haunted.

the mansion

London, United Kingdom,early 1980s.

Virat sighed, as he settled himself in the carriage, opposite his husband, Rohit. He looked outside as they passed on various trees and buildings, his thoughts reflecting his life up till now.

Virat was a 23 year old submissive man, who had been married to a 32 year old Rohit. He hadn't really had a choice, for all submissives, of their time hadn't really had a choice, and his luck of-course had to play a part, he was a orphan,so the first person who asked for his hand,his guardian just let him go. He hadn't even seen his husband's face up-till their marriage day.

But his stars were at-least good somewhere,Rohit was a good man. He was rich, smart,wise and kind. He soon fell in love with him and they formed their little love nest.
Their one year anniversary was approaching, and they were on the way to see their new home.

Virat and Rohit had been anticipating their trip to the countryside for weeks. The grand finale of Rohit's anniversary gift was buying him a new mansion for their own little world. As they pulled up to the sprawling estate, they were greeted by Mr. Grayson, the estate agent, who welcomed them warmly.

"Welcome to Hawthorne Manor," Mr. Grayson said, his voice echoing slightly in the vast, open courtyard. The mansion loomed before them, an imposing structure with ivy creeping up its stone walls. The windows, large and numerous, seemed like dark eyes watching their every move.

As they entered through the massive wooden doors, the air grew cooler, and the scent of aged wood and dust filled their nostrils. The grand foyer was dominated by a sweeping staircase, its banisters intricately carved with scenes from long-forgotten tales. Chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, their crystals refracting the fading afternoon light into eerie, dancing patterns on the walls.

"This is the main hall," Mr. Grayson said, his voice carrying a note of pride. "Imagine the grand balls and gatherings that once took place here."

Rohit marveled at the sheer elegance and history embedded in the very fabric of the mansion. "It's stunning," he said, his eyes wide with excitement.

Virat, on the other hand, felt a slight shiver run down his spine. The long corridors seemed to stretch into darkness, and he couldn't shake the feeling that unseen eyes were watching them. He glanced at Rohit, who was clearly enchanted by the place, and tried to dismiss his unease.

They continued their tour, moving into the dining room. The enormous oak table dominated the space, surrounded by high-backed chairs that seemed to whisper secrets of dinners long past. The heavy drapes at the windows blocked out much of the light, casting long, ominous shadows across the room.

"This room has seen many grand feasts," Mr. Grayson commented. "The laughter and conversation of distinguished guests once filled this space."

From there, they moved into the kitchen, which, despite its size, felt claustrophobic. The ancient stoves and large wooden countertops seemed to close in around them. The copper pots and pans hanging from the ceiling glinted dully in the dim light, adding to the room's unsettling atmosphere.

Next, they ascended the staircase to the second floor. Each creak of the wooden steps seemed amplified in the silence, echoing through the halls. They found a series of bedrooms, each uniquely decorated with antique furniture and faded, ornate wallpaper that peeled slightly at the edges.

"This is the master bedroom," Mr. Grayson announced, opening the door to a room dominated by a grand four-poster bed draped in heavy, moth-eaten curtains. The air felt heavier here, almost oppressive, as if the room itself was trying to keep secrets from them.

Rohit, unfazed by the eerie atmosphere, was already imagining their stay. "I love it," he said, his excitement undiminished. "It feels like we've stepped back in time."