From Setting Sun to Morning Light (standard:horror, 2698 words)
Author: Cloud Strife	Added: Jul 30 2003	Views/Reads: 3708/2782	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The strange tale of a woman running a bed and breakfast who is receiving orders to kill her guests from a mysterious figure known simply as George

From Setting Sun to Morning Light 

By Christopher McCarthy 

Anne shuffled slowly into the spacious and well-lit kitchen, got her
milk and sugar and put on the kettle for tea to help wake her up fully 
like she did every morning at a quarter to six.  In fact you could 
almost set your watch by the woman.  She was out of bed every day of 
the week, rain or shine at half past five to fix breakfast for herself 
and George and afterwards she would make breakfast for her guests, if 
there were any. 

Her home was a large Bed and Breakfast on Penchard Street in South
London called ‘From Setting Sun to Morning Light'.  When people asked 
her about the name she told them that she called it this because the 
sun shone into the house so beautifully and brightly late every evening 
and again early every morning giving the place a magnificent golden 
glow which illuminated the entire house and made it seem very cosy and 
relaxing.  It certainly was a very nice place to stay in for a few 
days.  Anne loved running the Bed and Breakfast because even though she 
had to work hard everyday cooking meals for the guests, cleaning up 
after them and keeping the house in good order she loved the old house 
dearly and it did not feel like real work to her anyway.  It was her 
life.  All of the rooms were elegantly decorated, extremely neat and 
Anne was also a fine cook. She looked after her guests well and it 
never ceased to amaze them how she managed to keep the large place in 
such a fine condition.  It was quite a feat for a sixty-four year old 
woman and George was never any help to her at all either around the 
house or with the guests.  He entered the kitchen just as Anne was 
arranging the table for breakfast. 

“Morning George”, she called over to him while taking a sip of her tea. 
“Good morning to you Anne my dear”, he answered heartily.  He seemed in 
very high spirits this morning she noticed.  “I'll fix us something to 
eat now”, she said, “and then I'll start on our guests”.  “How many do 
we have today George?  My memory isn't quite what it used to be”.  
“Well”, he answered, “there is that young couple Helen and Steve Byrne, 
down from Glasgow for the weekend staying in room two, there's another 
couple in room three and that quiet threesome of ladies over from 
Germany in room five”.  “Breakfast for seven it is then.  I'd better 
get started with the days work soon”, she said and finished her 
breakfast. 

A few hours later, after she had killed the couple from Glasgow she
enjoyed a nice ham and cheese sandwich.  It had been a right chore 
getting rid of those two but luckily Anne had a lot of practice with 
that sort of thing.  She had quite liked the young couple, they had 
seemed like very nice people and happy together.  She had wanted to let 
them live but George had insisted that they die.  This had been stated 
implicitly leaving no room for questioning his decision.  She had 
however tried in vain to argue and plead about it with George but 
predictably in the end as with all the other times this had occurred he 
had gotten his way so Anne had killed for him again. 

She had been watching room two closely for most of the afternoon waiting
for one of the couple to leave until finally the husband Steve did 
leave the room. As he made his way out Anne who had been in her sitting 
room busy with a crossword heard him call to his wife that he would be 
back in about ten minutes.  This gave her more than enough time to 
murder his wife.  She was soon knocking on the door of room two and 
entered cautiously carrying new sheets for the bed in both hands.  
Underneath these sheets she held a hammer. Helen was just coming out of 
the bathroom as Anne entered the room and was about to utter a greeting 
when the first blow landed.  It was mistimed and so had not found its 
intended mark.  It glanced of the side of Helen's head leaving a nasty 
but shallow cut.  Helen fell back against the wall clutching her head 
and was too stunned by what was happening to react to the situation so 
Anne was able to repeatedly smash her head with the hammer until the 
whole place was a mess of blood and small fragments of skull.  Anne 
then crouched down behind the door and waited for Steve's arrival.  She 
did not have to wait for him very long. 

He was stunned by the gruesome scene that he encountered on entering the
room and so of course did not notice the old woman sneaking up behind 
him.  He burst into tears just before the hammer crashed into the back 


Click here to read the rest of this story (153 more lines)