The Manor
I have no excuse other then my brain ran with this. Hope ya’ll enjoy! Peace!
“Mar, you can’t go to the Manor! You know as well as I do that’s its haunted! You’ll die!” Jon exclaimed during their daily video call. He loved his best friend, he really did, but sometimes she drove him crazy.
“Jon, for the last time, the Manor is NOT haunted. It’s old and in disarray, but it’s not haunted.” Marinette explained, not bothering to look up from her packing. After being friends with the Kansas native for years, Marinette had grown use to his antics.
“Oh yeah, then how do you explain all those first hand sightings, huh? The feeling of being watched? That overbearing, fearful presence? The feeling of having a sword pressed against your neck or the gun to the head? Mar, that thing is a demon hole! Psychics wont go near the place out of fear!” Jon yelled, causing Marinette’s speaks to crack from the volume.
“Jon,” she groaned, already feeling a headache forming as she turned to face her friend, pinching the bridge of her nose in the process. “And how many of those eye witnesses admitted to being drunk or on drugs, or had medical records of being mentally unstable? Ninety percent of them were! Plus they never went inside. They all said they felt it outside the Manor and that scared them off. As for the psychics, they were probably hired by Wayne Enterprises as a publicity stunt and to keep people from snooping around the Manor for the alleged will. Besides, Lila’s paying me three times my usual fee for these pictures.”
“Since when do you believe anything that comes out of that diva’s mouth? You know she’s a liar.”
“Since she very loudly asked me to in front of the majority of the school, making sure everyone heard it.” Marinette shot back.
“. . . Why the heck would she do that?” Jon asked after a few seconds of silence.
“That’s what I asked. Apparently, her great-great grandmother was a ‘dear friend of the Wayne’s’ and that ‘Bruce Wayne was in love with her and was going to ask her to marry him before the Great Fire.’ And that she wanted to ‘see where her great-great grandmother would’ve lived’. She would do it herself ‘since a dear friend of hers is a famous photographer who taught her all he knows, but in her condition she couldn’t possibly go near the haunted mansion. ‘But since I live in Arkham I’m best suited for the job.’” Marinette said, mimicking the Italian in an attempt to loosen her concerned but well meaning friend.
“Seriously? Just because you happen to live in the Arkham district your more suited to go poking around in a demon’s layer then she is? The she-devil? And does she even know how much you charge?” Jon asked, angry on his friends behalf. Just because she lived in the worst part of the city didn’t mean that she should be comfortable in the Manor.
“One, the Manor is not haunted. Two, she has no clue what I charge.”
“Oh man, is she ever gonna be in for a surprise! You charge what, $200 a session?” Jon asked, laughing at the mental image of Lila finding out how much she was going to be spending on a lie.
“That’s just the initial fee. After that it’s fifty an hour. It’s going to be at the very least eight, and triple the price, I’m gonna be making around two grand on this. More if she wants prints.” Marinette said, closing her camera pack before throwing it over her shoulder. “Listen, I gotto go. The earlier I get there, the more time I have to find the best shots. Plus, I always wanted an excuse to go explore the Manor.” She added, not even trying to stifle the snort of laughter at the horrified look on her best friend’s face. Honestly, she loved the guy, but he was almost too easy to tease. “I’ll be safe, Sunshine. Don’t worry.”
“Easy for you say,” He grumbled. “Just promise me you’ll call when you get back or if anything happens.”
“Will do. Talk to you later!” Marinette said, ending the call.
Slipping her shoes on, Marinette climbed out her window, making her way down the fire escape. Getting to the Manor took a little longer than she would’ve liked, but with her leaving at 6:00 on a Saturday morning, the city was pretty quiet. Two hours of bus hopping and an hour walk later, she found herself standing outside the giant, iron gates of Wayne Manor. Marinette couldn’t help but spend a few minutes just staring at the building. It was breathtakingly beautiful. The shear size of the stone manor made the young half Chinese girl feel small. In the daylight, the Manor looked imposing and she could only image how it appeared at dusk or in the dark. She couldn’t deny it had a mysterious, dangerous aura to it, but it also felt . . . inviting in a way.
Setting down her pack, Marinette pulled out her camera, intent on getting a few good pictures of the outside. Taking a deep breath, Marinette slipped through the bars. As she made her way up the path towards the stairs, Marinette couldn’t hold back the excitement seeping into her. Just seeing the ancient ivy growing up the walls, clinging to the stones, the, grimy and miraculously still intact windows, and the full grown trees that surrounded the manor brought a smile to her face.
Stopping before the door, Marinette paused for a second to just breath. Pushing the ancient oak door open, she was met with the smell of stale air and dust. As she stepped inside, the breath she didn’t know she was holding, released in a soft gasp of wonder. The main hall, dusty as it was, appeared to be untouched. Layers upon layers of dust covered the place, coating the furniture, paintings, and knick-knacks that decorated the entrance. Marinette wasn’t sure how long she just stood in the entry way, but just seeing how intact everything was shocking her. The Manor had been empty since 1884, when the entire Wayne family perished in the Great Fire that wiped our over half of Gotham, including most of the high class. To Marinette, it felt like stepping back in time. And if the entry way looked like this, she couldn’t wait to see the rest of the Manor.
For the next eight hours, the Manor was filled with the sounds of the clinking of cameras and the soft voice of a girl as she walked the grounds. She had stopped in what she could only assume was the main study. The room itself wasn’t one that Lila would’ve wanted included, ‘too boring’ would be her words and ‘why did you waste time in there, I’m paying you good money’. Marinette wasn’t sure what it was, but something about the room drew her in. Walking in, Marinette notice the disarray of the place. Old, yellowed paper with faded, but still legible writing, were scattered about the room, over flowing from the chaotic stacks piled on the huge oaken desk. Picking up one of the papers, Marinette couldn’t help but admire the handwriting. The elegance of the lettering was something she had never seen aside from pictures in textbooks. The gently looping of the letters drew her in, making her want to learn it. Pulling out her personal film camera, she took a few shots of the room before something on the desk caught her attention. An old bronzed picture frame with a photo of a family.
Reaching to pick it up, Marinette pulled her hand back before she could touch it. Only when she had taken a few pictures, on both camera, did she pick it up. Gently wiping the glass, Marinette found herself looking at a picture of the Wayne family, but not one she had ever seen before. In the picture the public had of them, they were all serious, like all old photographs, but in this one, they were all smiling, though she absent mindedly noted that the youngest smile looked more like a smirk. They looked . . . happy as they stared at the camera.
A crashed followed by a muffled curse shattered the moment, the noise causing Marinette to freeze. There was someone else in the Manor, and her back was to the door. As soon as that information filtered through, everything she had heard about the Manor came to the forefront of her mind. As footsteps that resounded through the empty halls drew closer, every rumor, every legend, every horror story that surrounded the place paralyzed her as a shiver went down her spine. Someone was watching her, and she was going to die.
Sometimes Marinette really wished she listened to Jon.