very muffled groan, although deep down I know that there's nobody else for miles around. I start struggling with the ropes around my wrists, but they're far too tight. I can feel the rough fibers rubbing against my flesh, cutting through my wrists, but I still can't make myself stop pulling. I continue to wriggle for several more minutes, trying to find some way that I might get free, and then finally I fall still for a moment.

  The sound of the truck has faded into the distance, and the lights are gone too.

  Tears are rolling down my cheeks.

  “You should see the place,” Steve told me earlier, while he was settling me onto the bed. “It's so beautiful, Beth. I can't wait until it's all finished and you're well enough to enjoy one of these nights with me. I have a dress all picked out for you, but I'm afraid I can't trust you, not yet. You see, I didn't get to where I am today by trusting the wrong people. I'm a great judge of character, Beth, and you... Well, you're just not ready yet. It's going to take a while before you see things from my point of view. But you will. I promise.”

  And then he stroked my hair tenderly for a moment, even though I was struggling and desperately trying to slip the gag so I could cry out.

  Suddenly, hearing footsteps coming toward the door, I turn and look across the pitch-black room. A moment later, a light flicks on in the corridor, creating a faint outline of the door, which finally opens to reveal a familiar figure bringing a tray of food for me. I immediately flinch as I watch him coming closer, and then I wait as he sets the tray down and flicks a switch on the wall.

  The lamp comes to life next to the bed, and I find myself staring up at Steve's smiling face.

  “Hey, how -”

  I immediately try to scream, but the gag is still too tight.

  “Hey there,” he continues, as he starts busying himself with the contents of the tray. “Let me tell you, I'm really coming up with a lot of ideas tonight. I mean, I came up with ideas before, when I was planning all of this, but it was hard to really visualize the place. Now that I'm here again after all these years, I've got so many ideas flooding into my mind, I almost kinda wish I could slow them down a little. That's crazy, huh?”

  I struggle to pull my hands free from the leather restraints, but Steve has tied them far too tight.

  “Don't worry about all that,” he says, fiddling with something on the tray for a moment before moving a spoonful of mashed food to my lips. “Now, you need to keep your strength up, don't you? I know you've been resting, and that's good, but you still need your vitamins and minerals. I wouldn't want to see you looking sick. I worry about you a lot, you know. You're not going to spend forever here on this bed. This is just a temporary measure while I wait for you to come around to my way of thinking.”

  I try to tell him to go to hell, but I can't get any of the words out. Struggling for breath, I pause for a moment, trying to figure out how else I can get out of here, and then suddenly Steve reaches over and pulls the gag clear.

  “Help!” I scream, as loud as I can manage. “Somebody help me!”

  “Who do you think's going to hear that?”

  “Help me!”

  “There's nobody for miles, Beth. You saw how far this place is from civilization. Or are you thinking that maybe your sister's ghost might come and untie you? Well, that's not how it works. In fact, I haven't seen Annie since yesterday morning. I'm afraid I think she's faded away. That happens with some ghosts, you know. I think it's 'cause they just don't have that pure force of personality, you know? They're not angry enough to stick around. Annie was loud when she was alive, but in the end there wasn't really very much to her.”

  “You're insane!” I sob, as my whole body convulses and I feel a shuddering pain in my chest. “How the hell did I not see that before?”

  “Because I didn't want you to,” he replies. “Anyway, I'm not insane. That's a really mean word, Beth. God, I feel so -”

  “Go to hell!” I scream. “You're a psychopath, you -”

  Suddenly he slaps me hard, forcing me to turn away as I feel a harsh stinging sensation on t
he side of my face.

  “I'm sorry,” he stammers, leaning closer and kissing me on the cheek.

  Turning, I spit at him, and he immediately pulls back. He looks utterly startled.

  “I didn't mean to hit you,” he continues. “Honestly, that was a mistake. You just provoked me, that's all. It won't happen again, though. I don't hit women. I just need you to start seeing all of this from my point of view. The hotel can be a wonderful place again, and I need someone to share it with. Someone to be by my side. I want that someone to be you, Beth.”

  “Have you always been like this?” I ask, as tears stream down my face. “Have you always been crazy?”

  “You're funny. Did anyone ever tell you that?”

