Greythorne Manor III

●●●Parlor Room●●●

Elizabeth Thorrin snapped her fingers for the third time before sighing in resignation, her gaze pitifully looking at her master's pale countenance. A rosy smile came upon her face as she noticed the loose strands of hair in his dirt cached face. She brought her hand to wipe it away gently before caressing his cheeks.

She thought of the times her master had brought women after women to the manor, a defense mechanism he had developed stemming from the fact that his mother had left him at an early age. Although at first she was more than willing to help him dress his bimbos after the fact or even turn them down gently in the morning after they inevitably fall in love with him but, over the time, it started to ache somewhere she doesn't want it to. It wasn't love, no; it was not. Love is the farthest thing she had for her beloved master. Nobody who knew of his persona would fall in love with someone like Richard Greythorne IV, but still, something about him had captivated the young maid.

"Hmmm... sucker punch lady... that's a latte... bitch."

Elizabeth was startled as her master began to rouse from his slumber, straightening up as she waited for his eventual awakening. Her smile turned perfunctory as she straightened her outfit. She was wearing the same French maid that her master had forced her to wear. Short frilly skirt, an apron, black stockings, mob cap, and to a sleeveless shirt that showed too much cleavage to her taste, but her master had bought it just for her. A master who pays her and her mother a hundred thousand dollars a year, so complaining was the last thing in her mind; plus, leers and knowing smirks whenever she bows are the farthest thing her master had done to her.

"Elizabeth." Her mother's voice brought her from her musings as she turned around and saw her disapproving gaze. "Handle lady Annalise and make sure her and her friends stay in the room and, possibly, asleep."

"Of course, mother," Ella gave one last look to her master before walking out of the room.

"Elizabeth," Mrs. Thorrin caught her daughter by the hem of her shirt. "It would be best if you would soon forget about your little crush on him."

"Your advice is duly noted, mother."

"Don't be stubborn, daughter. Accept the gift and live a life with me." Mrs. Thorrin pleaded to her daughter, knowing full well that she will not survive the night lest she accept the gift.

"I'll think about it, mother."

"It's best you do, my love."

Elizabeth nodded before leaving the room, leaving Mrs. Thorrin gazing at the young master that would soon awaken.

"Now, how did you survive?" She muttered as she closed the door and locked it.

●●●●●●

"What? What?" Irwin roused from his sleep, groggy and pained by the unceasing headache. Seeing his new surroundings, his gaze frantically darted around the room. He soon saw the strange yet familiar figure of the governess.

"Good evening, young master." The woman greeted, yet Irwin could not help but note the tone to which she spoke, a bristle of gentle anger. "How's your head?"

"Felt like I cracked a rock with my head, but I'm gonna be fine... uh... uh..." Irwin snapped his finger thrice, misplacing the name of the creepy governess of the manor before finding it deep within the recess of his mind. "Eleanor. Crap, yep, it's, uh, worse than I thought?"

Eleanor Thorrin hummed in agreement before walking forward, closing in on Irwin with steady yet anxious steps. "I find it odd that you survived the encounter, young master, and odder that you came out of it unscathed."

"What? Oh, yeah. Miracle and all that," Irwin shook his head, internally cursing the system for overloading his brain that made him misplace some of the recent memory pack. "Umm, hey. Weird request, but my eyes hurt a bit. Can you, like, check on it? Just touch it, see if there's a bump?"

Eleanor raised a brow at his request. Although familiar with his young master's bawdy proclivities, this one was quite weird, but she agreed nonetheless. Eleanor walks nearer as she pressed two fingers against the ridges of his eyes.

On Irwin's side, however, was a spectacle of wonder as he watched as the windowed message pass by Eleanor, half of the message visible while the other hidden by her body.

"Alright. Cool. Now, El. I'm gonna need you to do something for me and, please, for the love of god--"

Boom!

"Don't make it weird."

●●●Main Hall●●●

Overlooking the brass staircase that leads up to the open-faced second floor, Agent Spears stared at the marbled bust in front of him as he tried to call a guy whose knowledge of the supernatural matched no one else he knew. Well, granted that he knows few too many people, seeing as he's a total newbie in the hunting business.

Tick!

"Willis. FBI. what do ya want?" A grumpy voice came out of Garth's flip phone.

