Disclaimer: Crimson Peak is Guillermo Del Toro's property, Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke, The Lodgers to Brian O'Malley. Emma, Constance and myself are self inserts. The old lady from Camden Market belongs to Chibimelodee.
Summary: Ghosts are real and everything happens for a reason. Is this why Marina and her friends find themselves trapped in Allerdale Hall a few days away from Christmas?
Author's note: This story was written for me by Chibimelodee as an Advent Calendar two years ago. Please note that all three of us are french and while we do know our way around english, we might still make some mistakes. Feel free to let us know!As the three girls are french and start to speak from this chapter, I'll put the translastions of their sentences right next to them so you know what they say.
At the candlelight
Chapter 1 : Waltz of the Snowflakes
Tom Hiddleston was singing loudly, his voice echoing in the small car. Since the beginning of their journey, the three friends were listening to his cover songs of Hank Williams, comfortably sitting in the black Kia Picanto. Marina was singing off key, slightly dancing while driving safely in the left side of the road. Emma was fast asleep, rocked by the road while Constance was smiling dreamily, watching the English countryside rolling past the window.
When you are sad and lonely and have no place to go
Call me up, sweet baby, and bring along some dough
And we'll go honky tonkin', honky tonkin'
Honky tonkin', honey baby
We'll go honky tonkin' 'round this town.
Marina still couldn't believe it. She was in England, travelling with her friends to see for the first time in forever her favorite actor, Eugene Simon. Emma and Constance had surprised her with an early birthday gift by planning a tour in London for a couple of days before heading straight to see him in his new play For King and Country in a small village, lost in the countryside of Cumberland.
The three girls had spent an amazing time in the capital city, strolling through the best parts of London. The two sisters had introduced Marina to Camden Market where they all had the time of their lives. The three friends had discovered an old tiny shop full of mystery. It was so full of clothes and other ancient items it looked it was about to explode. Which brought the young women inside was the odd atmosphere, like frozen in a moment of the past, where only the dust on the shelves seemed to indicate the time that had passed. No other souls seemed to wander in this deserted place but a tiny little old woman whose face was wrinkled. Only her head was popping out of the counter. She stared at them with her big bright eyes, giving her the look of an inquisitive owl before she disclosed a partially toothless smile. With a surprising nimbleness, she hopped from behind the counter and went to be in front of the three friends. With a crooked finger, she pointed a corner of the shop and jogtropped towards it, humming with a creaking voice : « Follow me ! ». The friends shared a doubtful look and followed her without saying a word. The tiny old lady seemed to disappeared behind a rack of various clothes where she began to madly throw a lot of items to them, each throwing followed by a joyful « For you ! ». Once pleased of her distribution, the odd tiny woman reappeared, rubbing her hands with glee, showed them a small fitting room and jogtropped with a smirk back to her counter, where she stared at them again with her bright eyes.
Marina curiously picked up the first garment of her pile of clothing, her eyes popping out in front of the beautiful dark crimson corset which was embroidered with golden threads. Admiring the finesse of the item, she whispered to her friends : "La gérante me fait flipper mais je dois avouer qu'elle a vraiment bon goût !". Smiling at her, the two sisters nodded while Marina kept looking lovingly at the corset, turning it in her hands to contemplate each details. Her eyes darted to the small label and she groaned in frustration when she saw the price. « Je crois que je vais passer mon tour… » she sighed, looking defeated.
« Ca ne coute rien d'essayer ! » Emma encouraged her friend with a smile. « Va vite dans la cabine d'essayage ! Allez, ouste ! On t'attend pour regarder ce que la vieille là-bas nous a choisi… » (It costs nothing to try it on! Come on! Quickly! Go to the dressing room! Come on, off you go! We'll be waiting for you while looking at what the old lady picked for us...)
