The Incident at Hartford Manor Part 1 (Patreon)

Once again I've let myself go completely overboard with this commission. So much so I now have to release it in two parts so I can keep to my self imposed schedule. Luckily I found a pretty great spot to cut this first section at. Hopefully y'all don't mind the teasing too much! I should have the second part done around this time next week at the very latest!

Estelle Hartford was a beautiful woman. By any sane metric she was a beautiful woman. Even on her worst days she was a beautiful woman. And the night of her husband's latest party she'd never looked better. Dressed in an eye catching and preposterously expensive red dress that made her richly bronzed skin pop she should've been the only thing anyone could look at. With her silky black hair done up in an elegant bun that showed off her sultry, angular face she should've been the center of attention the entire night. Her long, shapely leg coquettishly peaking out of the slit in her gown as she stood with an arm subtly lifting up her flawlessly sculpted and enviably large breasts  to enhance her already incredible cleavage should've been the topics of conversation. The way her incredibly curvaceous, fantastically buxom yet not at all fat body was hugged by her elegant, backless dress should've been the reason her husband was throwing the party in the first place. How deep and soulful her sparkling brown eyes were and the delicate curve of her plump lips and strong nose should've sucked in every last person there and never let them go. Until she wanted them to go. Even among the many beautiful women dragged to the event by their wealthy, aging sugar daddies she was without a doubt the most gorgeous one present. In no small part for adding a splash of color to the sea of pale skin and black attire everyone else seemed fixated on wearing.

Yet for some completely unfathomable reason nobody could talk about anything except the completely idiotic trinkets Mr. Hartford had brought back with him from yet another trip to Africa, Asia, and indeed anywhere else with antiquities his money could steal away. Aside from a few sidelong glances upon first arriving none of doddering old colleagues had paid her so much as a single glance the entire evening. Not even their mistresses, wives, and escorts had thrown her a dirty look! Estelle might as well have been an ugly piece of furniture for all the attention she was getting that evening. An ugly piece of furniture shunted off to one side while a parade of increasingly hideous 'artifacts' were shown off to the apparent delight and awe of everyone except her. From the moment everyone had gathered in the trophy room and the first supposedly valuable item was brought out to be admired, then delicately placed on it's special plinth the crowd had been absolutely enthralled with every misshapen vase and poorly made cup as it was revealed. All while she stood in the back of the room nursing a glass of champagne and scowling so fiercely it was a wonder none of the more delicate items in the room didn't shatter under the wight of her glowering. If they had it might have at least put an end to the fawning and cooing his guests seem determined to do with every single item.

“And this treasure—”

“Junk.: Estelle murmured as she tipped her glass up and gulped down another dose of champagne.

“—was a prized mask of the Satiwi tribe in the jungles of Africa!”

As the crowd reacted with over exaggerated amazement to a roughly hewn chunk of wood riddled with splinters and ineptly painted Mrs. Hartford rolled her eyes, “I'm sure that's what your fool of an expert told you.”

Mr. Hartford placed his oh so special mask on the face of a mannequin head already waiting for that exact item and reached down into the large box from which he was pulling his endless collection of trash. Estelle turned away from him to refill her drink and upon returning to the trophy room she found him holding aloft a stone basin covered in the sort of scribblings a toddler might make when left alone with crayons for too long. Indeed many of them could've been drawn by her own children a few years ago. The thought was as musing as it was annoying and her ire only grew when she considered just how much her husband had probably spent on that hunk of shaped rock. Although he never gave a price, to her or to the rest of his guests, she actually tracked their finances and kept abreast of his often rampant spending and there was little doubt the exorbitantly priced, oversized bowl he was showing off would stray towards six figures or more. She'd have to have another word with his accountant about his absurd spending. Then a word with him about the little parties he was throwing. Any even where she wasn't the center of attention was an event wasted as far as she was concerned but adding injury to insult with overpriced garbag peddled by conmen to gullible fools was too far. He could have his fun for now but once al the guests had left and the garbage carefully arranged in cases undoubtedly more valuable than the things they were holding she'd have a few choice words for her partner.

