Crimson peak re-telling (Reader x Tomas Sharpe)

ℭℌą℘ţℯr X

A night at Crimson Peak

"This is it, my love. This is Crimson Peak."

Your breath caught in your throat and the blood drained from your face. Lucille cocked her head at you, intrigued apparently, but you were too lost in the memory of your mother's warning to notice. Your fingers started to tremble but Thomas merely grinned at his home, not noticing you had gone stiff beside him.

Beware of Crimson Peak, your mother's ghost had warned you not once, but twice. There was some part of you that thought perhaps you would never see the day when Crimson Peak became a reality. Perhaps it was your writer's imagination that had conjured a prophecy you would never fulfill. But as the looming gates grew larger, and the giant house came into view, the reality sunk in. You were here, at the place where you were warned never to go. How were you to know that was the name of the estate? Thomas had never mentioned that name. What forces awaited you in that old house that were strong enough to wake your dead mother's spirit for a warning?

You tried to level your breathing and focus on what was immediately around you. Perhaps your mother's warning was not as severe as you had thought... But when you thought back to her pained ghostly face, you knew that was not true. You focused on Thomas' warm hands in yours, trying to find comfort there. You ignored Lucille's hard stare and tried to push the warning from your mind.

Pulling up to the large, wooden doors, the cab driver walked around to open your door. Thomas slipped him some money and he began unloading your luggage as Thomas' hand slipped around your waist and led you towards the house. It felt as though the house was breathing, creaking with each blow of the wind. The wooden doors stood at least twice your height, laced with iron decorations. The house itself was made of an old wood. You noticed some places where it rotted through to the foundation and grimaced. Some windows on the upper levels were broken or missing panes. The snow that covered the ground was sparse and revealed dead grass, but mostly red earth beneath it. When you stepped on the snow, you saw your footsteps looked like blood. The romanticized version of the house in your head was nowhere close. Thomas had said the house was not in great shape, but you did not expect this level of decay.

Noting your confusion over the redness of the ground, Thomas leaned in to explain.

"It's the clay. The red clay makes the ground look like this, hence the name 'Crimson Peak,'" he smiled warmly at you. Although you were feeling very out of your element, Thomas' smile did provide a sense of home.

Walking closer to the large doors, you noted at least ten black moths. Some of their wings had brown patterns on them, but for the most part they were black as night and still. One fluttered as Lucille crossed in front of you and placed a large key into the lock. She turned it with some difficulty and the door's lock clicked open. She returned the key ring to her side and pushed with most of her weight against the door. One of the moths fluttered and landed on her shoulder; she did not seem to notice.

Thomas led you into the house. The main foyer was large with a ceiling so high you would not have seen the top had it not been for the hole in the roof. A long staircase lay to your left and a balcony with a hallway followed it above. You stared up at the missing roof, again realizing the differences between your expectations and reality. Some snow from the room sifted in through the opening and landed on a square of floor beneath it when the wind blew. The patch of floor looked weathered and you did not trust it enough to stand on it.

Lucille walked confidently into the foyer and stood next to the patch. She turned abruptly and looked at you seriously.

"Do not go in the basement," she said with a quick flicker of her attention to Thomas. "It is not safe. The clay is mined down there and there's all sorts of Thomas' equipment. We wouldn't want our new bride to injure herself," she gave a sadistic smile, "Or worse."