"Oh, hey. It's me. Just wanted to ask a few questions about a hunt I'm on," Spears replied. A goofy smile on his face. "Do you know anyone with the name... DJ Squall?"

"What? Who is this?"

"Oh, it's me, Bobby."

"Who? Look, who--- you are, you got th---rong number." The man said before hanging up.

"Okay..." Spears scratched his brow before trying again.

Click!

"The next time you call me, I'll shoot you in the nuts.--"

"Wait, wait, wait. Bobby, it's me. Garth! You know--Garth."

"Garth? Tooth Fairy?"

"Yep, Tooth Fairy."

"what do ya want then?"

"I'm on a hunt. Lisbon Valley. Reports of animal attacks. Figured it must be--"

"Werewolves. No, you idjit. Do-- ---- me ---- ----thorne?" Sharp ringing sound echoed off the phone as Spears, or Garth as he had introduced himself, tried to find a signal in the manor.

Cursing the rain for interrupting his call, Garth tried to figure out Bobby's static-y voice. "Alright. DO you hear me?"

"Lea--- dangerous. The Grey---- are a were---- nest. Balls! Get out--- I'll call---- help."

Click!

The call suddenly died, which irritated Garth. The worsening storm had not only trapped him in a manor of werewolves, but also prevented him from gaining much needed information. But, on the good side, reinforcement will be showing up, though he didn't know when. "Well, might as well get some cake before I die."

"I can help with that," replied a graceful voice. Startling Garth as he turned around and saw a young maid in a skimpy yet graceful outfit. "The dessert, not the death. If you'd like, there's a strawberry shortcake in the kitchen."

Garth's face elicited a grin as he made his way to the kitchen. "Oooh, yummy."

●●●Parlor Room●●●

[Please Confirm For System Activation]

Irwin, or as the men had called him, Richard, stared at the messages hidden deep within his sight. The windows, through a series of experimentation with the maid, are only visible to him, even with his eyes close, and, while intangible, influencing it needs mental commands. A fact that had him sigh in relief, for he was in an incredibly peculiar situation and people calling him crazy would be detrimental to figuring out this world he was in.

"--some tea?" A silky voice brought him out of his reverie. His gaze training over the young, curvaceous woman in a French maid outfit, straight out of an echhi anime, held a silver tray over to him, a smoking crystal cup with a minty liquid atop the tray.

This fine lady is, or was, the maid of Richard. At least according to the sporadic memories he's been receiving. Well, she's his maid now. The thought of the woman being her as his maid brought a blush to Irwin's pale face. He ran his gaze up and down her body, eyeing her mousey brown hair styled into a short ponytail with a few strands of hair tucked between her ears. She stood at 5 foot 8 inches. Her fair skin complimented her freckled face and aquiline nose.

"N-No, thank you, Ella." Irwin stammered, cringing at his inability to talk to the pretty woman, yet a sudden surge of confidence pervaded his body. "But I'll take a smile seeing as I just witnessed something... oh, so horrible!"

Elizabeth snorted at him, shaking her head at his very unusual corny attempt at flirtation. "I think you're getting worse, Master Richard. But I'll let this slide this time. I am very sorry for what happened."

"Thanks, uh, and can you check up on my, uh, sister?" Irwin grimaced before sending her off as another memory parcel is being uploaded to his brain.

[Memory Pack #3 Uploading]

After seeing of the maid, he turned his attention towards the memory.

Much like the last time, it was like wading through murky waters. For every step he takes, mud would cache his foot, fallen branches would spear his body. Images of a gray-haired woman flashed before his eyes, welling up a complex emotion from within him. The woman's voice rang in his ears, entrancing him with her coos and tone. Irwin felt melancholic as he listened to her voice. Like he needed a warm embrace from her long-lost mother.

Irwin closed his eyes as he familiarized himself with the influx of information. Richard's mother had been gone for a long time, died from a freak accident. Although Irwin had a gut feeling that Richard knew of his mother's death, his soul's transition from body to body had dislocated almost all memories of Richard; leaving only the bare minimum for his successor, Irwin. But, thanks to the gift from the Entity Beyond Human Comprehension, the intermittent re-upload of missing memories had been bridging the gap between Irwin and his new world.