It took three more glasses of champagne and God only knew how much wasted time for him to finish showing off the newest parts of his collection. But of course that was far from the end of it. Once all his nonsense had been unpacked it was time for questions, answers, and even more fawning. As well as discussions of where to pillage and plunder next. Or as her husband and his friends would say 'explore' next. Few if any of the other women in attendance participated in that side of the conversation. Few if any would ever go along with one of those expeditions and most were wholly uninterested in being there in the first place. Estelle almost pitied them as they stood there with glazed eyes and bored expressions while the men that'd brought them talked endlessly about nothing. She certainly knew that boredom as well as any of them but she also knew it was the price they paid for the lifestyle they got to lead. And considering what she knew about the sexual habits, or lack thereof, of the men they'd accompanied they had little room to complain. Especially as the conversation invariably winded down and the promise of a lavish dinner loomed ever the party. Both her guests and the hostess herself had that in common as well. Once the meal was finally served and talk of 'artifacts' had finally been buried in a shallow grave she could return to being the center of attention once more. She could return to being the source of every wandering eye, jealous look, and most importantly endless and sincere fawning from Preston. Even without all the others staring being the apple of her husband's eye was all she really wanted and certainly all she cared about whenever his attention wandered elsewhere.

Sadly even the end of show and tell wasn't quite the end of the matter entirely. “I've just remembered!” her husband announced, “I have one last prize to show! But I've left it in the other room!”

“Would you like me to fetch it darling?” Estelle asked. Every head in the room turned towards her exactly as she hoped and for a shining moment she was back where she belonged. Then Mr. Hartford spoke and they all looked to him.

“Nonsense my love! We can all adjourn to the dining room to enjoy it! Dinner is very nearly finished and we can discuss the item over hors d'oeuvre!”

Instantly and completely despondent by the unexpected turn of events she did her best not to give away just how annoyed she was by that prospect. Instead she adopted a light, cheerful tone as she said, “Very well! Right this way everyone!”

“Oh you needn't trouble yourself dear! I'm sure they all know the way to the dining room by now!”

Flashing the same wide, fake smile she always used whenever she was concealing a profound sense of annoyance Estelle nodded at her husband's joviality, the only thing keeping her from outright scowling about the whole thing, and nodded. She gestured in the direction of the dining room but subtly stepped out of the way of the departing guests, quietly slipping out of sight entirely to drain her champagne glass and stew for a moment.  Everyone else, including Preston himself after a moment or two of looking for his wife, walked out and she emerged from behind a large display case filled with rusting metal shards purported to be swords. She clanged down at her empty glass and heaved a little sight, not at all interested in following the rest of the party. It wouldn't be long before she was noticed though so rather than trying to hide away in her own house she chose to remain in the last place she wanted to spend her time. Setting down her now useless crystal she folded her arms and sauntered through the rows upon rows of display cases, plinths, and other furniture propping up a collection of worthless artifacts. Someday she'd have to call in an actual historian or three to verify the garbage her husband had acquired over the years. He'd always opposed the idea under the auspice of not needing some egg head telling him what was and wasn't valuable but hearing the actual worth of his collection might help deflate his enthusiasm for spending money it. Having her own suspicions confirmed would be a nice little cherry on top of it all.

As she walked by a set of half broken clay dishware she couldn't help but say aloud, “I'll start with you lot first.” A smile found it's way onto her face as she imagined throwing the officially confirmed trash away and it only grew wider as she approached one of the many antique vases. “I bet I could find something exactly like this at the thrift shop.” Estelle continued to comment on and muse about each and every item she passed, occasionally tapping her fingers against the glass cases housing them as if to punctuate her remarks. “I doubt the pages have any ink left.” She stated as she looked down at the diary of a famous explorer, though his name constantly escaped her.

As she strutted around a large, rectangular case full of yet more tools and weapons from some ancient civilization Estelle found herself drawn towards the newest additions to Preston's collection. Despite being in the room as he showed them all off and reading the manifest when they'd been shipped into the country in the first place she hadn't paid the slightest bit of attention to what it all actually was. In part because she remained convinced much of it wasn't at all what it was cracked up to be. Although using 'cracked' to describe any of the items in question certainly wasn't incorrect. Of the twenty or so pieces that'd been collected the only thing not sporting some sort of significant damage was the exceedingly large stone basin sitting near the center of the room. Aside from the various markings no doubt carved by shiftless crooks or sweatshop workers it was in relatively good shape. Compared to everything else in the room. Compared to the rest of the house it was weather beaten and looked older than most of the doddering men at the party combined. It was also massive in the most cumbersome way possible, taking up most of an entire table and looking heavy enough to warp the sturdy wood beneath it. At least as big around as her arms if not wider the thing was at least a foot deep if not more and without a doubt the most obnoxious piece yet to be added. Estelle could've loaded up many of the other items around it into the basin and still had room to drown it all in a nice coating of gasoline. That thought melted her annoyed look into a smile as she turned away to look at the mask sitting on it's mannequin face. The sounds of chatter from the dining room were starting to filter in and there was little doubt someone, likely her husband, would be coming to find her soon.