The last sentence was whispered with a wink, the woman glancing surreptitiously at the old owl at the counter. Laughing softly, Marina disappeared behind the curtain of the fitting room. Minutes later, she reappeared. Sure, it has expensive but it fit her like a glove. She loved how she looked like a true Lannister with it. It matched perfectly with her long black skirt she had brought in her luggage.
« Marina, tu es superbe ! » Emma exclaimed (Marina, you are beautiful!)
Constance was smiling at her, slowly encouraging her friend :
« Marina, pour une fois dans ta vie, fais-toi plaisir ! On n'a qu'une vie ! Si tu ne le prends pas, tu vas le regretter… » (Marina, for once in your existence, treat yourself! You only live once! If you don't take it, you're gonna regret it!)
« Oui, mais… » Marina started. (Yeah but...)
« Marina » Constance interrupted firmly. « Le prix s'oublie, la qualité reste ! » (Marina. Price is forgettable while quality remains!)
« Ah, Constance » Emma giggled « Audiard n'aurait pas mieux dit. Bon Marina, tu n'as pas le choix ! Audiard a parlé par la bouche de Constance… ». The youngest of the three laughed and went to pay it before she changed her mind. (Ah Constance! Audiard wouldn't have phrased it better. So, Marina, you don't have a choice! Audiard spoke through Constance's lips...)
The youngest sister, after a lot of time searching in the huge pile of clothing that lay before her, had chosen a very lovely dress all made with black laces, the details showing roses entwined with skulls. The clothing was the perfect weight for her to feel comfortable in her wheelchair, the lace curiously not itching her very sensitive skin. The long sleeves were loose, so they would not hurt her arms. Emma had also picked a very lovely bright pink corset to match with her pink locks of hair which framed her round face. To go with the corset, she had also chosen a tight leather trousers - of course not too tight around her tights -, beautifully decorated with roses. A knee-length Victorian-styled coat sublimated the outfit.
As for Constance, she had particularly liked a very lacy beige skirt, knee-length at the front, falling on the ground on the back. Several layers of fabrics fell graciously around her waist and swayed with her every move. The eldest had also found a light brown corset to her liking, with cogs and others steampunk items embroidered on it. A wings-spread crow was plastered on the cleverage, its eyes a bright red. A dark nightgown had also been added to her shopping list, the silky fabric shining in the sunlight, matching with the sparks of blue in her eyes. Some small diamond-like stones were sown at the end of the dress, sparkling like millions of stars. Its pearled sleeves were stopping at the elbow, offering a place for some bright white gloves. The long dress was falling on the ground in a magnificent train.
After the fittings, Constance went discreetly to her sister and whispered :
« Je te donne l'argent et tu vas payer ? » (I'll give you the money and you pay?)
« Tu peux y aller Constance, tu sais » Emma winked. « Elle ne va pas te manger » (You can go, you know, Constance? She isn't going to eat you.)
« Elle va me parler en anglais » Constance squealed, looking horrified, shoving her purse in her sister's hands. (She's gonna talk to me in english...)
« Oui, c'est normal… Il y a de forte chance qu'elle soit anglaise » her sister rose an eyebrow at her, trying not to laugh at her sister's distress. (Yeah, that's normal... There are high chances she might be english.)
« Justement, c'est toi qui parle anglais » (Exactly. You're the english speaker one.)
Constance pushed her sister in front of the counter and retreated as fast as she could. While Emma was paying for their purchases, a sunshine fell on a small item, making it shimmered, catching Constance's eyes. Taking cautious footstep, the young woman went to admire the bronze hairpin, which seemed to call her. The old piece of jewelry was a delicate moth, intriguing art-nouveau patterns shining. It was quite strange that she was attracted by it, this kind of insect not really her favorite. She much more preferred the finesse of butterflies or the joy that was brought by ladybugs. Moths were definitively not insects she liked but nonetheless, there was something alluring about this pin. She needed to have it.
