Visitors (1/?)
Rating: T
Summary: Emma Swan has wanted to visit Ireland her entire life. When she finally arrives, the manor she's staying at isn't quite what it seems.
She doesn't know what drew her to walk the halls of this place. She had every intention of simply going to sleep and starting fresh the next day. Something was calling to her though, like it wanted to be found.
She dragged her fingertips over the textured paper that lined the walls. Dark purple with twirling black curves traveled beneath them. It felt as if it was whispering to her through touch. Can that even happen?
It had always been her dream to go to Ireland. She remembers her one of her former foster's family's grandmother telling her stories of her time in Killarney, the best summers of her life she said. The gorgeous greens that surrounded everywhere, it was like stepping into a fairytale book.
So throughout her life it was always one of Emma's goals to make her way to the country. When she turned 25, she'd finally bused enough tables and dealt with enough unruly men who smacked her ass to make decent amount of money to travel.
She didn't make it to Killarney exactly, but a just a small village in Southern Ireland. She feels as if it all looks the same though. It was exactly as her the old woman had told her, luscious green fields, illimitable lakes, pebbled walkways. It was stunning.
This B&B though, she couldn't describe the feeling. When she first saw it online, she knew that's where she was staying. Hell, that's why she chose this random village, and now that she was here, she felt needed.
Emma looked to the end of the dim hallway. A faint light outline of a child appeared out of nowhere. She started walking towards it quicker till she was running down the hallway. There were no features to it, just the bare marking of a body. As she closed the distance between them, the light got stronger. The figure moved as she neared it, turning to its left and moving past the intersection of hallways. As she round the corner, her body collided with another.
"Woah, you alright there lass?"
She looked up and the bluest eyes she'd ever seen appeared before her.
"Yeah, I uh. I thought I saw something."
"I can assure you, you and I are the only ones in this hallway right now."
She realized his hands were still around her arms from when he stopped her. When she stepped about of his grasp, she finally got a good at him.
His hair looked like it had just been tousled by his hand, a nice auburn stubble covering his jaw. Her eyes had admittedly been drawn to the fact his shirt was undone by a few buttons, she could see the faint cast of hair on his chest.
She shook her head lightly when she realized she'd been staring. "I guess I just have worse jet lag than I thought," she said chuckling.
"And I'm sure you're our newest guest. From the likes of your accent, I'm guessing American?"
"You guessed right. Are you staying here too?"
"Ah, no. Killian Jones. I work here," he said extending a hand.
"Emma Swan."
When they touched hands, it felt as if a spark shot between them. She took her hand away quickly, unnerved by everything going on.
"Right. Well, I obviously need some sleep. Goodnight."
"Sweet dreams, Emma Swan." He said curtly nodding his head.
His gaze never left her eyes as she left, and she could still feel it as she walked down the corridor. She also still felt the imprint of his hand in hers. Shaking her hand to get the tingly feeling out, she padded back to her room, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
The next morning seemed to be a struggle for Emma. Tossing and turning all night due to weird dreams wasn't exactly the norm.
Getting up and ready for the day, she could only think about the tales from the night. She saw images of a woman with long brown hair, crying as she walked down the hallway of a castle. A man reading a note is his bedroom as he began weeping. A woman in a red cape trying to calm down to the other woman seemed to be in a manic state.
She had no idea who these people were. Never met them a day in her life. They say you only dream of faces you've seen. Maybe she passed by them in the streets of Boston?
The feeling of the dreams stayed with her though. For as long as she could remember, dreams never impacted her like this. Sure, a few shaky moments after she got up, but this stayed. The loss and heartbreak she felt nearly broke her. Emma shook her head as she entered the kitchen of the manor.
The room was nicely sized. It had an old, Victorian style stove that looked like it had been around before the house. The floors had a nice tan tile and redwood cabinets lined the walls. It had a nice homey feeling to it, something she felt was lacking in other areas of the lot.
"Morning, Swan." Killian was at the stove cooking up what seemed to look like a good meal. Sausages, eggs, toast, hash, and fruits covered one of the long tables.
"You're the chef too?" She questioned.
"I'm the caretaker for place," he said turning around and putting a plate of bacon on the table as his arm grazed hers.