  “Was any of it true?” I stammer. “About you coming here with your parents? About this place meaning something to you?”

  “Of course. All of that was true. I just left out the past where old Mr. Nash left the hotel to me in his will. He was the guy in that photo I showed you. He was nice, he taught me everything I know. And then I added some ideas of my own, naturally.”

  “Where's Annie?”

  “Beth -”

  “Where's Annie?” I scream.

  He sighs.

  “Where's my goddamn sister, you -”

  “Time to eat,” he says firmly, pushing the spoon into my mouth and forcing it deep down my throat. I start gagging as I feel the spoon's plastic tip scraping against the back of my tongue, and as Steve turns the spoon and wipes the mash loose. Some of the food falls down my throat, and some remains stuck on my tongue as he pulls the spoon out.

  Almost choking, I struggle with my gag reflex until finally I manage to swallow the whole spoonful.

  “That wasn't so bad, was it?” Steve continues, as he loads up some more food. “I'm sorry I left you up here all day today, but I've been out exploring the site. Can you believe, this whole place is mine? My parents thought they could get their grubby hands on it, they wanted me to sell it. They probably thought I'd pay off their mortgage, something like that. Well, that didn't work out too well for them.”

  He pauses, clearly simmering with anger.

  “Nobody'll find them now, anyway,” he mutters. “I sorted them both out before I picked you up to drive here.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, trembling with fear.

  I wait, but he doesn't reply. Instead, a faint smile crosses his lips, and he seems to be lost in his own thoughts.

  “What did you do to them, Steve?” I continue, trying to stay calm. “Are your parents okay?”

  “They were idiots. They deserved it.”

  “Steve -”

  “Don't ask about them!” he snaps, reaching the spoon toward my lips again. “Come on, I need to feed you before I go back downstairs. I have so much more work to get done tonight.”

  He starts slipping the spoon between my lips, but I quickly spit the mash back at him.

  “Stop that!” he yells, smashing the back of his hand against my cheek.

  Wincing, I turn away.

  “You did it again!” he hisses, wiping the mash from his shoulder before spooning some more from the bowl. “I don't hit women, Beth, so stop making me do it! You're gonna be my princess here at the hotel. You're gonna have the most perfect, luxurious life. No more scrimping and saving, no more pulling double shifts to put yourself through some pathetic, pointless college course. All you've got to do is accept everything I'm offering you. And you will. I know it.”

  “I won't ever take anything from you,” I stammer. “People are going to notice that I'm missing, Steve. I told people I was coming here with you!”

  “Uh, no, you didn't.” He smiles. “Not anyone that can help you, anyway. It was all quite last-minute, remember? Annie knew, but she's dead. And my parents knew, but they're dead too. Is there anyone else you told, Beth? Be honest now.”

  I open my mouth to to lie and tell him there were others, but I can already tell that he's got me sussed.

  “By the time anyone else comes here,” he continues, “the Lakeforth is going to have been reborn. I have so many plans, and you're gonna be amazed. Just wait, Beth, and have a little faith. Maybe my methods are kinda rough, I'll admit that, but you're gonna be proud of me eventually. I'm gonna do everything Jobard Nash couldn't, and I'm gonna start by taking the problems he faced and turning them into solutions. That's what makes me a real businessman. I'm gonna succeed where he failed.”

  Before I can tell him again that he's insane, he forces the spoon back into my mouth, and this time he plunges the tip deeper than ever into my throat. I start gagging desperately, but he's scraping the plastic tip hard and wiping more of the food against the back of my tongue. Barely able to breath, I shake violently as I try to get free, and as the spoon's tip slips deeper and deeper down my throat.

  “I've got such big plans!” Steve adds with a grin. “And you're gonna stay right here to watch!”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Letting out a gasp of pain, I feel a bead of liquid start running down from my wrist and onto the palm of my hand.

  Blood.

  I must have worn through the flesh of my right wrist, after spending the past few hours desperately trying to break free of these leather restraints. I know I have to get off the bed, but I'm all out of ideas and my only option is to somehow force my wrists free. I've considered breaking my thumb, the way I've seen people get loose in films, but I think even that might not help. Besides, as I work in the pitch-black room, I can't help thinking that there has to be another option.