Seeing the want in her sister's eyes, Emma quickly waved at Marina to grab it so she could pay for it. She just couldn't resist but to offer it to her older sister. Constance was delighted surprised by this sisterly surprise, mentally taking note to also buy her a gift later.
We're goin' to the city, to the city fair
If you go to the city then you will find me there
And we'll go honky tonkin', honky tonkin'
Honky tonkin', honey baby
We'll go honky tonkin' 'round this town.
They were now in the middle of nowhere, going straight from London to a small village with an unpronounceable name. It was a long drive, especially for the first time in England. Driving in the opposite side of the road had been difficult at first but soon, she had taken her marks.
« Constance » Marina called her friend on the back seat, « tout va bien ? On ne t'entend plus… ». The eldest smiled brightly before she answered in a small voice, avoiding waking her sister up : « Tout va très bien. La campagne anglaise est superbe ! Il faudra vraiment qu'on revienne pour aller voir la maison de Jane Austen dans le Hampshire… Et la ville natale de Shakespeare ! C'est vraiment superbe ! Stratford-Upon-Aven… » (Constance, everything's alright? We don't hear you anymore!) (Everything's fine. The english countryside is beautiful! We definitely need to come back to see Jane Austen's house in Hampshire... And Shakespeare's hometown! It's really splendid! Stratford-Upon-Aven… )
« Quand tu veux ! » Marina exclaimed happily. « Dis, c'est normal que Mélo se soit endormie en même pas deux minutes ? Je sais bien qu'elle dort vite avec son cachet mais là, elle en a pas pris… ». (Whenever you want! Say, is it normal that Mélo has fallen asleep in less that two minutes? I know she sleeps quickly with her pill but today, she didn't take any...)
Constance laughed softly, watching the sleeping form of her sister from behind. « C'est tout à fait normal, ne t'inquiète pas. Elle dort toujours en voiture… Quand tu t'arrêteras la prochaine fois, tu veux que je vienne devant ? » (That's quite normal, don't worry! She always sleeps when she's in a car... At the next stop, you want me to sit besides you?)
The music stopped abruptly and Marina cursed under her breath… Not again ! They still had 4 hours to go, and the thought of 4 hours without music…
« Qu'est-ce qui se passe ? » Constance asked, leaning forward to take a look at the old CD player. (What's going on?)
The small screen was dead, no sign of life showed when Marina tapped slightly on it.
She sighed and muttered under her breath : « Bon, le reste du voyage se fera sans musique… Désolée, mais c'est une vieille voiture… Ça fait longtemps qu'elle n'a pas roulé autant… ». « C'est pas grave » Constance answered, shrugging « On va parler à la place. Dis, tu as lu le dernier chapitre de notre fic ? Je crois que j'ai exagéré, j'ai écrit dans les 6,000 mots… » (Well, the rest of the trip will be musicless... Sorry, that's an old car... It's been a while since it drove so much...) (No worries. We'll chat instead. Say, have you read our fic's latest chapter? I think I overdid it, I wrote about 6.000 words...)
The rest of the journey went smoothly, Emma sleeping for the entire time. The conversation between Constance and Marina had been changed from their story – where Marina absolutely wanted that Victoria ended up with Kenneth while Constance insisted that the dear Vicky married poor Loki – to the upcoming play. Constance was a little worried about not understand everything that was going to happen as she understood English better when it was written than if it was spoken. Thanksfully, during their trip in London, her sister and her best friend had done all the speaking.
All the fanfictions Constance had read in English - thanks to Emma - had greatly improved her vocabulary but her shyness stopped her from trying to speak this language. Even with what Vartan – Emma and Constance's fabrics supplier – had reassured the eldest of the two sisters by telling her that her accent was cute, she still refused to speak English. She was born French, so she would speak French. End of discussion. Anyway, Marina has comforted Constance, telling her that she and her sister, would help her translate what she didn't understand.
