|It's the Fear
Author: Bereavement PM
Life turns rough for the Carey family once Neville's father Jarvis dies. Will the afterlife be even worse? Slash. Rated T for language and violence.Rated: Fiction T - English - Mystery/Supernatural - Chapters: 4 - Words: 5,300 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 3 - Follows: 2 - Updated: 10-08-11 - Published: 06-12-11 - id: 7075288
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Author's Note: This is my first submission, so hopefully everything went through okay. Leave a review and do not be afraid to give me suggestions on where to go with the story.
Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything from Luigi's mansion; all characters belong to Nintendo.
October 24, 1989
Neville's father passed away the other day. We've only just heard a few hours ago. My husband has locked himself in the bathroom and won't come out and the twins cried themselves to sleep weeping over their dear old 'Grampy.' We will be leaving to the mansion in a couple of days to read off the will. It is odd; I would have thought everything would have gone to his wife. But, then again, she is going senile. It wouldn't be safe for her to be roaming about a three-story mansion. I just pray Neville's sister Petunia does not show. I know it has been years since we last met, but she has always—
"L-Lydia." A sorrowful voice broke the silence.
"Neville, dear, are you alright?" said Lydia as she tucked her diary underneath her pillow. "You've been in there for hours. I had to break the news to Henry and Orville alone. Come, lie down." Lydia patted Neville's side of the bed gently. Neville climbed into the bed, shaking as he pulled the covers over him.
"My father's dead." He said for the first time while leaning on his wife's shoulder.
"I know, dear. It'll be okay," said Lydia as she moved closer to him and brushed her fingers through his hair. "Everything will work out just like it did when my mother passed. You'll see."
The next day, a Wednesday, was long for the Carey family. Hardly a word was spoken as Neville and Lydia began to pack clothes and other belongings for the car trip waiting ahead. Lydia knew the stress was not good for the baby she had been carrying for about eight months, though there was not much she could do to avoid it. Immediately after finishing packing, the family drove off to the mansion. The drive lasted a little over four hours. Neither Lydia nor the twins had ever seen it before; Neville's parents always visited them, not the other way around.
"Are you sure this is the way?" she asked as Neville took a turn into a dark, swamp-like forest. "It doesn't seem safe. The trees all look dead!"
"It's in the middle of autumn. The leaves have fallen, that's all."
Suddenly, a shady looking mansion began to loom out over the trees. Lydia's jaw fell open in disbelief. The twins stopped fighting over a toy car to let out ooh's and aah's.
"You lived here?" said Lydia, still taken aghast.
"Why are you acting so surprised? I must have told you dozens of stories from my childhood."
"I just didn't expect it to be this big!"
As they drove through an open wrought iron gate, Lydia could have sworn she heard a whisper saying "turn back." She turned to look out the window of the car to try to find the source of the whisper, but only saw a couple of crows flying off from the top of the gate and into the forest. After pulling up in front of the house and getting out of the car, a tall, balding man in a suit was at the door waiting to escort them inside. A dog could be heard barking from the back yard.
"I see you're still working here, Shivers," said Neville.
"Miss Carey is waiting upstairs in the parlor. Would you like me to take your bags?" said the butler in his usual chilling tone of voice.
"That would be lovely," said Lydia. The family followed the butler upstairs from the foyer when the door leading to the parlor creaked open. An old woman who looked like she was in her seventies was waiting at the door for them. Shivers pointed the family toward her and took the bags through a door leading into the west wing corridor.
"Nana!" cried the twins while rushing up to hug her.
"Orville! Wilbur!" said the woman, looking glad to see them.
"It's Henry, Nana! You know that!"
"Yes, of course, Henry. I was just testing you," she said, trying to cover up her mistake.
"Mom! How are you doing?" said Neville as he reached out to give his mother a hug. "Is anyone else here yet?"
"Oh, I don't think it has quite sunk in yet. And no; you're the first to arrive. Sit down, sit down."
"If you don't mind me asking," said Lydia politely, "how did he go?"
"Oh, you know Jarvis, always meandering about on his expeditions with Weston. I think it was a tad too cold for the old man out in Siberia. Speaking of Weston, he should be here shortly with Jarvis's ashes and… Lydia! I didn't realize it had been that long into your pregnancy! Can I feel the baby kick? Do you have any names picked out?" She shuffled over to Lydia and put her fragile hands on her pregnant belly.
"Oh! What a strong kick the baby's got! I bet it's a boy!" said Nana as Shivers returned to the group. He was rather quick for an old man.
"I'll get the door," groaned Shivers while rolling his eyes at the woman's senior moment.
A little over a minute later, a short, stocky man in a parka entered into the parlor. In his hands he held a white ceramic vase.
"Weston!" called out Neville as he stood up from an antique wooden chair.
"Brother!" said Weston as a smile began to grow on his face.
"Is that him?" said Neville softly. Weston nodded and his smile began to fade. "Let me take him off your hands." Neville took the vase and set it on the top of a waist-high bookshelf, between two unlit candelabras. "So, I hear you went to Siberia. How was it there? Other than the obvious tragedy, I mean."
Weston shivered at the mere thought of his trip.
"We weren't there long. Especially dad," he sighed. "It was his idea to go in the first place. It was like he had a death wish or something. I had to tag along to make sure nothing would happen to 'em. What good that did, eh? Had 'em cremated as soon as I could. He always said that he didn't want nobody gawking at 'em when his time came. I figured he would have wanted it this way. Besides, it was cheaper goin' back with carry-on than with another passenger. Not that it mattered; the bloke was damn rich." Weston babbled on about his trip for another thirty minutes or so. It seemed that talking was his way of coping with loss. "They say in Oymyakon that you can blow a soap bubble and it'll freeze in mid-air! Dad wanted to see it 'emself. In fact, the first thing he did when we arrived was test it out. Sure enough, they froze and hit the ground—"
"Oh, Weston! You're such a good storyteller! Sound effects and everything!" cheered Nana, having another moment of senility.
"That sounded like it came from the foyer! Where are the twins?" said Lydia as she began to panic.
Neville and Lydia excused themselves from the parlor to see the twins standing over a shattered ornamental vase. Shivers had both hands on their shoulders, keeping them from making an escape.
"He did it!" said the twins simultaneously while pointing at each other.
"They were running up and down the stairs when one of them brushed by one of Miss Carey's vases," said Shivers, frowning down at the children.
"What were you thinking?" cried Neville.
"What if that were your grandfather in that vase? What would you do then? Your lungs would be filled with his lungs! Shivers, could you take them to their room?" said Lydia.
Shivers guided the children to their room and Lydia sighed heavily while looking down at her belly.
"I hope you don't ever grow up to be as wild as those two," she said.
"Be careful what you wish for, Lydia," said Nana. She had been watching from the doorway. "The world works in the most mysterious ways."