  There has to be a way to get free before Steve comes back up.

  I just have to be smart enough to figure it out.

  Steve's been gone for hours now. After feeding me, he ranted on for a little while longer about Jobard Nash and about the history of the hotel, and about all the ways this Nash guy failed. Steve keeps talking about having some great master-plan up his sleeve, and I think he genuinely believes that eventually he'll not only turn the Lakeforth into the most successful hotel in the world, but he'll also persuade me to see things from his point of view so that I'll become his wife. I wasn't planning to marry the guy before I found out he was a murderous psychopath, and nothing over the past twenty-four hours has changed my mind.

  “You can do this,” I tell myself, twisting my right hand a little and focusing on the fact that I'm going to have to push through the pain barrier. Even if I lose half the skin around my wrist, I have to get off this bed.

  I pause for a moment, before starting to pull as hard as I can manage. As the pain builds, I start letting out a muffled groan, straining against the gag as I feel sweat starting to roll down my face. I know I can't stop, and I can feel my flesh slowly tearing beneath the restraints, but I think that maybe – just maybe – I might be able to do this. I pull and pull, tensing every muscle in my body, telling myself that somehow I'm going to get out of here.

  And then, just as I think I actually have a chance, I lean too far and the bed collapses beneath me. One of the legs must have broken, and I quickly crash down to the floor with a thud. Letting out a gasp of pain, I'm able to start sliding the restraint away from the bed's wooden board, which finally leaves me still wearing the damn thing but with my right hand no longer attached to anything. I can't see clearly in the darkness, but I maneuver myself around and immediately pull the gag from my mouth, and then I start working on my other wrist, hoping that I can demolish the rest of the bed's frame and somehow get out of here.

  A moment later, however, I stop working as I realize I can hear footsteps heading this way along the corridor.

  I turn and look toward the door, expecting to see a light in the corridor, but everything remains dark. The footsteps stop on the other side of the door, and for a moment I start worrying that maybe Steve heard my struggles and came to investigate, but if that was the case then I'm sure he would have entered the room by now. My heart is pounding, and I know that this might be my last chance to get away.

&nbs
p; “Steve?” I stammer finally, hoping to buy myself some time as I fumble for one of the broken pieces of wood. Finding one with a sharp end, I figure that while I'm still partly attached to the bed's frame, I can at least defend myself. “Steve, is that you?”

  I wait, but there's no reply.

  It has to be him, though.

  There's nobody else here.

  “Steve, are you coming in?” I ask, telling myself that I need him to come close if I'm going to use the broken wood against him. At the same time, I'm working furiously to free myself from the last of the restraints. “Come on, you bastard, I dare you! Or are you even more of a coward than I realized?”

  Nothing.

  Silence.

  “Screw you, then,” I mutter, turning and struggling in the darkness to break another section of the bed's frame. “I'll be -”

  Before I can finish, I hear the door-handle starting to turn. Looking over my shoulder, I'm just about able to see the door swinging open in the darkness, but there's nobody standing on the other side. Just an empty corridor with a patch of moonlight on the far wall.

  Swallowing hard, I realize that Steve must be playing some kind of game. He probably wants me to think that there are ghosts here. The little girl I saw earlier was obviously a trick, one that he's trying to pull again.

  “What's wrong?” I ask. “Are you scared? What have you got to be scared of? I'm defenseless, right? It's not like I can fight back. Come on, asshole, do your best!”

  I'm trembling with fear, but I genuinely want Steve to step into view and come at me. I might be at a disadvantage, but right now I'm certain I can take the bastard down, even if I can only use one arm and my only weapon is a broken piece of wood. Steve's tough and fit, but I'm damn well not going down without a fight.

  “Come on!” I yell. “What are you waiting for? Come and get me!”

  I wait, but there's still no reply, so finally I shift around to the side of the bed and start kicking furiously at the frame. I can already feel the damn thing starting to come loose, and finally another of the panels splits down the middle, which is just enough to let me twist the other restraint loose. Pulling away, I'm finally free, and I scramble to my feet while still holding the broken piece of wood in my right hand. I take a step across the dark room, heading toward the open doorway, but then I hesitate as I realize that Steve is most likely lurking outside, ready to strike as soon as I get closer.