A New Estate - Crimson Peak

On A Dark Foggy Night at A Quarter to Three - Halloween Special - Part Two

(Part two of three.)

"So this is where you're living now? It's amazing."

I gazed around at the large foyer, its sweeping stairs and the high ceiling.

"It reminds me of home," Thomas smiled wistfully, almost sadly.

"You lived in a place like this?"

"I did," he nodded, running a pale hand along the banister of the stairs, "with my sister."

"Oh, so you were proper Victorian then."

"I suppose?"

The way his face scrunched up a little in confusion made me smile and, though I wouldn't admit it, giggle a little.

Thomas had been the new resident for three weeks, the first night he stayed with me until he was summoned to the town hall by our mayor, a strikingly tall man with too thin limbs and a face always hidden within a long dark cloak, and his new home was assigned and he could move in.

Boy did he hit the jackpot.

For as long as I'd lived in the town there had been this old, rundown and definitely haunted looking building that I could only describe as a mansion that stood empty, just waiting for the perfect resident to come along and give it some well needed horror.

The outside was what I'd always imagined if someone would say; "Describe the haunted house in a horror film."

A tall building of many floors built with almost black bricks and covered in dark, splintered wooden panels, windows that had wooden shutters that didn't close properly and clattered against the building when the wind picked up.

The ceiling was high and pointed and a few floors had doors that led to dangerous looking balconies, just waiting for a resident to throw a normal over.

It was absolutely perfect and I was glad that Thomas got it, his ghostly image definitely fit in well with the rustic browns and reds of the inside of the house.

With its peeling away wallpaper, haunted portraits and moving shadows, it was every bit as ghostly as he was.

"I think you got off damn well, this place is awesome! I'm a little jealous."

"I can tell by your enthusiasm," he smiled, his face instantly brightening up.

I liked it when he smiled, he was so handsome and it seemed a shame that it was usually contorted with sadness, there was beauty in sorrow but sometimes more is needed.

To say that I'd kind of taken to Thomas over the weeks would have been an understatement, we had grown closer over the weeks and he was the first resident to give me attention that lasted more than a few minutes.

That's the problem with cliques, they stuck together hard and fast, it was almost like being back in school and it went without saying that ghosts were too boring and people stitched up with other people's parts weren't exactly high on the social list of acceptable.

Who knew that even dead people were judgemental?

"Have you managed to talk to anyone else?"

Thomas looks at me and gives a light shrug.

"A few residents here or there, a lot of them don't seem the friendliest bunch."

"Is that a surprise considering we're all literal monsters?"

"I suppose not."

We shared a laugh and my borrowed stomach flutters, it was moments like this that I enjoyed being alone with Thomas, even if that was most of the time.

"Though I do have to ask," he continued, looking at me with a pleading look, "has anyone called Lucille Sharpe arrived here?"

I tilted my head and regarded him for a moment, pulling my lips towards my stitched right cheek and frowning as I ran names through my head.

"No, I'm sorry but I think you're the only Sharpe here."

A mixture of emotions flashed across his face, something that was between relief and sorrow.

"I see, and is there an Edith Cushing?"

I shook my head and gave a light shrug, pulling what I hoped was a look of understanding apology.

"Sorry, no."

He nodded and licked his bottom lip, giving a heavy sigh.

"Of course, I should have known she wouldn't have ended up in a place like this."

My heart lurched a little at his words and I couldn't stop myself from frowning, glancing him over while trying to convince myself that his words didn't have the connotations that it sounded like they did.

Judgemental, disapproving, disgusted.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked softly.

Thomas' expression became one of what appeared to be sudden understanding and then shifted to a scowled look of regret, like someone who had just put their foot in their mouth and knew it.

"I didn't mean it badly, I just meant that she is too pure for this town."

"Pure? As in the people here all wronged in their lives and that's why we came here?"

"No," he sighed, fumbling for words before giving up, "she just shouldn't be here."

"And she isn't, so I guess she's saved from us."

"That is not at all how I meant it."

"That's how it came across."

"I can only apologise, I suppose I am merely projecting for what I did when I was alive."

"And what exactly did you do to make you think everyone here is a literal monster?"

I folded my arms, I knew I was getting defensive and could feel the tenseness that was set in my face, but I was genuinely feeling offended.

Thomas stares at me silently, I'd imagine mentally contemplating whether he should reveal all to me or remain silent.

I knew his decision had been made when he shook his head and looked away.

"I can't tell you, you would think ill of me," the saddened frown returned and I didn't care for a second that I was the one pushing it.

"Of course," I rolled my eyes, feeling my anger flare that little bit more, "then I'll tell you what, when you stop being such a self-loathing piece of work, you can come and find me."

Storming out and speaking to him so badly was something I regretted for the rest of that night, I felt awful and could barely sleep through the guilt that burned in my chest when I thought it all over.

I had taken things too personally and acted irrationally, upsetting Thomas when all he needed in this town was a friend.

I needed one as well.

In the hopes of finally getting some sleep, I told myself that the next day I would go and apologise.