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The Spirit of Wysteria Manor Empty The Spirit of Wysteria Manor

Post by Kirwin Mon Jan 24, 2022 2:07 am


The Spirit of Wysteria Manor FBHsO4f




Hugo shivered as he walked down a dimly lit street, the road paved with cobblestones beneath his boots that glistened in the drizzling rain. It was nearing nightfall, so the only light he got was from a few flickering street lamps. The avian looked around nervously as he went, clutching his messenger bag tightly. He half expected an Eldritch to leap from the bushes or come charging down the street at him. Little did the courier know that three sets of eyes watched his ambulation down the cracked sidewalk.

Of all the cities his mother’s business serviced, he liked Newdale the least. It was a part of the Outer Realm, so an enchantment spread across that section of the continent caused the skies to always remain no brighter than dusk. It gave the murky streets a spooky look about them. The only reason they delivered mail here was because of the combined population. It was mostly humans and eldritch, which deemed it safe enough for couriers to Hugo’s mom. Perhaps she didn’t know just how dark and depraved this place really was.

“Just one more delivery,” Hugo muttered to himself, glancing over his shoulder. He’d arrived in Newdale not long ago. The rain had started halfway into his deliveries, soaking the avian’s clothes and wings. The only waterproof thing was his satchel that held the parcels. It was impossible to fly with wet feathers so he would have to stay the night in the city, which he was dreading.

The last item was a small box about the size of his palm. He’d only briefly glanced at it to see the address number, which he was nearing. Hugo turned the corner of a street that ended in a cul-de-sac. No other houses were on the street but one, indicated to be the correct address by a woeful-looking mailbox with its door hung open. On the side were the words 'Wysteria Manor'. His eyes grew comically wide as he took in the sight before him. The house was more like a mansion. It was neglected and falling into ruin. Shutters hung on by barely a nail and a few windows were cracked or broken. Shingles on the roof were sparse and the gutters looked like a sad attempt at accenting the wilting house. Thick trees that were allowed to grow wild hid parts of the house.

“Aww man…” Hugo whimpered. What a creepy old house! If he knew any better, he would have realized it was definitely abandoned. However, Hugo was not the most observant person, so he forced himself to keep walking towards the creepy mansion. All he could do was remind himself over and over that all he had to do was get someone to sign for the package and he could run far away from this place. The lawn grew wild with weeds and bushes and the sidewalk beneath his feet was crumbling. Even though Hugo was light, the front steps creaked dangerously under his weight. Moss grew all across the porch and was starting to crawl up towards the front door. All the wood seemed to be rotting as he saw it up close.

Greeting him at the door was a large brass door-knocker shaped like the head of a buffalope. From its rusting head hung a heavy ring, which he hesitantly picked up and rapped against the rotting door a few times. The knock echoed distantly through the house, spooking the short avian and making his heart race. Behind him on the lawn, three pairs of eyes watched curiously from within a bush.

Post WC: 596 Thread WC: 596 Tagged:   @Bahadur     Music: The Spook
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The Spirit of Wysteria Manor Empty Re: The Spirit of Wysteria Manor

Post by Bahadur Mon Jan 24, 2022 2:18 pm

The Spirit of Wysteria Manor 9b6d6103831bbe436db0b10903df6f72


---



What makes a home? Was it the four walls which kept away the eyes of uninvited guests, or was it the windows which allowed you to look out at the dangerous world beyond your door? Was it the family who filled it’s halls with joy or the roof which kept the downpour of rain and onslaught of wind off of those who dwelled within? Such questions were just some of many pondered by the one who himself had never quite grasped its appeal, though it was safe to say his priorities were not aligned with most mortal souls who tread on soil and stone. A home was where the heart dwelled some wrote in their poems and the songs of bards, but was not such a notion discriminating against those who’s heart had reduced to cinders in time long forgotten?

In Newdale, west of the Capital, there was a house. Not a warm, stable home sheltering a family and their pets, nor was it a grand cathedral of a monument dedicated to the comfort and luxury of a single occupant. It was grand yes, but where paint peeled, shutters hung by their teeth and windows gave way for the elements to invade. It was a crumbling ruin of a home long left void, empty, where the mystery of their absence was almost as intriguing as the tales of those who had tried to set foot inside those past few months. For it had come into  urban myth amongst the neighbourhood, that something dwelt there which was not meant to.

Bahadur sat with his legs crossed, purple flesh cold to the touch and orbs of flame where eyes should sit, held a book in one hand. He tried to read it, he truly did, but whatever the contests he was cleared bored of the words inscribed and so slammed it shut with a single hand. An exaggerated child like sigh escaping his lips as he let go, the book dropping quickly as it shot past his head towards the ground. It likely did not help his attention span that he sat upside down, his arse mere inches from the roof of the Mansion’s foyer as he looked ahead to the chain which somehow still hung the chandelier. The book struck the floor and exploded from the impact, sheets of paper covering the floor around it as the demon began to chuckle. “Ooooo, that be a close one.” he muttered as he realised he had barely missed the table which sat in the centre.

