She walked into the house not knowing what would happen to her. The door creaked and one of the knobs broke off. She was unsure if she wanted to stay there, but she needed a place to stay. Her car broke down a mile back and it was the only place near by. "H-Hello..?" she stumbled on her words. She walked in slowly looking around the mansion. There were old paintings and cobwebs everywhere. A few melted candles, some knick-knacks, and mice scurrying along the wooden floor.
She kept walking until she saw something on the mantel of the huge fireplace. It was a thick black book placed between two unlit, white cylinder candles. It had a gold lining down the spine and in a big, silver font across the front said, 'A Trip down Memory Lane'. The girl reached out slowly to grab it.
Her hands were shaky. Just when her fingertips were a few inches away she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. Startled by the noise she jumped and turned around quickly, breathing hard.
On top of the main stairs stood a man. He was tall, had brown hair and eyes. His skin was very pale. He looked to to be in his late twenties. His mouth was small and wasn't smiling. He wore a nice suit as if he were going to a wedding or maybe funeral. His eyes were narrow and stared at the girl.
"May I help you, peasant?" He said through gritted teeth.
"Uhm, yeah. My car broke down a few streets and I.. uh, need a place to stay." She sounded helpless.
"So, you think you can just barge into my home unannounced and expect a place to stay?" The man looked her dead in the face. "Look, I didn't think this place had someone living in it. Just look at it. It's dirty and-"
"Excuse me? Dirty? My home is the biggest and most beautiful house in this whole bloody town!"
She blinked a few times. "My bad. Just from the way I see it, it looks like sh-"
"I don't care what you have to say, peasant."
The woman looked annoyed with the boy. "Stop interrupting me! And I'm not a peasant...I have a name." She crossed her arms. He raised an eyebrow at her and gave her a look that said, Well, what is it?
"It's Claire. Claire Martz." She looked up at him.
They stared at each other for a few minutes until Claire broke the silence. "Well, what's your name?"
He looked emotionless at her. "I have no intention on telling you my name, peas Claire."
She looked at him wide-eyed and mouth gaping. "What! I told you my name. Now you tell me yours! Fair trade."
He sighed. "Very well. My name is Eric Vanlanington."
Claire shifted her feet. "Nice to meet you Eric."
"Likewise." he said in a disgusted tone.
Claire looked around the dark room. "So how long have you lived in this house?"
Eric started walking down the stairs. "year. My parents left it all to me in their Will." He stopped on the last step in front of Claire. He was a bit taller than her. She stood 5'5" and Eric was 5'7".
He looked down at her. "so your car broke and you need a place to stay?"
She looked up at him and nodded.
"Very well then. I'll have my butler, Morris, gets the guest room ready, You may stay for a while until your car gets repaired.
Footsteps were heard down a dim hallway. Claire turned around and saw a short man. He looked like any other old man. He wore a suit and had a pointy nose. It looked like his gray hair was thinning out. He was a slender man, no fat seemed to be on his body.
"I heard my name, Master Eric."
Eric looked down at the little man. "Ah yes. Ms. Martz needs a place to rest for a while. Make the guest room look presentable." He had a slight devil grin on his face.
Morris turned and looked at Claire. He grunted. "I'll have the room fixed soon. After wards I'll ring when supper is done." Then he walked back into the dark hallway.
"Oh, I couldn't eat. I just had a Christmas dinner at my Grandparents." Claire tried to sound polite.
Eric grabbed her shoulder and it sent a shiver down her spine. "Nonsense. Just come eat some dinner. Morris makes the most splendid soups."
She looked unsure. "Well, maybe just one bowl wouldn't hurt."
"Marvelous." Once again that devil grin was planted on his face.