The youngest of the three friends was so excited she kept jumping on her seat. In a few hours, she was going to see Eugene Simon in real life, watch him in a play and - she really didn't know how the two sisters had managed it - she was going to have half an hour with him alone ! Marina swallowed hard, trying to prepare the questions she was going to ask while staying perfectly calm. That would be a complete challenge : she didn't know how she was going to react. Either she was going to stand still and mute, as pale as Death, or she was going to speak very fast and loudly and he would not have a chance to speak.
Night was slowly falling, covering the road with its darkness. Snow was covering the landscape at an alarming speed. The snowflakes danced graciously, making the sight from the inside of the car look like they were in space, flying at light speed. Laughing soundly, Marina began to hum the Star Wars theme, making Emma growled in her sleep.
« Quel réalisme ! » Constance laughed softly « On a même Chewbacca ! » Her sister groaned again, just like as if she had heard the sly comment, slightly moving to find a better position in the small vehicle. (Such realism! We even have Chewbacca !)
A loud sound came from the motor, drawing Emma into a barely conscious state.
« Qu'est-ce qui se passe ? » She asked, a hint of sleepiness still in her voice. (What's happening?)
As to answer, the motor coughed loudly. Marina's eyes lingered on the dashboard, trying to figure what was wrong. Snow kept falling so much that she had problems seeing the road even for one meter ahead as the car began to spit a dark grey smoke. Cursing under her breath, Marina tried using the windshield wipers for a better view but the blasted weather was blocking her sight. The snowflakes gave the impression that the billions of stars kept falling down, waltzing through the cold air. Looking at her pocket watch, she noticed they still were at an hour-drive from their destination.
The Kia coughed again, shaking violently before stopping abruptly. The three friends looked at each other with fear, silently praying that the car would restart normally. Marina tried several times to turn the key on, but unsuccessful with every trials. Catching Constance's glance in the rear mirror, she whispered, trying hard not to panic :
« Essaie d'appeler la police ou autre... ». (Try and call the police or someone...)
The eldest nodded and, while she dialled fast on her cell phone, asked shakily :
« On est où au juste ? C'est complètement désertn ici, on est beau mileu de nulle part ! Je te préviens, dès que ça décroche, je te passe le téléphone, Emma ». (Where are we exactly? This is completely deserted here, we're in the middle of nowhere! I'm warning you, as soon as someone picks the call, I'm giving you the phone, Emma!)
Her sister's only answer was a long yawn and, unfortunately for them, the phone didn't ring at all, a no-signal logo flashing on the small screen.
Constance's face paled, showing her phone to the others. Their pulses raced, colors drained of their faces, their breathing becoming shaky from fear. But no… No. They couldn't freak out. Their hearts were pounding and their palms were sweaty. Fear shot up from the sole of Emma's feet and crackled through her entire body like an electric wave, threatening to take off the top of her head. She shook so violently her sister had to slap her – not so hard – to make her stop.
« Qu'est-ce qu'on fait ? Qu'est-ce qu'on fait ? Qu'est-ce qu'on fait ? » Emma kept asking, her arms wrapped around herself, slightly rocking back and forth. (What are we going to do? What are we going to do? What are we going to do? )
« On attend qu'une voiture passe pour demander de l'aide » Marina suggested, not really convaincing but after looking through the windows, murmured : « Enfin, si quelqu'un passe parce que je ne sais même pas si je suis encore sur une route… La neige monte à une vitesse alarmante, j'y vois rien ! ». (We'll wait for a car to pass by to ask for help. That is if someone passes by because I don't even know if we're still on a road... The snow's level is rising alarmingly fast and I can't see anything!)