"Thanks," she said a small smile.
She filled her plate with food and sat down at the table as did he.
"So, what exactly do you do here?" Emma asked.
"Whatever is needed around the lot. The owner, Mrs. O'Donnelly, only has the house." Killian was already digging into the food he got for himself. "She doesn't have much money to invest in other workers. So on slow times such as now, she only has me working."
"Summer is a slow time around here?" Emma's eyes furrowed as she began to eat her food. She had to give it to the man, he knew how to cook.
"Winter is usually our best time. The locales decorate the whole village. There are fairy lights hanging everywhere, red ribbons attached to anything they can be put on, it's truly breath taking." A soft smile came across is face as he was talking of fond memories. "The town a few kilometers south has a Christmas market every year that draws some tourism. We usually get the overflow from them."
Looking around her Emma noticed there were no other guests in the room.
"Am I the only person staying here?"
"We have a few others but 2 are checking out today and the other couple already left."
They were making light conversation when Emma noticed the same light shape of a child in the doorway to the left of the room. She blinked a few times with a disoriented look.
"Still tired, Swan?"
Once she looked to Killian and back again, it was gone. "Yeah, I guess I am." She said unsurely. "Thank you for all this. It was really good. I think I'm gonna go lay down for some more though," she said to him, who was cleaning up the table.
"It's not a problem, just go rest," he replied with a smile.
The stupid childlike thing showed up again. What the hell is going on? Maybe she really is just tired.
Once she got back to her room, she lay down and went back to sleep.
Emma woke up at around 2 PM feeling better than she had when she arrived.
Deciding to get a good look of the place, she walked to the bathroom, splashed some cold water on her face and left her room.
The manor was larger than one would think. It had 2 living rooms, a family room, a dining room, kitchen, basement, an attic, 9 bedrooms. Hell, her bedroom here was bigger than her last apartment in Boston.
It was all gorgeous as well. It had a nice Victorian feel too it. Dark oak covered the floors and dark wallpapers throughout. It oddly reminded her of the Haunted Mansion ride at Disneyland.
Finding her way back to the main floor of the house, she found the mini library of the place. Each wall had a bookshelf that was from the floor all the way up to the ceiling. There was a fireplace on the right wall with a large mirror above it. Two couches sat in the middle of the floor with a large accent rug underneath them. The wall facing the eastern garden of the house had a large bay window with a plush bench with it. She still couldn't believe she was staying in a place that had a freaking small library.
Going to the first bookshelf on her right, Emma started looking through the books within it. Dragging her finger along the bindings, she saw a lot of the books weren't even in English. They featured a variety of languages, Welsh, German, French, Russian, Italian. Most of the books were cracking, had to be over 80 years old at the least.
Grabbing one book from the second bookshelf, she flung it open in her hands. The pages were a browned with aged, some of the text so faded she couldn't even read. Slamming the book shut, a cloud of dust flew from it. Coughing the get it out of her lungs, she put the book away and wiped her hands across her pants.
Walking over to the bay window, the blonde sat into one of the corners, snuggling into one of the pillows. Looking out to the view in front of her, she sighed in contentment.
"Enjoying the scenery, lass?"
She turned her head to see Killian coming into the room, holding a basket full of cleaning supplies.
"It's really beautiful. We don't have a lot of views like this in Boston."
"What? They have no terraces there?" He sat the supplies down on the coffee table between the couches as he made his way towards her.
"Not where I live. Although, I have a pretty great view of the city," she said letting out a breath. "Nothing like this though."
"Barbarians."
They both chuckled as he sat down on the seat across from her, admiring the view as she was.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she glanced to the left view of the garden. She saw a faded outline of an elm tree coming into view. The more the image came to her, the more details she could see. Something was dangling from one of the lower branches of the tree. A body.
She gasped loudly and a pillow fell from the bench.
"Swan?" He asked with furrowed brows. "Are you alright? You look stark as a sheet?"
She tree suddenly vanished from her view. Turning to Killian she saw the confusion in his eyes. "Yeah, just a headache started coming on. The lights hurting it a little bit."
