No warnings, one mention of blood bags for vampire reasons at the end, spooky scary skeleton haunted mansion vibes
It’s almost a weekly occurrence that some poor sod from out of town gets stuck during a bad storm and has to knock on the big, heavy wooden doors of the gloomy old manor to seek shelter for the night.
The shivering stranger will be greeted by a dusty, empty foyer, cobwebs everywhere, the candles of the chandelier just slightly illuminating the hallways.
And they will always be greeted by a beautiful man wearing a cape and carrying a chandelier who will introduce himself as “Sir Trencil Varnnia” and welcome them to his “humble abode” before cryptically mentioning that he and his daughter already ate, but the guest room is all set and he will bring up some food for their guest, because, after all… would be awful if they would feel… drained… from such an unfortunate night yes?
The entire place is just a bad omen, there is hardly any electricity anywhere, the curtains are drawn, the room is far to decadent for a simple stranger to visit and all in all, most people who stay in the Vancey / Varnnia household fear for their life during their first stay.
… that is until they awaken the next morning, neck unbitten and blood unsucked, to a teenage girl knocking at their door, annoyed and apathetic as teens are, and invites them down to the kitchen because
“Dad made breakfast.”
It is then , in the just slightly more lit light of the sun falling trough the crack of the curtains, that guests will notice the place is actually entirely made up out of pastel colored and frankly gaudy furniture and architecture.
It’s still a bit gloomy, mostly because the curtains are still partly closed, but thats undercut by the framed paintings of cats on the wall and the crossstitches of bats and the pictures of a rather chunky looking baby with just slightly pointy teeth in various (slightly embarrassing) baby situations.
The teenage girl leads them trough a corridor with no windows, reacting a little confused and annoyed when they fail to follow right away, before her eyes widen and she goes “Crap! You aren’t scotopic.” And claps her hands, making the overhead lamp (Tiffany style) spring to life with a hum.
“We are still getting the electricity set up.”
She states, as she continues to lead the confused visitor towards the kitchen.
“This place is old as mothballs, so dad’s been having issues with the lightning… could just hire an electrician but he just gooootta do it himself...”
They finally arrive in the more brightly lit kitchen to see the same man as the night before, now wearing a full coverup dress, a wide brimmed sunhat with a veil, together with a face mask and sunglasses.
“Good morning.”
He states, muffled, while flipping a pancake with the ease of someone who has been doing this for a hundred of years.
“I apologize for my… getup, but you see, the sun does not agree with me as it does with my daughter.”
He pulls the veil aside to lean over to her and kiss her temple through the mask and she fails to hide the smile as she rolls her eyes.
He motions a (gloved) hand to indicate that their visitor sit at the table and as they do, confused but relieved, the only thing that just slightly alarms them are the red bags they just catch a glimpse of as the girl opens the door to the fridge. Guess they’ll just gotta stick to coffee this morning.
