The Night of April 19

Death in the Manor

All characters are fictional and any coincidences to any and all events are purely fictional and for the sole purpose of viewer (and author) entertainment.

{Wilson Manor, April 19, 2025}

-o0o- 

Storm clouds raged overhead, casting the world below in varying tones of gray and a foreboding sense of darkness. Blurred visions of clouds parted, thin white arching strips of lightning striking. Electricity crackled from above, wind hollowing in suit, as nature showed its untamed fury.

Distorted voices were heard through the night's eerie silence, the startling sound of thunder roaring in the background, a deep guttural vibration shaking the silence before the storm.Past the palette of grays tainting the atmosphere, towards the row of mansions and villas resting upon inclinations of land, housing the social elite, were the source of distorted hollering.

Inside the manor of the Wilson family, three voices were heard, two male and one distinctly female, in a deafening argument. A game of cards lay innocently on the table, undisturbed, as the three figures strangely circled one another, the tension of a physical fight prowling the air, like a predator stalking its prey.

"I trusted you, damn it, and you stabbed me in the back," a male's voice rang out, face scrunched in resentment. Cerulean eyes bore into the woman's emerald orbs, animosity and anguish seeping through the man's calm facade.

"You did nothing for me," the woman spat out, equally as outraged at the man's accusations.

"Nothing," the man laughed coldly, "I did nothing for you, I did everything for you. You never cared enough to notice."

"Matt, stop," another man's baritone voice demanded. "Everything was always about the company. Even me, Scarlet was no different." The man's azure eyes locked in his brother's, as the older's hands clenched tight into fists.

"I cared about both of you, and you," Matthew gestured to them both, wincing as the sudden shift jolted his right arm cast, "pushed me away." Waves of fury passed through his muddled mind, the shock seeping into his body, igniting rage while simoutansouly weakening him. He was a public figure, a well known and renowned buisnessman, creating a empire out of ashes, but he was no saint when it came to holding back. Both in public and in private.

"We were there, We were always there, but you never were," the woman, eyes rimmed with red, screeched back. The light from the fireplace danced through her scarlet hair, and ember eyes, setting them ablaze. 

"I always did everything for you, Scarlet,- tickets, money, expenses-"

"No, you weren't there physically," Scarlet reminded him, a hard expression on her face, "you did everything virtually, but were never there physically."

"And that pushes you towards cheating on me?" Matthew hollered, barely in the mood for a civil conservation much less her strange behavior. It had endeared him once, but now it was dead to him, nothing more than burnt ashes after a fire. Discarded pathetically in the aftermath.

"Yes, because you never paid any attention to me." If he was angry, she was livid. And Scarlet was no coward. She had earned her way in life, and lavished in the luxury, but she would not stand Matthew's pathetic criticism. As if a sentence or two would stand to heal their fractured relationship.

"She's right, brother dearest," the words laced with venom at the notion of their biological relation, "you never cared."

"That's a fucking lie, Damian." A soft drizzle started in the background, steadily gaining momentum.