Right now, Irwin knew of his surviving family members: Archibald Greythorne III, his father and family patriarch, whose decision it was to travel from England to California; Annalise Greythorne, his lovable yet irascible sister, who was born out of a mysterious woman from a one-night stand of his father; Anastasia Greythorne, his paraplegic and weird aunt, wife to his uncle; Wallace Greythorne who hides a terrible sickness and is very adamant about the 'Gift'.

He had to admit that the Greythorne ensemble had an Addam's Family feel to them, specially from Wallace, whom, according to his memories, always wears gloves when dining and goes on an hour-long diatribe against his father. Mentioning something about honor, sacred duty, and London, England.

"Ok, Irwin, you need to fucking chill," Irwin calmed himself, wiping the involuntary tears from his eyes. "Prof. Giselle says that in an unfamiliar situation, first, one must organize all known information. Information. I have that. (A) I was dead; (B) I am now alive again; (C) I am not in my original body; (D) I am in a new body; (E) The body's name is Richard; (F) I woke up with no heart; (G) My heart grew again; (H) There was a dead body in the room and I'm suspect number one; (I) Dead body and suspect number one should probably be separate on the list; (J) DJ Quall... wait... was it Quall or Qualls? Jesus fuck, it doesn't matter. The guy in Citizen Z is pretending to be an FBI agent, badly at that; (K) There is a voice in my head that healed me and gave me some sort of system; (L) Said system needs confirmation for it to be activated; (M) This fucking creepy-ass family has some sort of secret and it's driving everyone crazy; (N) That girl earlier is really cute."

Now that the information sorted, he now needed to list them from least worrying to most probably would bite him in the ass.

"So, guesstimate: N, A, B, E, J, C, D, F, G, M, L, K, and H," Irwin sometimes wondered when he would outgrow the stupendous ideas he always followed, but seeing as he was, quite literally, in a new world, then he would wager that it'll probably take a rather long time. "Alright. Let's handle the system first."

Irwin willed forth the System Window, taking care not to draw any weird attention from Elizabeth, who was peeking from behind the double doors of the Parlor Room. Like the least stealthiest cat in the world, she had, through no fault of her own, deemed it not to heed Irwin's orders, and hid behind the doors, peeking in through the slot on the keyhole. Although surprised that he pinpointed her location, Irwin chalked it up to effects of the 2nd Phase of the Genesis Protocol- Potentiality Enhancement.

[Please Confirm For System Activation]

Confirm, he thought.

[System Confirmed]

[System Initialization...]

[System Initialized]

[Welcome, Host #0003, to the Great Hunter System]

Irwin snorted as he saw the simple launch of his system, figuring that the Entity Beyond Human Comprehension would opt for a more grand welcoming. "You think you know a guy, huh?"

Status or something, He thought.

[Character || Skill || Supernatural Record || Status || Quests (!) || Trade Shop]

Another window popped up, yet this one had a different format, more streamlined and had a nicer font. Which, in Irwin's mind, was a surprise, seeing as the Entity's previous work needed quite a lot of editing.

Each choice in the Menu, when picked, would pop up a corresponding window showcasing its various uses.

Character Window, Irwin thought.

[Name: Irwin Bellios / Sebastian Archibald Richard Greythorne IV

Age: 23

Race: Baneblood (Human)

Blood Type: O Negative

---

Level: 01

Job: Not Yet Selected

Last Hunt: None]

"Alright. This is so fucking cool!" Irwin browsed the window, training his attention towards his race.

Baneblood, he thought, never heard of that before.

[Baneblood: A new species of genetically enhanced humans with bloodlines of supernatural entities. They are, through a process called Blood Purge, removed of DNA that entwines them to their ancestors and, in exchange, given great strength, speed, and natural immunity to almost all affliction the supernatural entity have access to.]

[|Baneblood| is now available to browse in the Supernatural Record Window]

"Very cool, indeed." An excited chuckle came out of his mouth as he further scrutinized his new system. He never was much of a reader, often using audio books to help him concentrate on the more boring parts of the novels. But whenever he did read one, he always had a penchant for self-insert overpowered ones. His friend and confidant, Dr. Giselle, often calls him out on it, saying that his love for that genre of novels stemmed from the fact that he felt powerless in real life and that, through reading the novels, helps him escape the reality that he will never be anything more than an ordinary human being.

