by B. Groves
Her mind flashed back to that night. All she’d wanted was some water, and in turn, she stumbled onto a crime scene. One where she almost became their next victim.
Or so she thought.
When the state troopers returned and asked her if she was on drugs, Lacey was stunned.
They said that Foxworth House had been abandoned for years and that they searched up and down but never turned up any bodies or any man resembling Lacey’s description.
Lacey felt the tears burn her eyes as she thought of how humiliated she was that night.
But, she knew what she saw and when she’d been ready, she and Scott had done some research.
In 1983, a woman covered in white paint and blood escaped from Foxworth House and managed to run onto the highway and flag down a motorist.
Police arrived and went to investigate the woman’s claims about bodies hanging from the rafters in a barn at a bed and breakfast off the road.
Silas Stillwell, killed one of the state troopers and a standoff ensued.
Silas Stillwell was eventually taken down and his mother—Nancy Stillwell—was arrested and sent to prison. Scott and Lacey found out that Nancy died in prison in 2002.
Lacey’s breath caught in her throat the first time she saw the picture of mother and son.
Nancy knew her son had severe mental issues, but she did everything in her power to protect him and even helped him with his crimes.
After her son had been released from a mental facility, Nancy planned her son’s return. She knew that mental facility couldn’t keep her son from killing again, so she bought Foxworth House, turned into a bed and breakfast for weary travelers who needed rest and a good meal.
To satiate her son’s thirst for blood, she would choose the victims and she convinced Silas to never touch the people behind the doors marked with a white “X.”
They would hide the victim’s vehicles and incinerate the bodies. It worked well for years until Nancy made a mistake. A mistake that would turn their lives around forever. She’d forgotten to mark an X one a guest’s door.
Lacey found an interview with Nancy Stillwell on a Youtube video. It was only a clip, but Nancy’s words chilled Lacey to her core.
“My son and I had a deal. He would protect our business from intruders, keep the place neat and clean, and only do his deeds after ten o’clock. In turn, I gave him his victim and cooked him for him later.”
Nancy looked straight into the camera and said, “But my boy never hurt no woman. I wouldn’t let him. He was taught from a young age to respect women. I only forgot to mark her room, but it was too late.”
Lacey stopped the video and looked down at her chest remembering the splash of white paint.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Scott asked as they approached the exit.
Lacey nodded. “Yes. I need to figure out what happened.”
Scott and Lacey researched more than just the Foxworth House case. They were never really believers in the paranormal, but how did Lacey witness a crime that happened over thirty years ago?
Everyone else thought she was crazy. But Lacey turned to her husband and was eternally grateful that he believed her.
“We’ve been married for eight years, and I’ve never seen that kind of look on your face,” Scott said later after he arrived at the rest stop.
Lacey swallowed hard and drew in a deep breath when Scott made the turn onto the road to Foxworth House.
Lacey tried to hide her fear. She knew there was nothing to fear but the memories were still fresh in her mind and she couldn’t shake them until she knew for sure she hadn’t been going insane.
Lacey not only wanted closure from that horrible place, but she left her bag and cell phone there. She didn’t dare ask the state trooper to retrieve it out of humiliation.
Lacey squeezed Scott’s hand as he turned onto the last road.
Lacey closed her eyes trying to catch her breath and try to keep her wits about her.
She opened them again and caught a glimpse of the barn to her left, and when she turned her head, the darkened house loomed in front of them.
She hadn’t noticed that night that part of the roof had caved in, and there was graffiti covering parts of the house.
Lacey sucked in a breath when she recognized the two abandoned cars on the night she checked in.
“What was the room number?” Scott asked.
“Two,” Lacey answered trying to keep her voice steady. “It was to the left of the office, near that car.”
Scott pulled up next to the abandoned car. The car had since rusted out with the tires flattened and the windows were broken out.
“Is this the car you first saw?”
“Yes.”
Lacey turned her gaze forward and spotted her room. The door was closed with the number “2” hanging by one screw.
It wasn’t coming off that night, she thought. The number was straight.
Lacey felt the reassuring squeeze of her hand and she turned to smile at her husband.
“Let’s go,” Lacey said.
The couple exited the car. The brisk air blew around them, and the only noise was the rustling of the dead leaves from the wind.
Scott gazed around. “This place had to be really nice at one time.”
“I couldn’t see much in the dark, but it must have been,” Lacey answered.
Lacey and Scott made their way to the former office, and while Lacey peered inside the smudged window, her breath caught in her throat.
The same furniture sat quietly among ruins from the ceiling caving in, and debris was thrown around. She saw more graffiti on the inside and wondered if the door was unlocked.
Lacey placed her hand on the knob and swallowed. She turned the knob and the door creaked open.
“You better stay out of there, the roof collapsed,” Scott said.
Lacey ignored him as her eyes honed in on the desk. There she spotted the guest book.
Stepping over pieces of ceiling, wood, and torn furniture, Lacey reached the guest book.
The elements had disintegrated some of the pages over the years, and as Lacey lifted the book, some other worn pages fell to the floor.
She only needed one page and it was front and center. Her name, the date, and the time crystal clear.
Lacey closed her eyes and tried to push back the memories of what she witnessed that night. She tried to deny it really happened and tried to deny that she’d witnessed a historical event, but her name written in the old guestbook.
Scott walked into the office carrying Lacey’s bag in one hand, and her cell phone in another.
“You were right, they were right where you said,” Scott commented. “The cell phone is dead.”
