Trigger warnings.
December, 2018
"Crimson Peak, huh" y/n huffed as she closed the laptop on her lap. Enough with ghost stories, she told herself, staring blankly into nothingness outside the Taxi window. There was no other car, no house, no tall building, no people quickening their pace down the street. Not even a single tree to be seen. The road was simply surrounded with nothing. Just a long, endless route across the enormous empty land, isolated from busy city life and outside would. Snowflakes falling lightly from the skies, it covered everything in white. Somehow making the atmosphere appear even lonelier, more depressing. Y/n sighed softly, closing her eyes and wiping a tear, she didn't register rolling down her cheek until she reached up and touched her cold skin, away. It was the bitter memory she wished she could forget.
"Baby, please!" He didn't listen to her desperate sob. He never did. Oliver roughly threw her bruised-up-from-the-recent-beating onto the bed, crawling on top of her and tearing what was left of her dress apart in no time at all "No, I don't want this. Please!" Silly little girl should have known better and kept her mouth shut. Her protesting and squirming beneath him only resulted in yet another hard slap across her face. He was doing this again. Y/n shut her eyes tight, the sound of him unfastening his belt made her feel so sick. She cried out in raw pain as he forced his way inside her. It hurt. Her body wasn't ready for this. Not after it had just been through a dreadful hit he called 'lesson' As always, Oliver ignored her crying. He kept thrusting, slamming his entire length in and out until he finished inside her. And all y/n could do was lie there like a rag doll. She felt so dirty, so disgusted with herself. After all, she was his thing, his property, and he could use her however, whenever he pleased.
The metallic taste on the tip of her tongue broke y/n out of her trance. She didn't even know she was biting her bottom lip until it bled. Y/n reopened her eyes and more tear rolled down her cheek, she quickly wiped it away. The driver glanced at her from the rearview mirror for a second before his eyes returned to the road up ahead. One second was enough for him to see the cut lips and bruise under her eye. It started to fade away but still visible enough to spot. Though the fifty something man behind the wheel didn't ask her a question. Why'd a young lady crying on his backseat, with evidences of assault, heading to a secluded mansion once home to two psychotic siblings who murdered their own mother and dozens of innocent women was none of his business. And so he just continued driving.
She needed to run away. Y/n needed to escape from her abusive boyfriend. She have had enough. She had to go somewhere far away, somewhere he'd never find her. Allerdale Hall was the first result that popped up after she googled 'low price house for sale' The Gothic mansion was built in the early 20th century, once in its glory during Victorian era. Though, given how the house was pretty much still in a very good shape, the price would have been much higher, if not for its chilling history that made everyone want to stay as far away from the place as possible. Who in their right mind would want to live in a house where countless amounts of people died in it. But y/n was desperate. She needed to run fast and far. Pushing the whole murder things asides, the house seemed to be just the answer she was looking for. So she packed her belongings, bought her plane ticket and took a first flight to northern England.
Twenty more minutes passed and, eventually, y/n was able to see the huge building looming up ahead. Allerdale Hall. The Taxi took a turn into the gates and y/n tilted her head backward a little so she could take in the sight of her new home. Lord, it was bigger than it looked in the photos she saw on internet. Shoot, she was in such a hurry that she bought it on a whim without even coming for the house touring first. Despite how elegant it was, y/n couldn't help but feel as though there was something dark lurking behind the dull windows, looking down at the yellow car entering its territory. She slightly shook her head at her nonsense imagination. It must be because of those articles she'd read about the house's previous owners - Sir Thomas Sharpe and Lady Lucille Sharpe. Because of the horror of the crimes the Sharpe siblings committed, the house had been on the market with no one shown interest in buying it... until y/n came.
The Taxi came to a stop and y/n paid the driver, stepping out with only one suitcase. The sound of tires screeching away was the only thing she heard before silence took over everything again. It was so quiet y/n could almost hear the sound of snowflakes falling on the snow-covered ground. The girl looked up at the giant mansion hovering over her, the dark shadow landed on her made her feel smaller than ever. Y/n gulped. The thought of living alone in a secluded house once belonged to two murderers wasn't her cup of tea, but as long as she could hide from Oliver then she wasn't going to complain. Just tried not to think about the ghost stories those people talked about, it's only to scare a child, y/n convinced herself.
~~~
Standing behind a tinted window on the second floor, Thomas looked down at a girl in weird clothing getting out of a strange car. The vehicle wasn't like the ones he was familiar with when he was alive, but then again, Thomas reminded himself of how long time must have passed since he died, how much technology must have changed while he was trapped here, unable to keep up with the world. The living. His gaze glued to her, Little Miss Living. God, Thomas didn't even remember when was the last time he saw a person whose heart was still beating - it just felt so... long. When was the last time, when was the last time, he tried to think, then he recalled it. Though he suddenly regretting it the moment he realised the last time he'd interacted with a living was when he had his goodbye with his wife, his beautiful Edith. Sadness crept up his unbeating heart. Ever since that day, she never returned. He didn't blame her. Considering what he did, she had no reason to come back. Shaking the thought of Edith out of his head, his attention returned to the girl. May he dared to think she was beautiful. He wouldn't compare her beauty to Edith's, but she was beautiful in her own way. Yet something made the ghost's brows furrowed - she looked so sad. Why would she so sad? Who gave her those bruises? And what was she doing here? What's that in her hand she pulled out of her jacket? Oh, no, was that a key? Dear Lord, please, don't let it be a key. It was a key. She... bought the house?! His house. She bought his house. Sir Thomas felt that sinking feeling weighted in his chest. What bothered him wasn't having the ownership of Allerdale Hall taken away, but the fact he knew Lucille wasn't going to like this. She was possessive. She hated people messing with her things. Thomas really didn't want to witness his sister hurting anyone anymore, he didn't want to be a part of her madness and jealousy. Even though he refused to speak to her and avoided her at all cost after she killed him, Thomas could already feel the dark energy radiating from his sister from somewhere inside this mansion. The poor girl - the newcomer - had no idea she was putting her own life at risk. And all Thomas could do was sigh in pity.
~~~
Taking a deep breath, y/n inserted the key in the keyhole, twisting it open, she tried not to dwell on the unpleasant sound of heavy gates scratching against the floor. After a few seconds of standing still in awe at how luxurious the interior was, y/n entered the building. Whether or not she liked it, Allerdale Hall was now her only home.