"Who's an ordinary human being now, bitch?" He cursed, but immediately regretting it for the good doctor had been truly a helpful and altruistic friend. "Sorry, 'bout that, Dr. G. Hope you're alright... wherever you are."

'Now, show me the money. I mean, show me Status.' He mentally commanded the system.

[Physical Status: Exhausted, but unharmed

Mental Status: State of wonder

---

Resistance/s: Werewolf Curse +50%; Poison +5%

Weakness/es:

---

Blessing/s: Touch of the Almighty

Curse/s:

Mark/s: ]

'Cool, cool, very cool. Now, what the fuck is that Werewolf curse thingy?'

[Werewolf Curse Resistance: Granted by the Blood Purge, it allows the host to resist the effects of a werewolf's bite. In most cases, the resistance would hinder the advancement of the curse, giving the host enough time to employ the antidote. High enough percentages could theoretically make the host immune to the Werewolf curse.]

"Wait... So if the Blood Purge... purged my bloodline of monster DNA then gave me immunity to it... did I- Am I a werewolf?"

"Hello?"

"Oh, c'mon. Give me a break."

Irwin sighed in frustration, seeing as his system did not answer his query. Although glad that he did not have a semi-sentient yet annoying type of system, he would be gladder to have some sort of guide. "Right. Forgot. No tutorials and all that. God dammit!"

Boom!

"Oh, shut up!" He wiped his loosely coiled hair back, thinking back to his encounter with the federal agent.

'How 'bout Quest? Why is it blinking with an exclamation mark?' He asks internally.

[Active Quest: 01!

Completed Quest: 00

Failed Quest: 00 ]

'Ok, so pretty simple. I like it,' He thought before mentally clicking on the pulsing button with an exclamation mark.

[Quest Name: Thorn In The Family

Quest Type: Rescue | System Reward

Quest Description: Every family has a dark secret that, if known, will ruin them, but your family? Well, let's just say your secret will not just ruin you, it will actively kill you. And you need to prevent that. Through context clues and memory packs, you know that someone in the manor attacked and killed your predecessor and his companion, but it turns out that you're still alive and well. Well, enough to mark their mission as a failure and, now, they're gunning for you again. In fact, not just you, but everyone in the family who doesn't have... the 'Gift'. Can you survive until back-up arrive? Will you make sure that the family line doesn't end with you? What will it take for a stranger to care for a family that he doesn't know?

Quest Objective/s: Make sure two (2) members of the Greythorne clan survive until 06:00 a.m. [6/6 Surviving Members]; Stay alive until 06:00 a.m.

Quest Reward/s: (5x) Monster Banishing Sigil Card (Consumable); (1x) Enchanted Iridium Dagger

Accept Quest: Yes / No ]

"Wait, what?" Irwin asked the system, forgetting the fact that it won't answer a non-system based question. He thinks, although it was just his preliminary guess.

"Uh, remove?" he ordered with a hint of confusion, to no avail.

"Later."

"I'm busy."

"Gotta take a poo."

"Oh, no. I'm suddenly dying and am unable to reject nor accept the sudden intrusion of a mission gifted by the Entity whom created you?" He said before sighing. It looks like he had opened a pandora's box and has to either accept or reject the quest before the system removed it from his sight. "Fine. I accept."

[Quest Accepted]

[Active Quest: 01

Completed Quest: 00

Failed Quest: 00 ]

"Alright. Opened up the pandora's box and now have to survive the night in a creepy mansion during a storm, with the weirdest people in the world. Cool, very cool."

Click! Creak!

The door to the parlor room opened up to Agent Spear's scrawny figure, his gait confident and with purpose. Though his suit was too large for him and often covered his whole body, the familiar silhouette of his gun remained conspicuous on his side.

"Well, finished with point K and L, so let's handle J." Irwin whispered before straightening up in his sit. His gaze locking in with the agent.

"Richard, right?" Agent Spears asked, his left hand holding a tea plate full of strawberry shortcake. "We met an hour ago."

"Hmm?" Irwin panicked a bit before a surge of memories becalmed him. It had seemed that the memory integration software created by the Entity was not that perfect. "Oh, yes, of course. Nice to meet you again, Detective Abagnale."

