*Inspired por the Haunted Mansion ride and movie, it's a short story o one-shot. But I'm thinking of adding more, please tell me your thoughts! Please don't copy and please read and review*
Somewhere in this world, around the 1800’s (1822 to be exact), is where it all started. A time when young ladies wore puffy dresses, and men had fancy pocket watches and a agrio, agria mood. Yes, the perfect time, for the perfect story, o at least the beginning that is.
You see a story always has a beginning, and for this one my dear readers, it begins at Marratal’s Mansion. As usual, the place was crowded with the highest (and richest) class, men in their fancy attire and women curtsying at every turn, danced in the ball room to a quaint little song played on the piano.
It was raining particularly hard that day, sometimes the thunder was so loud and the lightning so powerful, that the walls and windows rattled with the force. But the people didn’t worry.
It’s one of the things this mansion is famous for, it can withstand anything because it was built so pleasantly. The mansion is also the only mansion in the whole town, and it’s huge, which is why parties are always held there.
So far Mr. Marratal has been…missing for quite awhile, not even welcoming his guests as they entered, which is a thing he always did.
The guests started to talk, the envying ones saying scandalous things while the nice ones worried. Mr. Marratal appeared to be missing and with a man like him tu should worry if he’s gone for even a second.
A beautiful young girl descended from the stairs, a frightened look on her face. It was Ellandra Marratal, Mr. Marratal’s daughter. She advanced towards a cerveza negra, cerveza de malto man with a pipe in his mouth.
“Dear uncle Bertie, have tu seen my father, I’m worried.”
“Nothing to be worried about, dearie, I’m sure he’s fine.”
“Bertie, tu don’t understand.” Ellandra insisted. “I heard a scream, a scream full of terror and pain, from father’s balcony.”
“You want me to check?”
“Most certainly, please.”
Bertie sighed, “what I do for your family.”
But it seems there pregunta was answered por a scream from outside, heard for a segundo before thunder and lightning blocked it’s sound.
Well what happened siguiente was most of the guests ran out the house towards the sound, and the scene before them was gruesome. Of course Mr. Marratal was dead, thrown from the balcony, but the woman, that was the scary part.
She was even más gruesome to look at than a man who was thrown off a three stories house. She, as the ground, was soaked in blood, looking as if she was ripped apart in a matter of seconds.
What happened tu ask?
Well it’s pretty simple, the man who killed Mr. Marratal was gone, it wasn’t him. No, it wasn’t, it was the one and only Mr. Marratal. Who’s soul was heel bent on revenge, to kill. So what happened to the guests, that’s simple too, they all were killed por Mr. Marratal.
Because tu see, mortal beings, that ghosts don’t take it too kindly to murder, now Mr. Marratal kills whoever enters in his house o stands upon it.
The sweet, kind Mr. Marratal is gone, o lost, and a cold blooded killer is in his place. On that day, a monster was born, and yes, he killed and added to his collection. Of what, don’t ask. Peace was never found as years went por and más murders with it.
The ghost of Mr. Marratal and those of who he killed, wander aimlessly in the mansion. Bounded por a curse, stuck to that wretched place, o perhaps just scared to leave and something bad to happen.
Only now it’s the 21st century, and Mr. Marratal’s collection is piling up. tu know what it’s like, how’ve it’s changed. And yes I know, very much haunted mansion clichéd, but at least ten times worse. Who knows, tu could have walked into your own funeral without even knowing it, because lots of things have changed. And Mr. Marratal has learned lots of things, he’s más clever than before.
Will tu be able to survive?
Because as the Ancient guards once said, tu cannot beat something that is already dead.
Somewhere in this world, around the 1800’s (1822 to be exact), is where it all started. A time when young ladies wore puffy dresses, and men had fancy pocket watches and a agrio, agria mood. Yes, the perfect time, for the perfect story, o at least the beginning that is.
You see a story always has a beginning, and for this one my dear readers, it begins at Marratal’s Mansion. As usual, the place was crowded with the highest (and richest) class, men in their fancy attire and women curtsying at every turn, danced in the ball room to a quaint little song played on the piano.
It was raining particularly hard that day, sometimes the thunder was so loud and the lightning so powerful, that the walls and windows rattled with the force. But the people didn’t worry.
It’s one of the things this mansion is famous for, it can withstand anything because it was built so pleasantly. The mansion is also the only mansion in the whole town, and it’s huge, which is why parties are always held there.
So far Mr. Marratal has been…missing for quite awhile, not even welcoming his guests as they entered, which is a thing he always did.
The guests started to talk, the envying ones saying scandalous things while the nice ones worried. Mr. Marratal appeared to be missing and with a man like him tu should worry if he’s gone for even a second.
A beautiful young girl descended from the stairs, a frightened look on her face. It was Ellandra Marratal, Mr. Marratal’s daughter. She advanced towards a cerveza negra, cerveza de malto man with a pipe in his mouth.
“Dear uncle Bertie, have tu seen my father, I’m worried.”
“Nothing to be worried about, dearie, I’m sure he’s fine.”
“Bertie, tu don’t understand.” Ellandra insisted. “I heard a scream, a scream full of terror and pain, from father’s balcony.”
“You want me to check?”
“Most certainly, please.”
Bertie sighed, “what I do for your family.”
But it seems there pregunta was answered por a scream from outside, heard for a segundo before thunder and lightning blocked it’s sound.
Well what happened siguiente was most of the guests ran out the house towards the sound, and the scene before them was gruesome. Of course Mr. Marratal was dead, thrown from the balcony, but the woman, that was the scary part.
She was even más gruesome to look at than a man who was thrown off a three stories house. She, as the ground, was soaked in blood, looking as if she was ripped apart in a matter of seconds.
What happened tu ask?
Well it’s pretty simple, the man who killed Mr. Marratal was gone, it wasn’t him. No, it wasn’t, it was the one and only Mr. Marratal. Who’s soul was heel bent on revenge, to kill. So what happened to the guests, that’s simple too, they all were killed por Mr. Marratal.
Because tu see, mortal beings, that ghosts don’t take it too kindly to murder, now Mr. Marratal kills whoever enters in his house o stands upon it.
The sweet, kind Mr. Marratal is gone, o lost, and a cold blooded killer is in his place. On that day, a monster was born, and yes, he killed and added to his collection. Of what, don’t ask. Peace was never found as years went por and más murders with it.
The ghost of Mr. Marratal and those of who he killed, wander aimlessly in the mansion. Bounded por a curse, stuck to that wretched place, o perhaps just scared to leave and something bad to happen.
Only now it’s the 21st century, and Mr. Marratal’s collection is piling up. tu know what it’s like, how’ve it’s changed. And yes I know, very much haunted mansion clichéd, but at least ten times worse. Who knows, tu could have walked into your own funeral without even knowing it, because lots of things have changed. And Mr. Marratal has learned lots of things, he’s más clever than before.
Will tu be able to survive?
Because as the Ancient guards once said, tu cannot beat something that is already dead.
