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The Manor

This young man has traveled the roads since his mind remembers. Never finding a place for him to stay. All he wanted was to find that haven, so he could get what truly desired. His wishes were granted when he came across a manor in the middle of nowhere. Finally, he could get what he wanted.

Itarow · Horreur
Pas assez d’évaluations
4 Chs

Introduction:

It was a cold and bitter night. The storm that passed by earlier that evening, left the young man drenched and shivering. It was midnight, but time wasn't a big concern for him. In the end, all he wanted was a haven to get his mind straight; to focus.

Standing right outside the property of a mansion, his mind relaxed. He tapped his boot lightly, while eyeing the stoned manor. As the wind breezed past him, he turned his head down the road he came from. A sigh escaped his lips.

The chattering of his teeth gave him the sign that this was his only option. Unless he wanted to end up with an illness in the middle of nowhere. Shouldering his pack, he took the first step towards the mansion.

Passing through the courtyard, he took in everything. Stone walls, with several windows littered against them. Dim light illuminating from some, but not all rooms. An eerie environment with a stillness in the air. As if the manor itself was holding its breath. Climbing the steps slowly, he finally reached the entrance. Hoping that this was the haven he was looking for.

He observed the double doors he stood in front of. Wooden and old, with the handles rusted. A small light flickering in the corner. The entrance to his new temporary home. Giving himself a quick look down, he noticed how dirty he was. Wet mud sticking to his black coat and trousers. He gave his boots a hard stomp, before gripping a rusted door handle.

The door creaked open, echoing throughout the main hall. Stepping in, he breathed in the warm air. The room was quaint, dimly lit and had an odd smell to it. Not fascinating, but also not horrible. Perfect, he thought to himself as he closed the door with a loud thud.

As if on queue, a lady dressed in a clean violet suit with a small black bow hanging from the collar walked into the room.

„Welcome stranger. To Violet Elysium." she spoke with a faint accent in her voice as she stopped in front of the young man.

Her hands rested behind her back. A small, but friendly smile spread across her face. Forming small wrinkles on her cheeks and around her eyes. Her chestnut colored hair was made neatly into a bun. But what stood out to him the most, were her piercing blue irises. Digging into his eyes.

"Will you be staying with us, sir?" she asked politely.

"Yes, if you have a room left of course." the man replied.

"Follow me." turning her back and strutting off.

He followed her while looking around. Stone corridors went from either side in the front of the room by the door. With a staircase hugging the right wall that led up to the second floor. Reaching the other end of the room, where a long desk stood, he stopped. The lady went behind and shuffled through some papers that were lying around.

"What is your full name, sir?" she asked once she retrieved a paper and pen.

„Calix de Corvus."

The lady glanced up at him and tilted her head slightly. A frown plastered on her face as if the name offended her in some way.

"I never heard that accent before. Where are you from?" asking curiously.

Coming to think about that, Calix wasn't too sure how to answer. He never knew where he came from originally. In full truth, he had no recollection of his past at all. The only facts remembered about himself, was his name, that he was lost and the need to finish a book.

The furthest past he could fester up was the last week. Being on the road with no place to stay. But moving forward with a purpose to find a „haven." To get his mind straight; to focus.

"I- I don't know." he answered honestly.

"Interesting..." the lady said with a glint of suspicion in her eyes.

"Here, why don't you fill out the information." handing Calix the paper and pen.

Quickly filling out the boxes with the information that he could remember, Calix returned the pen and paper. She glanced it over and nodded. Turning her back on him, she grabbed a key from a massive board. The board was a place holder for keys. Assuming it was for the rooms in the manor.

"Follow me, Mr. de Corvus."

Calix did as he was told. They climbed the staircase onto the second floor and yielded right. She led him down a stone corridor, passing by doors on both sides. The flickering of candles casting small light as they continued. As they reached the end, she stopped. Turning to him, she handed Calix the key she had grabbed.

"This is your room. Room 220. If you have any questions, you can always find me downstairs. My staff can also answer, but if you want to see me; just ask for Lady Violet." she said with a small smile.

"Actually, I was wondering where I could wash these clothes." Calix replied.

"Just downstairs. Take the left corridor and you'll find it." Lady Violet answered.

"Thank you."

She nodded and started back down the corridor. Calix watched Lady Violet disappear as the shadows engulfed her.

He looked over to the room door. The clicking of the lock as he turned the key echoed throughout the corridor. With a slight push of the door, it creaked open. Allowing passage into room 220.

As he walked in, he analyzed the simple design with trinket decorations, unknown to his mind, splattered around. A single bed lying in the middle of the room, with the head pushed against the wall. One candle light on a night stand by it and a wooden closet on the other side. A black bathtub in the right corner, next to a sink and mirror. The window at the end had a violet curtain tied up neatly on both ends giving sight to the outside world. Lastly, a desk flushed against the back end and a cushioned chair nicely tucked under.

Nothing fancy, but perfect for a haven. Placing his pack on the desk, he began to undress himself. He stood in front of the mirror, bare foot with only his trousers on, looking over his features. His dark brown hair tattered and messy. Bangs falling loosely over his green eyes. Calix lightly touched his cheek, where a long scar, going from his bottom right eye to the edge of his lips lied.

He didn't remember where it came from or where the other scars on his torso came from either. It was all a mystery to him. Giving himself one last look into his droopy eyes, he unbuttoned the trousers and threw them with the rest of his dirty clothes.

In the next hour that came, he cleaned himself up and decided to wash the clothes when he would wake up.

Calix fell onto the bed and let out a heavy sigh. Finally, a haven. A place to get his mind straight; to focus. With that last thought, he fell into a long needed slumber.