Emma scrambled off of the bench walking away from the window. What the hell was that? Things fading from her vision? Maybe she was losing her mind.
"Do you need anything? I think we have some medication in our first aid."
"I'll be fine. I think I'm just gonna go check my email," she said lamely.
She walked out of the room quickly, couldn't leaving it fast enough. Leaving a baffled Killian in her wake.
Emma sat up in her bed in a trance. Voices hummed in her ears, her body propelling itself out of the bed.
She walked out of her room, going in a daze. Her feet were guiding her to a place she didn't know. It was like she couldn't stop herself. The only way she knew she was moving was the feel of the cold wood beneath her feet.
She walked up the stairs to find herself in the attic of the manor. The room was large with stuff that had been collected over the years. Boxes littered the floor with cobwebs covering the tops of them. A few full size mirrors with grandiose frames. Dust covered every inch of the room, causing an almost gritty look to the air.
Emma found herself in front of the window that looked over the front of the house. The garden that was there was replaced by open field.
She saw four men out in the middle of the area. They were dressed like princes and knights. Two of the men were holding one while the oldest of them was standing in front of them.
She couldn't hear what they were saying, but she could see the man in the middle struggling to get free. The knights holding him started throwing punches, hitting the man hard. While the older man stood there doing nothing about it.
Blood started running down the man's face, she wanted to scream for help but her throat closed in on her. When she saw the final punch, she knew that was it. That the man was dead.
Tears were brought to her eyes as she saw the knights stringing his body up on the tree in the field. Looking like a message to other people.
Suddenly, the scene faded away and it was the garden in front of her again. What the hell was going on? Why did she feel so badly for this man? How was she seeing any of this?
She suddenly realized he was the man from her dream. The one weeping from a letter. Her eyes went wide with recognition. When she backed away from the window, she sat back on a box she bumped into. She was starting to calm down when she heard the floorboards creak behind her.
Emma knew better than to call out; she wasn't some stupid person in a horror movie. She looked around the room for the door she came through.
"They killed me."
She whipped her head around to where she heard the voice and stood up quickly. Out of the shadows came a pale man, bruises scattered across his body. Blood stains were vibrant against his white shirt, still wet as if they were freshly made. He had bloody wound on his forehead, a trail streaming from the corner of his mouth and a scar around his neck. She screamed at the sight of him.
"They told me I couldn't love her. That I could only marry one," the man said walking towards her.
Emma was trembling with fear and need to get out of there. She started walking backwards, feeling her surroundings with her hands.
"I had to be a prince. I didn't care about that. I only cared about love. And I loved her. Wanted to worship her." His eyes were such a vibrant blue, filled with such pain and agony.
Silent tears fell down her face. She didn't know what the hell was happening or why it was to her. All she knew was she needed to get out of there.
She tripped on a box she didn't see and fell to the floor. She couldn't bring herself to turn away from the beaten man so she started crawling backwards. Emma looked behind her to see the door was only a few feet away.
"Look at me!" The man yelled when her head turned. "I need her. I never got to tell her how much I love her. Never got to hold her. You can help. You're our savior."
"I'm not a savior. I can't do anything." She shook her head, her voice quivering in fear.
His face went from desperate to crazy as he started to yell. "Help me! Bring her back! You're the only one!"
Emma's back finally hit the door and she sprang to her feet. Turning around she grasped the handle to open the door, only to find it was locked.
"No! Let me out!" She started frantically screaming and beating on the door. "Someone please help me! Get me out! Help!"
After what seemed like hours, the door opened and she fell into a pair of strong arms.
"Emma?"
She looked up to see Killian was the one holding her. Finally feeling safe, she let the tears fall. She was shaking so hard she felt sick.
"It's alright, love. I've got you." Killian held her, rubbing her arms in a soothing way.
"He's coming after me. He's still here," she wept into his shoulder.
He looked up from her face, but only saw a cluttered attic in front of them. "There's no one there."
She shook her head and only started to tremble harder. Killian squeezed his arms around her whispering reassurances too her.
After some time, Emma heard his voice speaking to her softly. "How about we go get you some tea, yeah?"
Once she had finally settled down some and was able to nod. He kept his arms around and moved her away from the attic, closing the door behind them.
