“I’m sorry,” she whispered into his neck, “I won’t do it again.”
“Good,” he said pulling back and smiling at her, “Now let’s go home and you can cook me dinner.”
4.
She watched him from the other side of the room as she stood by the stove. He had his feet up on her couch and was watching her TV. She shuddered. He was so vile and repulsive and now, after making the discovery that it was him that had caused her all this heartache and trouble with her job, she just wanted to be as far away from him as possible.
“Pass me another beer, babe,” he called over to her as he belched and scratched the back of his neck.
There was no way she was staying here with him another minute. She wracked her brain for someone she could call for help, but she couldn’t think of anyone who could take her in as quickly as she needed. She had lost touch with almost all of her local friends and her parents lived a day’s drive away.
She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer before twisting off the top and passing it to Ryan. He took it from her without saying thank you, and she returned to the stove. Her cell phone was in front of her and she quickly picked it up, opened her search browser and typed “hotels with vacancy near me.” The results popped up instantaneously, but they didn’t look good. She had been hoping the bigger, chain hotel would have a room, but it was fully booked and there was a conference listed on its news page.
“Shit,” she whispered.
Small town syndrome struck again and the only other option she had without needing a car was an old, dilapidated motel on the outskirts of town. She knew the place, but she had never considered going there… especially alone. Psycho sprang to mind. She knew she didn’t have a choice. It was either flee to Bates Motel or whatever it was called or stay put and deal with Ryan who was peeling back the fabric of her life one twisted layer at a time. She knew the answer was a simple one. She pressed BOOK NOW and made a reservation.
***
As she had anticipated, Ryan was passed out drunk well before 9pm. He lay on the couch with beer bottles scattered around him. His mouth flopped open and a trail of spit lolled from it as he snored and rattled. Miranda stood by the doorway, watching him. She hadn’t packed much. She was pretty certain he wouldn’t wake until the morning or at least the middle of the night, and he’d probably be too stunned to know what to do immediately. She had at least until 8am to relax, and then she would move on to the next phase of her plan…calling her parents and getting them to come for her. Mom and Dad, to the rescue. She could hide out in the hotel until they got to her. She didn’t think Ryan was smart enough to come looking for her there, and even if he did, she was going to check in using a fake name.
She walked through the dark streets clutching her purse. She’d left with the bare minimum, and she was still wearing the dress and jacket “funeral” combo from earlier in the day that she had felt so powerful in when she’d initially left the apartment. How much things could change in a matter of hours.
The streets were quiet except for a rowdy group of guys hanging around the bars as she approached Main Street. She made a left instantly and continued up the hill. It wasn’t much further, but as her heels clipped in her court shoes, they began to ache with each step. She rounded another corner, and she could see it, up high and barely lit, its old sign swinging in the warm night air. It was on the edge of the road that went out of town and by the looks of things, a couple of the rooms were occupied. Dull lights shone within them and the neon sign out front buzzed VACANCY. She was glad she wasn’t going to be there alone, but at the same time she worried who she may be sharing the building with.
***
The lady at the desk was quiet and unassuming. Miranda told her that her name was Veronica and that she was just passing through. She didn’t recognize the lady, which was strange for a town as small as hers, and she figured not many locals would be anywhere near the place with its sole purpose being to provide a rest stop for truckers and other people making their way to somewhere else. The lady passed her the key and pointed out of the main door and down to the left. The building was old and rickety with a selection of sheds that had been changed into rooms.
“You can be out there or in the house,” the lady said. “Or we have a separate building out back, quieter and further back from the road.” She eyed Miranda.
“Yes, that one,” Miranda said, “I’m a light sleeper.”
The lady took her out back and down a small, winding path. The lights to the building were already on, and when the lady stopped in front of it, Miranda found herself looking around and running her hands up the crumbling exterior walls.
“What is this?” she asked, “It looks ancient, like a coach house or something…”
“Don’t know,” the lady snapped. “It came with the house.”
She nodded to Miranda and made her way back down the path. Miranda felt creeped out. It was almost completely dark out there and she could hear bats squeaking above her. She pushed the door open and made her way inside. It was one of the strangest buildings she had ever been in… it was like stepping back in time. She quickly realized that the light she had seen from the outside was coming from candles that were lit in sconces all around the edge of the room. The floor was a thick grey stone and so were the walls. It was cold in there and the bed was old and wooden. She sat down on the edge of it and instantly regretted her decision to try and hide even further out of sight… there was no way Ryan was going to come looking at the motel… she would have been just fine in the house or up at the front in the main residential building. She sighed and lay back. She was instantly jabbed in the back by a spring from the mattress.
“Urgh,” she said, “Great.”
She got to her feet and decided to explore. She was tired and felt emotionally drained, but she didn’t think there was much chance of her sleeping in this weird place. It was like something out of a horror movie, and she could easily imagine ghosts creeping out of the dark alcoves the second her back was turned. The thought made her shudder.