Lacey gazed at her belongings. “Were the mannequins in the next room?”
“I didn’t see any mannequins.”
Lacey nodded and held out the book. Scott stepped closer and read Lacey’s name and the date.
Scott read the other names. “Did you realize your name is exactly one year apart from the last guest on here?”
Lacey nodded. “I realized it as I was driving away after Nancy let me go.”
Scott inhaled deeply. “Weird.”
Lacey stopped and eyed her husband. “What do you think happened, Scott? I mean you heard Nancy Stillwell yourself over the phone.”
Scott ran a hand over his face. “I don’t think we’ll ever know, Lacey. The only thing I can think of—”
Scott and Lacey turned towards the door where they spotted a state trooper pulling into the driveway.
“Shit,” Scott muttered.
“We better go,” Lacey said placing the book back on the desk.
The couple walked out of the building as the state trooper exited his car.
He was a tall older man with short gray hair and a clean-shaven face.
The officer nodded to the couple and said, “Good morning, folks. Are you aware that you’re trespassing on private property?”
/> “I’m sorry, officer,” Scott opened his mouth and closed it trying to think of a good story. “We heard about the tragedy here while we were driving and thought we’d stop by and check it out.”
The trooper scoffed and laughed lightly. “Y’all ghost hunters or somethin’? Cause the owner doesn’t like that kind of stuff on her property.”
“No, officer,” Lacey took a deep breath as Scott shook his head, but she didn’t listen. “Four months ago,” Lacey explained. “I stopped here because we were having that freak snowstorm and I swear this place was still up and running like any other hotel along the highway.”
Lacey laughed at her own stupidity when the officer didn’t respond. “I know it sounds crazy. I purchased the room from the owner, and when I went to get some ice a man tried to attack me—”
The officer held up his hand. “Ma’am, you don’t have to explain anymore. I’ve heard that story a dozen times ever since old Silas and Nancy were taken down.”
Lacey and Scott looked at each other with dropped mouths.
“Are you telling us the truth or pulling our leg?” Scott asked.
“No,” the officer removed his sunglasses and Lacey was struck by the seriousness of his eyes and facial expressions. “Seems those two don’t want to rest in peace and now beyond the grave, they still search for victims.”
Lacey’s eyebrows lifted. “But, Nancy told me I was safe. She splashed white paint on me.”
Without a word, the officer walked past Lacey and Scott and stood in front of one of the doors to the rooms.
“Look closely.”
Scott and Lacey peered at one of the doors. Lacey gasped when she saw the “X” painted over on the doors.
“I was fresh out of the academy when Nancy and Silas were claiming their victims,” the officer commented with a shake of his head. “Nancy would make Silas spare mostly women if she liked them.” The officer turned and smiled at Lacey. “Even beyond the grave, she liked you.”
A chill ran down Lacey’s spine. She couldn’t listen to more stories about Nancy and Silas Stillwell. She shook her head trying to forget the memories that came creeping back on her.
“Well, thank you, officer,” Lacey said. “We’re sorry for the trespass.”
The officer shrugged. “I’ll inform the owner it was harmless. Have a safe trip home.”
Lacey and Scott thanked the officer. Lacey was shaken by what the officer had told them, but it also gave her some peace knowing she hadn’t been going insane after all.
As they left Foxworth House, a thought occurred to Lacey.
“Thank God that cop was nice to us,” Lacey said. “We didn’t get his name though.”
Scott turned onto the highway and frowned. “You know, I don’t remember seeing a name tag for that state trooper.”
Lacey and Scott looked at each other in confusion but dismissed their thoughts as just adrenaline from their visit to Foxworth House and the officer showing up.
Chapter 10
The officer watched the nice couple drive away.
He turned back to Foxworth House and let his eyes drift to the second-floor window.
Two dark figures appeared. He smiled and tipped his hat at them.
“Never thought that would happen, Mama,” he said with a short laugh. “You marked her safe, so who am I to argue?”
The man then walked over to the barn. He unlocked the padlock and walked inside.
The stale hay smell hit him, but he preferred another smell.
He walked up the stairs and entered the loft and grinned.
In the corner, a woman was tied to a pole with a handkerchief stuffed in her mouth.
Her hair stuck out everywhere, and mascara ran down her face from crying.
Her eyes widened in terror when she saw the man come up from the stairs and tried to struggle out of her bonds.
The man put up his hands in question. “What can I do? Mama marked her safe, but not you.”
The End
About the Author
It has been my passion to write good stories since I was handed my first Nancy Drew book at the age of ten. I’ve been writing stories and imagining other worlds since I read that first book, and I was determined to publish those stories one day.
I was born in a small town (truth) in southern New Jersey. Where there’s only 1 traffic light, an ice cream shop, and a post office run by an old lady who still thinks I’m twelve when I visit home.
While in high school, I found a love of historical romance novels. Sneaking them around my teachers and parents. I got caught once and had the book taken away from me for the rest of the day. I was sent home with a note, and my mom shocked me when she said she was happy I was reading and didn’t care what it was.
I have the greatest husband and supporter in the world. He has a love of books like me, but he would never touch romance. Except! He reads all of my writing giving me critical feedback. How awesome is that?
I hope you join me on this journey through my personal twilight zone. You never know where you may go. I love writing dark fiction (In real life, I’m a goofball and I do a wicked imitation of Dean Winchester from Supernatural) about the dark side of humanity with paranormal elements, suspense, and romance in the mix. I love strong heroes and even stronger heroines.
Thanks for reading!!