"Oh, it's, uh, Agent. Special Agent Brit Neal Spears."

Irwin furrowed his brows before sitting down, motioning for Spears to do the same. "Sure, why not? Mind if you show you badge for a sec, Agent?"

"Uh, yeah sure. Here you go." Spears readily agreeing to his request, unsettling Irwin and further exemplifying his thoughts that Spears was just pretending to be law enforcement.

Although he knew that he was in a different world, mostly based on the memory packs he's been receiving through his system, he thought that this world's version of DJ Quall is a federal agent. But, seeing his demeanor, antics, and general offish vibe urges him to consider otherwise.

"Hmm..."

"Can I ask you some questions regarding the scene upstairs?"

"It's yellow." Irwin muttered as he caressed the badge with his fingertips.

"What's yellow?"

"The badge... it's yellow instead of gold. The lady justice model... it doesn't have the U and J symbol on her scale." Irwin continued scrutinizing the badge, beckoning Spears forward.

"W-what do you mean?" Spears leaned forward, his head inches away from Irwin's.

Irwin pointed towards the model in the badge, though his eyes were trained on Spears' movement. "Right... here..."

He eyed Spears as he gazed at his imperfect badge. Irwin bent his left arm and smashed his elbow towards Spears' molars.

Crack! Thud!

Spears's cheek rippled as Irwin's elbow hit it, sending him tumbling down to the floor.

Before spears could react, Irwin lept to his feet and tumbled atop Spears, keeping him down. As he set his hands to frantically search for the agent's gun, Irwin spoke to the man. "Never was one for violence, but I figured... New life, new rules."

He took out Spears' gun and trained it on his head, while slowly standing up and siting down. "Why don't you take a sit, Agent?"

Spear's got up and sat down back to his chair, glaring at Irwin all the while, his cheek red and dripping blood. "That was a cheap shot, but I could respect that, amigo."

"Thanks," Irwin nodded before cocking the hammer of the pistol. "I have a few questions and, if you value your life, you'll answer them. Si pronto?"

"Yeah," Spears nodded, putting his hands up to soothe Irwin. "But I can tell that you're not a killer; so am I, Richard."

"No, no. You don't get to tell me a speech about morality and introspective deaths. And I am a killer. A pretty good one at it." Irwin replied.

"Look, amigo, I have a pretty good eye for things like these. You're scared, frustrated even, because, while you know that something is happening in this here house, you don't know who or what it is. In fact, you cam barely trust half the people in here," Spears gravitated nearer Irwin, speaking with such calm yet joyful tone that it lowered Irwin's guard. "But you can trust me, bud. I'm a hunter."

"H-hah, you might be right, Agent." Irwin trembled, for he knew Spears had hit the mark, even as far as slightly lowering the gun in his hand, but a certain word hit him hard. "You're a hunter?"

"Judging by the look on your face, you know what I am? That means when I was interviewing you, you were giving me a hint." Spears had widened eyes as the look of realization dawned on his face, all of which were lost on Irwin, whom recognized the familiar context of the word. "Do you know which one is the werewolf?"

"Hey. Hey! I'm not answering any of your question unless you answer mine, alright?" Irwin tried to swing back the initiative to his side, emphasizing the gun in his hand. "This ain't no schoolyard bullying. I got the gun, you got none."

"Okie-dokie, muchacho," Spears conceded. "But, wait. School bullies asked you a lot of questions?"

"No. Questions."

"Right, sorry."

"Now, your name. Real one. Not the obviously fake one."

Spears nodded gently. "My name is Garth Fitzgerald IV and I am... a monster hunter."

Clang!

Irwin dropped his gun, hitting the coffee table below. His eyes widened, realization and frights pervading his psyche. It all makes sense, he thought, all of it makes sense.

The messages...

The protocols...

The Entity...

The Iridium dagger...

The werewolf...

The Hunter...

Garth...

"Oh, fuck you. Am I in Supernatural?" Irwin yelled, eyes bloodshot, hands on his head, clutching the strands of his hair.

Boom!

Lightning struck near the manor, startling its inhabitants and attesting to Irwin's theory.

"Oh, for Chuck's sake!"

Boom!