The Dark Skinned Girl with Jet Black Hair

You turn away from your reflection with some ****. You look a lot like a younger curvier version of Whitney Houston. If you’ve got it, flaunt it, has always been your motto. As a nurse, you hoped it would land you a handsome doctor, but so far no luck.

You are only on this stupid bus because you wanted to visit your sister and got a great last minute deal.

You mutter to yourself. “Susanne, you get what you pay for.”

You pick up your cell phone, hoping to call your mom in French Cameroon. It has no reception.

You sigh and walk outside.

The castle is about a twenty minute hike. Your hands and ears are freezing despite your warm parka. The door to the castle looks ominous. The bus driver yanks on the door. It swings open with a loud creak.

It is dark and cold. Fortunately, it is a good deal warmer than outside.

You walk into a large common area a pair of ornately carved stone staircases head the upstairs. On the opposite side of the room is a large fireplace. Broken pieces of wooden furniture lay about.

The bus driver gathers a bunch up and pulls out a lighter. The old dry wood catches fire quickly and you warm yourself in front of the fire. You can stay here, or go exploring one of many possible directions.