The book landed at a time which was by luck, the same time that the heavy ring of the front door slammed it’s first knock. To the point that he did not react at first, after all, no one ever came to visit him. It was a reasonable fact however as it was not even his home, nor did he have a home, it was simply a capsule in time through which he could ponder what humans saw in such facilities. It could not have been the books, after all these did not even house pictures, and it could not have been the food as this one’s kitchen was rotten. A shame, but perhaps it was the company? And as the second and third knocks rung through the house he realised, he may have found a guest willing to test his theory.

His skull covered face tilted at an awkward angle, tusks pointing like daggers toward the front door as he watched. “Well well well, i think we got company.” he whispered with a chuckle, his legs unfolding as he began to crawl down the towering walls like a spider, if spiders were eight feet in length. When he reached the floor he burst into cold flame, blue embers rising as ash fell to the floor, then in a second burst of blue light he stood once more, in what he saw as his more agreeable form. Under six feet in height this time, a young man gaunt and pale. His skin a Frankenstein jigsaw of burnt flesh and a more human like cover. Bright blue eyes stared out with an almost psychotic excitement from under the mane of wild black hair which sprouted from his hair. Around his body he wore a baggy, ill fitting but almost expensive looking suit, complete with a tie and waistcoat, though his feet were bare as if at a water park.

Clearing his throat theatrically he snapped his fingers, the empty hearth at the end of the hall suddenly roaring into life as the fireplace began to awash the home with light. Opening the door slowly the Ashen Jester bowed his head and grinned from ear to ear. “It be good to see you friend, you do not know how long it’s been since someone like you has come here.” The implication that he meant one of a more mortal inclination may have been lost in translation, but he thought nothing of it as he reached forward and took the man’s sleeve, dragging him inside the front door with an enthusiastic and strong grip. The door slamming firmly behind them as Bahadur continued to usher him towards the fire place and the two miserable looking chairs seated in front of it.





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The Spirit of Wysteria Manor Empty Re: The Spirit of Wysteria Manor

Post by Kirwin Tue Jan 25, 2022 2:01 am


The Spirit of Wysteria Manor FBHsO4f




“Hellooooo?” Hugo called out after a moment, his raspy voice wavering. At this point he was convinced this place was haunted. “Is anyone there? I have a package for…” he looked down at the box in his shaking hands. “Butts McGee?” It was then he realized his mistake. By not looking closer at the package earlier, he had failed to realize that it was a fake name. The poor courier had experienced one too many prank deliveries since starting this job. Teens and children thought it was fun to make up silly names so they could tease the mailman. One time he’d even been egged by a few delinquent inu children in Crowleigh.

“Damnit!” The sound of muffled giggles from the yard behind him told exactly of who had pulled this. Before he could even move to turn around and berate the culprits, the door before him whipped open. Hugo let out a shriek of surprise. Someone actually lived here! In the entryway of the rotting manor stood a young man with shaggy black hair. A baggy suit covered his body, though he donned bare feet. What frightened the avian even more was the guy’s skin. It looked like someone had taken a flamethrower to it then stitched together the healthy and scorched skin in a sick arts and crafts project. The spooky stranger looked like something straight from one of the horror films Hugo had been too scared to finish back at home. The manor’s inhabitant spoke with a haunting smile, addressing him as if they were humble acquaintances.

“Oh sh-” Hugo started to scream, only to be yanked inside by his sleeve. The grinning ghoul dragged him through the doorway and slammed it behind them, closing off the rest of the world. Peering through the murky windows not a few seconds later were three young demonata, shoving each other out of the way to get a view of what was going on. They desperately wanted to see the spirit rumored to live in the mansion.

Struggle as he might, the courier couldn’t shake himself free of the grip on his coat as he was dragged towards a sitting room with a roaring hearth. He was too small and light to put any real strength behind his frantic wiggling.

“H-hey now, Mr. Ghost, I really didn’t mean to disturb you,” Hugo pleaded, “I’m just a delivery guy, I mean no harm! Why don’t you just l-let me go and you can go back to haunting your house, okay?” Like the neighborhood kids, he thought that this was a spirit he was dealing with. Those vibrant blue eyes were very unnerving. He didn’t expect a supernatural being to have such a strong grip, though.

