Quiet Manor

Dr. Watson gave Sherlock the pamphlet that read "The Legendary Quiet Manor" on the outside and the back story on the inside. The looks of it were creepy, but it had been deserted for over a century now, so I guess it would be expected. Just by looking at the picture, you could practically see the lightning streak behind it. "Come on, Holmes. We're always solving crimes, can we just take a small vacation?" Watson urged.

"Oh yes, let's take a vacation in the middle of nowhere, in a deserted mansion, and just enjoy ourselves for a bit. Sounds nice." Sherlock mocked as they walked towards his London home.

"It's not just a deserted mansion, Holmes. It's an adventure! Did you even read the inside of the pamphlet?"

"No. I have no interest in urban legends."

"Just-"

"No. Now, look at this, I'm home. Good day, Watson." Sherlock marveled as he stood at the foot of the stairs.

"But-"

"I said good day!" And with that, Sherlock closed the door, threw the pamphlet onto the dresser, and made his way to the kitchen. It had been a long day. Inspector Wells had called at four o'clock that morning with the case of a twenty-seven year old male who had apparently been strangled with some kind of fabric or cloth. He was positive it was a suicide, but there was a slight shadow on his neck where the assailant would have attacked him with his bare hands.

It was now six o'clock in the evening, so Sherlock was ready to just sit down, cup of lapsang souchong tea in hand, and just read the paper. Just as he sat down, the phone rang with that annoying high-pitched ring. Sherlock threw his paper down onto the end-table and made his way over to the source of the annoyance. Rubbing his temples, he picked up the phone. "Yes?"

"Yes, is this Mr. Holmes?"

"May I ask who's calling?"

"Hoho but of course. This is the staff at Quiet Manor. We would like to inform you that you have been invited to our grand opening."

"Grand opening of what? The place is an old, dilapidated nineteenth century mansion. It's not something you would call a 'grand opening'."

"But you see, Mr. Holmes, Quiet Manor is a Legendary mansion that has been sealed off to the public until now. We here would like to-"

"Yeah yeah yeah, I've heard enough. Just go back to your underground chamber or where ever you came from. Bye." And with that, Sherlock hung up the phone. Just so happens, the phone was on the dresser that the pamphlet was thrown down on earlier. He still had no interest, but he might as well check it out.

The front showed a picture of what looked to be a run-down, weather-trodden, rickety place. How could such a place even fathom a "grand opening", Sherlock thought. He opened it to the first page that read "Back story". Should he even bother to delve into such an urban legend? It is quite odd that he got a phone call from the same people who were on the pamphlet that was right beside it. Nonetheless, a little reading never hurt anyone.

He read the first paragraph. "Welcome to the story of Quiet Manor," such a cliche' opening statement, "We do hope you decide to come and stay for a while. Now, you're probably wondering why this home is called Quiet Manor. It all started around a century ago.

"This was someone's home, as you've probably guessed by now, but a tragedy struck the family at it's very beginning. The father, Sir Chance Willmington, was strangled to death by his loyal butler. (loyal because he had been within the family for thirty years). The mother, Lady Katherine Willmington, found Sir Chance hanging from the rafters in their attic. She was naturally devastated, but had to quickly regain composure for the sake of their two year old son.

"It's said that she buried him somewhere within the estate. It was hard to tell if it was a suicide or a murder due to the rope burns on the neck, but the butler's bold ring left an all-too-familiar imprint on the side of his neck.

"Lady Willmington lived out the rest of her days at the said estate with her two children. He son (Benjamin) and her daughter (Olivia). She was pregnant when the tragic event happened. She was looking for just the right way to say if, we believe, but Sir Willmington never got to see his baby girl or even know about her.

"We never found out why the butler would've done such a heinous act. Lady Willmington was never the same, though she lived out her days with her children acting like she didn't mind. Like she didn't remember what happened all those dark nights ago when no one heard her husband's screams.

"Now that you've had a short back story, hopefully we've piqued your interest and you'll join us for our grand opening this Friday."

And that's how the first page ended. "How peculiar." remarked Sherlock as he laid the half-read information booklet down. He let a soft yawn escape him. It was now seven in the evening, which is still earlier than most people go to bed, but it had been an exceptionally long day for him.

After he had walked to the bedroom, changed into his bedclothes, and covered up quite snugly, he drifted off with the thought that he would call Watson in the morning. He may want to go to this old, dilapidated mansion after all.

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[A/N] Okay, I'm really sorry if this is short and terrible. I did this in 2/3 hours I think, but here it is! I'll have the next one up soon so it's not too too short. Xx