As she was checking out the very odd bathroom in the corner, she turned and noticed an old wooden doorway in the main room, shielded by a screen. She squinted at first to make sure she wasn’t imagining it, but as her eyes adjusted, she knew it was really there.
She crossed the room and stared at it. It was huge and very old, and it looked like it was from another time entirely. It had a big knocker, and it looked like it weighed a ton. Miranda looked behind her, suddenly aware that she was in a strange place and she hadn’t locked the door. She looked back to the one in front of her and reached for the handle.
Just open it and see what’s inside, then you can get yourself to bed, she thought. She was frightened that a vagrant may be lurking behind it, ready to pounce out on her in the night and stab her in her sleep. She breathed in deeply and pulled down hard. The handle moved and the door began to creep open. A blast of icy air hit her and she stepped forward, peering into the darkness. She couldn’t see anything in front of her, and it was like the world had stopped existing right there in that tiny corner of the room, behind the big olden door.
“Hello?” she whispered, expecting to be able to tell where the closet began and ended, but her voice drifted off, as if carried by the wind. She took another step, her feet connecting with ice cold ground. And then another. And then all of a sudden the floor seemed to give way beneath her and she was falling through black and white flashing space. She tried to scream… But there was no sound.
5.
She could smell the crisp burning of wood, and a fire crackled near her. She wasn’t cold anymore and wherever she was was comfortable and warm. She could hear a woman’s voice, soft and different to any she had ever heard before. She had an accent. She was talking about horses and the king. Miranda pulled the fluffy sheets around her and buried her head into the pillow.
What is happening…? she thought. Her head was pounding, and she reached up and touched a lar
ge bump on her forehead.
“She’s awake,” the woman’s voice came closer. “Look, she moves.”
She sounded British or Australian, but Miranda couldn’t decide which. The accent wasn’t a classic one that she had heard before and as she blinked and opened her eyes slowly, her blood ran cold.
“It’s alright,” the woman said, leaning towards her, “Don’t worry, dear, you’re safe here.”
Miranda jumped up and looked around the room. She was in old bedroom, stone walls and floor, covered in wolf pelt rugs, and a fire crackled and glowed in the corner, casting shadows across the room. The woman could only have been around forty, but she looked frail and strange. Her hair tumbled down her back, and she wore old robes, like something out of a strange medieval TV show. She came closer to Miranda and rested her hand on her arm and smiled. Her teeth were gammy and jet black.
“What’s happening?” Miranda shouted, as she pulled the sheet tightly around her. She realized she was dressed in a long cotton robe with frilled cuffs.
“You’ve had an accident, dear,” she said, “You were found out in the woods by the one of the King’s Knights.”
“What?” she demanded. “Is this a joke… did Ryan put you up to this?” She tried to get to her feet and stumbled as she did.
“Shh,” the woman said, crowding over her and trying to get her back into bed. “You need to rest, you’ve had a trauma to the head.”
Miranda reached up and rubbed her forehead, the lump there was swollen and sore. She winced as she touched it and the woman slapped her hand away.
“I’m one of the King’s nurses,” she said, “I’ve been instructed to look after you.”
“I… come on…” Miranda said. “You can drop the act… Just let me out and I’ll go back and see Ryan… leaving him in my apartment was silly, anyway.”
The woman looked at her as if she were insane. She shook her head and passed her some warm water.
“Close your eyes,” she whispered, “I’m going to find him.”
She left Miranda in the bed and made her way to the door, and when she opened it Miranda could see a man on the other side wearing what she thought was a full chain mail suit and brandishing a sword as if he was guarding the room. Miranda looked around again… she definitely was not in the motel… where had the door taken her? It was as if she had gone back in time.
Moments later, she heard footsteps coming up the corridor outside the room. She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep.
“She’s very confused,” the woman’s voice drifted through. “She is saying things, strange things… Are you sure she isn’t a witch?”
A man laughed and began to speak, “No, she isn’t a witch,” he said calmly, “I remember her, she’s a good friend from my childhood. Now let me in, I must speak with her.”
The door to the room opened and a tall, handsome man with sandy blonde hair and full metal armor stepped through the doorway.
“Miranda,” he said softly, “You’re awake.”
She sat up and swallowed. She was frightened and didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t want to anger anyone with the wrong thing… And the more she was seeing of her new surroundings, the more she wasn’t sure if this was real… No hoax could be this good, especially one crafted by Ryan.
“I found you in the woods,” he said as he sat on the side of the bed and trailed a finger down the side of her face. “I never thought I’d see you again.” He smiled at her, and she felt instantly warm inside. There was something familiar about him… But she was certain she could never have seen him before.
“How do you know my name?” she whispered.
“You’re hurt,” he said as he squeezed her hand, “But don’t worry, I’m here to look after you, as is Githa,” he smiled to the lady with the black teeth, and she nodded in agreement.
