Chapter 1

Addie pulled up at the Belladonna Hotel. It was well out of the way, she thought to herself. An odd place for an interview, but Mr Nevers had insisted. And then, as if this weren't strange enough, he asked her to dress so that nobody would recognise her. Addie was a reporter for a local newspaper. Outside of her own small town, she doubted very much whether anyone would recognise the name of Addie Dolan. So why on earth would he ask her to come in disguise? If it had been any other interviewee, Addy would have refused these demands outright. But Jacob Nevers wasn't just any man. He was the one man in the entire world who could settle the questions which were going around in Addie's mind. For five years now, Addie had been deeply involved in researching the Brookerton Murders.

The Brookerton Murders were a set of three killings that had transpired over the course of two days in June 1959 in a sleepy village in Northern England. The victims had been dispatched so violently, Addie had thought when she saw the crime scene photos. And yet, the only place where Addie had been able to find mention of them was in the local village newspaper, which dropped the piece immediately after just 2 weeks, with no viable suspects. The only survivor had been a man named James Tankerville, whose wife, baby daughter and neighbour were murdered. He was recorded as being admitted to a mental asylum a week after the murders and then nothing. No record of death, no record of residence, nothing. At the time, Addie had presumed that he had died through neglect, a common occurrence in asylums at the time, and had covered up his death. And then, just a few weeks ago, she had come across an article on the Internet, reporting the death of James Tankerville. So many questions rushed through her mind. Who had erased James' record? And why?

She had thought, a touch disheartened, that this was the end of her inquiry. But then that mysterious message was left on her answering machine.
"Hello. Is this Addie Dolan? I understand you're researching the Brookerton murders. First of all, I've got some friendly advice for you: stop. You're messing with something you can't possibly understand and you will put yourself in the greatest danger in trying to. But then, I'm betting there's nothing I can say to deter you. I'm betting you're thinking to yourself as you're listening to this that you've come too far to turn back now. Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you. If you still want to known about the murders, I'm staying at the Belladonna Hotel in Southwold, Suffolk. Do not bring anyone, do not tell anyone and disguise yourself so that your own mother couldn't recognise you. And please, for the sake of other curious people like yourself, destroy this message immediately.

And so, after Addie had obeyed those bizarre instructions, here she was. The place was a large black, ramshackle building, and, judging from the number of cars outside, had not seen occupants for a long time, save her interviewee of course. With not a little apprehension, she entered. She came to the lobby, obviously thick with dust and decay. The carpet she stood on was faded and worn and it was evident that the cleaning service here left a lot to be desired. There was a small, frail, elderly woman behind the desk, looking somewhat surprised to have a guest. Addie smiled as she approached her.
"Hello. My name's Addie Dolan. I'm here to see Jacob Nevers." said Addie.
"Room 12B" said the woman, in the most montonone voice Addie had ever heard. "Up the stairs and on the left."
"Thank you" Addie said, ascending the stairs as fast as she could in order to avoid the scrutiny of the woman.

The first floor was in an even worse state of disrepair than the first. There was no carpet to speak off and the little light offered by the flickering celiing lights revealed huge gaps in the floorboards. Luckily for Addie, Room 13B was the first on the corridor. She knocked on the door, a little hesitantly.

"Who is it?", the gruff voice from the message asked.
"It's Addie Nolan. You left me a message on my answering machine." She answered nervously.
"Ah, yes. Come in."
She turned the rusted handle and, with a great push, let herself into the room. The smell of damp, rot and decay assaulted her nostrils immediately. She gasped and staggered back a little.
"My apologies about the smell" said Jacob Nevers.
Having taken in the terrible smell emanating from the room, Addie now took a look at the man she was interviewing and the room in which he lived. He was young, no more than thirty, she guessed. But his hair was white as a sheet. He wore jeans and a blue jacket over a red t-shirt, but he looked as though he had been wearing these same clothes for several years.

Old food packages were strewn across the floor, as well as bits of paper. A complete mess.
"I am sorry about the mess. I know it's a very different setting from what you're used to." Jacob said at length.
"Yes, I was intrigued by your message, particularly the security measures you insisted upon." Addie replied.
"You can never be too careful", he said gravely. "Particularly where this is concerned." he said, tapping a book on his lap.
"What is that?" asked Addie curiously.
"This is why you're here" said Jacob, he said handing her the book.
"But, I thought I was doing an interview." Addie said, completely bewildered.
He shook his head, a certain edge in his behaviour now. "No." he said definitely. "Words could be overheard. You're in danger even being here."
"Why am I in danger?" , she asked, a prickle crawling up her spine.
He motioned to the book, to indicate that she could answer her question by reading it.
"If it's so dangerous, why would you meet me at all?" she asked, her voice breaking with fear.
"Because I've not got long left and someone else needs to known what I know." he said seriously.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you ill?, asked Addie, her voice now full of compassion for the slightly odd stranger.
"No. I'm a hunted man, Miss Doran. And my times up. James didn't die of his own accord y'see. He was helped. And now I'm going to be helped too" said Jacob, very matter-of-factly.
"Have you contacted the police?" asked Addie, now genuinely scared. But he shook his head.
"Police can't help me. Not for what hunts me, anyway." he grimaced. "Now, Miss Dolan. You have a lot of reading to do. And you may not have much time. But hide it. Tell no-one you've been here. Don't tell anyone about the book. Don't show it to anyone. And most of all, be careful. But, thank you for coming. For all I said not to, I needed to give the book to someone.

And so Addie left the hotel room, without the promised interview, with a hefty book under her arm. And as she started the ignition on her car, she began to wonder if she wasn't starting down a path which it would be impossible to walk back from.

Reviews

[DaughterNature]

I don't know - I'm hoping you've got a good idea here, but it's so hard to tell at this point. Some little things - like, is it room 12B or 13B?

And lots of bigger things. A good 'rule' I've learned is to nix the verb "to be" as often as possible. In descriptive narration, constant repetition of the word "was" makes things feel very passive, slow, and drab. Dialogue: it's absolutely the most difficult thing about writing prose, but you need to sit down and think carefully about each character and how he/she would respond to different circumstances, what dialect they favor, what specific words are they more or less likely to use? The most important 'big thing' I have for you as a note on this is narrative diction. Right now it feels a little contrived (I know you're trying, of course), but good narrative should feel effortless. What does it sound like when you read it out loud? Should the exposition go in a different place, be reworded, or be lost altogether? Just some interesting notes.

I thought of another 'little thing': I know you're trying to create suspense and the icky feelings associated with horror, but try to get a little more creative than just mold, mildew, and old carpets.

Cheers!

[bob, small b. aka invs]

this is an excellent beginning. it piques the curiosity without giving anything away and the plot is original. i'd be happy reading more. well done.