A Tale of Wretched Occurrences: The Beginning

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

"No," you hear a man's voice say.

    You frown. Did he... forget to open the door?

    "Hello," the voice repeats. "Hello, hello, hello." A pause. "Hello. Hello."

    You're about to ring the doorbell again to remind the person inside that the door is still closed when there's a squeak. A blue eye glares out at your group through the peephole, then quickly backs up.

    From inside the house, you hear the clinking of several chains as well as the squeak of someone closing the peephole. There's a couple seconds of silence and then–

    "Hello."

    The door swings wide open. "Hello, hello, hello, children."

    Your gaze drifts down from the odd hairline and unibrow to the tattoo on the man's bare ankle. It's an eye. Almost the same exact eye design as the one on Klaus's spyglass....

    "I am Count Olaf," the man continues. "The renowned actor" — he begins to speak in an eloquent accent as he dramatically lifts his hand — "and your new guardian." His voice returns to normal and his hand quickly drops back down to his side as he completes the sentence.

    You and your siblings stay silent.

    "You're welcome," Count Olaf says, as if it was obvious you should have thanked him.

    "...Thank you," Violet replies, confused.

    "You're welcome," Count Olaf repeats. "Please! Come in, and mind you wipe your feet on the mat so you don't track in any mud." His voice begins to lower, but quickly raises again as he adds, "And don't forget your enormous fortune!"

    He stands to the side, unblocking the doorway so you can get inside. You honestly wouldn't have minded if he didn't move.

    "Welcome to my humble home, orphans." Count Olaf moves to close the door, but Mr. Poe, oblivious as ever, barrels past his outstretched arm. "And..." he stutters, "a man with a hat on."

    "Poe," Mr. Poe supplies.

    "Actually, I'm about to be very wealthy. So if you'll excuse me–"

    "No, we spoke on the phone. I'm from Mulctuary Money Management."

    Count Olaf frowns. "Hm. 'Money' sounds familiar, but–"

    "The bank," Mr. Poe interrupts him again. "I'm from the bank." He holds out a business card.

    "Ah, yes, the bank." Count Olaf takes the card. "Well, welcome to my humble home."

    Mr. Poe coughs on Count Olaf, and he flinches back, disgusted.

    "It does seem to need a little work," Mr. Poe chokes out in between coughs.

    Count Olaf glares at Mr. Poe out of the corner of his eye. "Well, I realize it's not as fancy as the Baudelaire mansion, but perhaps, children, with a bit of your money, we'll be able to fix it up, make it nicer."

    "Oh, Count Olaf, the Baudelaire fortune is not to be used for such matters. The Baudelaire will is very specific as to how the children are to be raised in case of a wretched occurrence."

    "Ah, yes, the fire," Count Olaf says with mock sadness.

    "They're to be raised by their closest relative–"