Post WC: 454 Thread WC: 1,929 Tagged: @Bahadur Music: The Spook

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The Spirit of Wysteria Manor Empty Re: The Spirit of Wysteria Manor

Post by Bahadur Wed Jan 26, 2022 12:05 am

The Spirit of Wysteria Manor Bf0e06e422af3f5693f82b61cc3024a1


---



“Come now angel, take a seat.” Insisted the heavily scarred young man as his guest began to plead with some nonsense about a haunting. With a push that was deceptively strong and sudden he forced the delivery man into one of the chairs, swiping from his grasp the package as he did so. It was light and plain but regardless of what it was or what it was not he seemed deeply fascinated as he stared with wonder at it’s packing. “Please please, a ghost implies i be dead friend.” He said as he crossed his legs, his body hovering at the same height it had been as if he were meditating on the stale air of the lifeless house.

“Now then, what do we have here?” He asked, turning the package slowly in his hands as if to listen for rolling or rattling, a slow deep breath filling his lungs before he suddenly turned to sharply stare back into the eyes of his unwilling guest. The floating man threw the package onto his lap and rested his elbows against his knees, the palms of his hands resting his burned chin as he waited with great interest. “Such a gentleman, here i am not even prepared for such a trade, before you give me a present, we must surely figure out what i…” dissipating into dark smoke his solid form was no longer visible, leaving the man seated in what visually seemed to be isolation. “…Can do for you.”

About thirty seconds passed of this, an awkward and obvious lack of any further actions by the unexpected host. Even the fireplace seemed to dim for a moment, before three high pitched screams could be heard from outside. Terror of the young piercing the walls of the house before hurried footsteps carried their fleeting bodies away, and then silence one more. Silence only broken, when the deep rhythmic voice spoke again, mere inches behind the blonde man’s head. “Boo!” He projected loud and clear, sharp and sudden in a jumping attempt at fright mere moments before he erupted into laughter, rolling backwards onto the floor as he curled in on himself in hysterics. “Ooooh ho ho ho, ooooh that be a classic that one.”

Slowly, and still near crying with laughter he rolled forward until he was sat cross legged on the floor, the chairs between himself and the now brightly roaring fireplace. “Sorry about my little absence, the neighbours here are so rude sometimes. Never respectt a poor man’s privacy!” The theatrics in his voice made every word an act, and whatever his true feelings on the matter his face did not stop expressing that same limitless joy and humour. One hand reached up to ruffle his hair as he attempted to steady his breathing, looking over at Hugo before he began to crack his neck, tilting it from side to side. “Now, where be my manners. I will not be having you call me Mr Ghost all night. No, you can call me Bahadur, if you would know me by anytime at all young one.”





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The Spirit of Wysteria Manor Empty Re: The Spirit of Wysteria Manor

Post by Kirwin Thu Feb 03, 2022 2:09 am


The Spirit of Wysteria Manor FBHsO4f




“Angel? I’m no-” Hugo started to deny, but was forced towards the chair in the decrepit sitting room. Involuntarily he took a seat with momentum granted by the spooky guy’s deceptive strength, nearly toppling over the rotting piece of furniture. Slight as he was, the chair creaked uneasily beneath him.

The avian gripped the gnarled upholstery, his knuckles white at the effort. Frightened, he watched the stranger look over the package he had brought. “You’re… not dead?” Hugo whispered in bewilderment, blinking dumbly at the now hovering man. He’d never seen a live person float without some sort of wings or supernatural force.

“No need! Just doing my job!” the courier replied, his voice rising in pitch as the ghoulish guy disappeared right in front of him. Silence filled the manor for a few seconds before the piercing screams of his pranksters could be heard through the cracked windows. For a moment Hugo thought Mr. Ghost was attacking them, but a shred of relief came when their voices faded into the distance with the pounding of their feet on the path.

The sudden spook right above his head made Hugo jump out of his seat in fright as he yelped like a dog. The disheveled avian fell back into his seat, plastered to the chair with his limbs all sorts of willy-nilly over it as if pressing himself deeper into the chair would hide him from this horror. He clutched his heaving chest with one hand, afraid his heart would burst from his chest and run out the door like he wished he could right now. The manor’s haunt was rolling in hysterics on the warped floorboards. At least one of them was enjoying this!

An introduction was the last thing Hugo was expecting. The ghoul had a name, Bahadur, and had called him ‘young one’. Skeptically he gave the stranger a once-over. He didn’t look that much older, but if he were Eldritch or Gaiyan looks could be deceiving.

“I’m Hugo,” the blonde replied while shifting nervously. He nearly finished the introduction with his usual ‘your friendly neighborhood mail deliverer!’. “Er… nice to meet you, Mr. Bahadur?” the greeting inflected at the end like a question, for he wasn’t convinced that this was a nice meeting at all. Being spooked wasn’t exactly his idea of a good way of becoming acquainted. Every instinct was telling him to flee, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Post WC: 406 Thread WC: X Tagged: @Bahadur Music: The Spook

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