« Sortons et essayons de trouver quelqu'un… ou au moins une maison » Constance tried in a shaking voice. « On va geler si on reste dans la voiture… Déjà que ce ne sera pas facile avec le fauteuil de Mélo, alors si on attend, avec toute cette neige sui tombe, ça sera impossible de sortir de là !…Marina, tu peux prendre nos sacs ? Avec ce temps, je ne suis pas sûre qu'on puisse faire redémarrer ta voiture ce soir ».(Let's bail and try to find someone... Or at least a home. We'll freeze if we stay inside. It's already going to be hard with Mélo's wheelchair so if we wait, with all of that snow falling, it'll be impossible to get out! Marina, can you get our bags? With this weather, I'm not sure you can turn on your car tonight.)
Putting on their warmest coats, Constance and Marina went out first to retrieve the wheelchair in the trunk. Handling the chair was really difficult in snow, the ground was already covered by several centimetres. Visibility had shrunk to a ring of no more than a half dozen meters across. A gust of bitter wind ripped the air out of Emma's lungs and slapped her full in the face as she went to sit on her wheelchair, the seat already white with the snow. A flash of intense cold made the three friends shiver.
« J'ai froid, j'ai froid, j'ai froid, j'ai froid… » Emma whispered, mimicking Anna of the animated Disney Frozen, wrapping in several layers of blankets. (I'm cold, I'm cold, I'm cold, I'm cold...)
The scene might have been funny if she was truly being frozen. Her sister was grunting with an effort to push the wheelchair and had to ask the help of Marina to manoeuvre it together, the thick snow making it almost impossible to make it roll through it. To break the seriousness of the situation, Marina began to sing, always in a cheerful mood. She was absolutely sure all was going to be fine, even if she didn't see the damn play…
When you and your baby have a fallin' out
Just call me up sweet mama and we'll go steppin' out
And we'll go Honky Tonkin', Honky Tonkin'
Honky Tonkin', Honey Baby
We'll go Honky Tonkin' 'round this town
After half an hour of intense walking and pushing – even though they were sure they hadn't covered many meters with the wheelchair, a tall frame of what seemed to be a house began to take shape from afar. A faint wavering light seemed to indicate life in the house.
Marina, excited by the discovery which gave her hope, yelled : « Regardez ! Il y a de la lumière ! Je suis sûre qu'on pourra trouver de l'aide ! ». Emma, with a dramatic air – and to try to forget the cold began to sing. (Look! There's a light! I'm sure we can find help!)
In the velvet darkness of the blackest night
Burning bright, there's a guiding star
No matter what or who, who you are
There's a light over at the Frankenstein Place
There's a light, burning in the fireplace
There's a light, light in the darkness of everybody's life
Constance rolled her eyes, and, gaining momentum to push the wheelchair, sighed : « Si tu veux Mélo ! Je suis même prête à te faire le Time Warp Again à condition qu'on ne soit plus sous la neige…. On est en train de se transformer en glaçon ! ». (If you want, Mélo! I'm even willing to do the Time Warp Again for you if we aren't under the snow anymore... We're transforming into icicles!)
« Oui, mais, » (Yeah but...) her sister nodded before she began to sing again, gently mocking Constance :
« Je suis un très très très gentil glaçon
Un peu con je l'ét...ais déjà au fond ! »
(I'm a very very very kind icicle, a little dumb but I already was that way deep down.)
The eldest mumbled something under her breath, still manoeuvring the damn wheelchair and softly slapped the back of Emma's head.
They went out on a muddy white road, leading them to the mansion. Everyting was desert, smoggy, lifeless… Not even a singing bird or a noisy beatle… But after all, they were in the middle of a snowstorm.
A bleak house stood at the end of a long path, surrounded by skeletal trees. The sight of the supposed to be once-magnificent estate now fallen into such terrible ruin stunned Marina and Constance, Emma being blinded by the white cover of snow everywhere, studded by what appeared to be blood-like stains. Constance repressed a shiver which was clearly not due to the freezing air. This place was truly eerie. The building was clearly outdated. The stairs leading to the door was wrecked. The facade was dirty and some bricks were missing.
Despite the light coming out from the house, the place seemed abandoned and left in ruin, but right now, all the three friends wanted was a warm room and a phone which worked.