“Who are you?” she asked quietly.
He smiled warmly and brushed a lone tear from the side of her eye, “I’m so glad they brought you back to me,” he whispered, “I’ve been quite lost without you.”
He rose to his feet and bowed to her before walking towards the door.
“I hope you feel much better tomorrow m’lady. We can become reacquainted then,” he said before he left the room and closing the door behind him.
Miranda’s head was spinning… What on earth was happening? Was she dreaming? She pinched her arm with her nails and jumped as she realized her French manicure was gone and her nails were now bare, ragged stumps.
“He thinks the absolute world of you,” Githa smiled. “You’re lucky to have him, even after all these years.”
Miranda sank down in the bed and found that she was shaking silently. She had no idea what was happening… But whoever the man in armor was, he was certainly making it better…
6.
Githa sat by her side all night while Miranda lay and pretended to sleep. She was sure that at some point one of the people that came in and out of the room, bringing fresh water and clothing would mess up and the whole thing would be revealed as an elaborate plan. But they didn’t. And the more time that passed, the more Miranda began to believe it. She had somehow gone back in time when she stepped through the door at the motel. However unbelievable it sounded, she just knew that she was in another time.
The man in the armor… She knew she had seen him before, but she just couldn’t place him. He was so handsome, he could have been a movie star, and the whole night, as she lay there, he was the only thing on her mind.
When dawn arrived, so did her sense of confidence. She rose from the bed, stretched and decided to play her new acquaintances at their own game.
“Good morning, Githa,” she smiled as she got to her feet. “I’m feeling so much better today,” she reached for a cup of water and took a sip. It had a strange taste to it; it didn’t seem clean. She reluctantly gulped and set the cup back down.
“You must dress and meet with Sir Caine,” Githa said as she hurried up to her and began to unlace the back of the nightgown. “I have your robes for you.”
Miranda lifted out her arms and let her do what she had to do. She was still confused, but she was looking forward to getting the hell out of that dark, smoky room and seeing Caine again.
***
As she walked through the corridors of the castle, her heart raced. She really was in some medieval world, and the people in it seemed to think she was someone important. Luxurious tapestries hung from the walls and the guards escorted her along the stone walkways as if she were some kind of queen. Githa had dressed her in ornate royal blue dress robes and her hair seemed to have grown by ten inches overnight. It hung in soft waves right down her back and skimmed her waist, and the weight under it was intense. With each minute she seemed to spend in her new surroundings, the more normal they became. She still had the overwhelming sense of familiarity, even while wandering the castle. Common sense told her that she never could have seen this place before, but there was something about it that was stuck at the back of her mind, as if she had lived there once before.
The guards came to a stop outside a high wooden door, much like the one she had seen in the corner of the motel room, and her skin prickled. They parted and another set of guards flanking the door stepped aside to let her move forward.
“Sir Caine waits inside for you m’lady,” one of the guards said before they all moved back as not to crowd her.
Miranda lifted her arm, and her wrist and hand were exposed from the long, swooping sleeves of her dress. She curled her fist and wrapped lightly on the door, once, twice.
“Enter,” the voice came from inside. It was him, she could tell, even after only seeing him once.
One of the guards opened the door for her, and Miranda stepped inside. The room was fabulous, like something out of a fantasy. Ahead of her were open doors leading out onto a balcony and long, flowing curtains were being blown in by a gentle breeze. The sunlight that shone in made the stone floor look gold and it matched the luxurious fa
brics and paintings that adorned the room. Big velvet chairs flanked either side of the fireplace and gilded mirrors hung above it. She stepped further inside and jumped as she realized Sir Caine was out on the balcony and looking back in at her.
“Good morning,” he said quietly, “You look ravishing.”
Miranda felt herself blushing and she moved forward and took a seat. She hoped he would come and join her but he stayed still, silently watching her with a little amused smile.
“Sir Caine…” she began, “What year is this?”
He bit his bottom lip and studied her.
“I know,” he said, “I can’t believe it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other either. What, it must be, ten years?” He moved closer.
“Must be…” she played, “What year was the last time?”
“I believe it was 1066, I remember because it was before the great battle,” he said as he shook his head, “I don’t know how I’ve lived without you for so long.”
Her skin began to tingle… that made the year 1076…
“Tell me what happened,” she said, “When you found me in the woods?”
He shook his head and came inside, crossing the room and sitting down opposite her.
“You were just lying there… strange clothes… unconscious… as if you had just dropped from the sky,” he looked off into space. “It was… fate… for me to be there, I mean.”
“Where are those clothes?” she asked.
“My men burned them,” he said. “They feared witchcraft. Strange happenings go on in those woods, and I was scared for you.”
Miranda looked down at her feet, remembering studying something in college about how fucked up medieval times were when it came to witches. The last thing she wanted was them to accuse her of that.
SCAR (LOST CREEK SHIFTERS NOVELLAS Book 2) Page 8