In The Cards

by MissLunaTick

Over a hundred years later the old manor stood in its place, looking as neat as ever, but starkly empty. The old manor was protected from the modern world by a high gate, and the expansive historic graveyard hidden beyond the tree line. It weathered through storms and time with no signs of ever changing. But change is inevitable, unexpected, and chaotic. (based on ride, not movie)

1. Prologue

Prologue

Black funerary drapes and a wreath of calla lilies hung on the second floor balcony above the main door. A very somber mood settled upon the manor. The sun shining brightly above the old manor home did little to chase away the gloom. The wake had been quick; most of the seats filled by the house staff, and even then the parlor had been nearly vacant. A priest in robes walked out of the large front doors, saying a blessing over the doorway as the pallbearers carried the humble pine box. The family plot sat at the edge of the yard near the old willow trees. A middle-aged woman walked slowly behind the procession, her black gown and veil appropriate for a woman in mourning. The small crowd watched the coffin being lowered as the priest offered words of comfort and wishes for peace upon the soul of the departed. The servants stood with tears in their eyes, holding in their sorrow while the black lace veil completely obscured the woman's features. Each servant picked up a piece of earth and gently tossed it on the coffin, a final gesture of goodbye to the young master. No one said how it was such a disgrace that the young master was buried in little more than a pine box. Glaring eyes were cast at the woman in black. The servants had been forced to spend their own money to put out the obituary. It was an ill omen that the sun parched the earth on this day of sadness, a sign they took to mean the departed was most unhappy. Each servant laid a single white calla lily on the grave as the woman in black laid an orange lily over the simple headstone. There was silence as the new Mistress of the Gracey estate turned and walked back towards the manor. With a final silent prayer the priest crossed himself, and the house staff followed suit, walking back towards the manor after the woman. The gloom that clung to the manor held a hint of malice, which in a short time drove the living occupants out of its halls and into the soil below.

Over a hundred years later the old manor stood in its place, looking as neat as ever, but starkly empty. The old manor was protected from the modern world by a high gate, and the expansive historic graveyard hidden beyond the tree line. It weathered through storms and time with no signs of ever changing. But change is inevitable, unexpected, and chaotic.