Her smile took on a particularly lascivious bent as she turned away from the door and flattened her palms against the table that hideous basin was resting on. Sticking her ass out just enough to show if off without being overtly sexual she pretended to be staring at the collection of moldering manuscripts on display across from her. All while knowing giving her man the best possible view of her wide, round buttocks and inviting him to do whatever he wanted with that sight. It was a game they'd played many, many times in the past and while he hadn't been around much to indulge because of his travels now that he was home she saw no reason not to have a little fun. A quick fling in the trophy room while dinner was being prepared would be just the thing to distract her from mundane conversations. If she was lucky Preston might forget all about his stupid relics entirely. It'd never happened before but if anything was going to wipe his mind clean the sight of her fantastically toned yet undeniably jiggly ass bouncing up and down on his cock would sure do it. The fantasy alone was enough to send her thoughts straying towards infinitely more interesting subjects. But as she leaned over the basin and bit her lip she didn't hear the sounds of approaching footsteps or indeed anything except her own elevated heartbeat and little snippets of banal conversation. Which at first only heightened her excitement and sent her glancing backwards over her should with increasingly giddy smiles. But after a minute or so of posing and waiting she started to give up on being found by her man. And of stealing away with him for a bit of pleasure. By the time three minutes had passed she'd all but given up entirely.

With a sigh she straightened and looked around the room for want of something to spare her the inevitable conversation about artifacts and travel. Nothing arrived to save her and she turned to face the door with the air of someone marching towards the gallows. Not two steps later she stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of dripping water, “What the hell?”

Immediately assuming a burst pipe or some other leakage she cast her gaze towards the ceiling with an annoyed huff. Although their tun of the century manor hadn't been nearly as obnoxious as most stately old buildings it certainly wasn't immune to problems and she'd quite had her fill with them over the years. But as she looked around for the source of the rhythmic sounds of dripping water only to find a totally dry ceiling and totally dry walls her frustration turned into confusion. Still very much convinced it had something to do with the pipes running through the house she checked behind shelves, cabinets, display cases, and anything else that might be hiding the leak. She found nothing except a growing sense of bemusement as the sound continued unabated despite her best efforts. It was only after she'd searched every part of the room she could without shifting things around that she took a second or two to actually listen to the sounds reverberating through her ears. As she folded her arms and let out another little huff she turned her head towards the noise and squinted her eyes, listening hard for any clue about where it might be coming from. At first it'd sounded almost omnipresent within the trophy room, like it was being played through multiple speakers at once to taunt her. Yet as she focused her attention solely on the noise she started to get a feel for the true source. Just as she started to notice another peculiarity that made her brow furrow and her eyes narrow even further. What she'd assumed was a simple leak from a burst or broken pipe didn't sound right at all. It didn't sound like water dripping onto a solid surface. Instead it sounded like water dripping into a pool of water. Like the sort of sound one might hear deep in a watery cave or half submerged cavern. How she was hearing such a strange sound didn't matter nearly as much as why, at least in Estelle's mind, although she certainly spent a good bit of time wondering about both as she slowly tracked the noise back towards the center of the room. Back towards the stone basin near the center.

Very much convinced it was still somehow a part of her home that'd broken, even conjuring up images of a pipe leaking over a standing pool of water somewhere out of sight, she didn't even glance at the basin or the artifacts around it. Instead she dropped to her knees and searched beneath the table, then all around it as if expecting to find some slowly spreading wetspot in the polished wooden floor. Of course she found nothing and when she stood up it was accompanied by a frustrated groan as she leaned hard against the table and muttered darkly under her breath. Just as she was about to storm out of the trophy room entirely and make a call to one of the craftsmen she actually trusted a flicker of movement caught her eye and stopped her dead. A strange chill rippled through her body and goosebumps erupted across her tanned skin. Her eyes narrowed once more and she turned back towards that odd little flicker of motion. Towards the basin. Intrigue gave way to confusion as she looked down at the stone bowl to find it completely filled to the brim with a murky black liquid. Although she didn't know why Estelle immediately recoiled from the discovery. Taking a full step back she stared down at the inexplicably full basin with equal parts fascination and revulsion. She couldn't say why she felt either sensation, but neither could she push them away. Even as she stepped a bit closer to peer at the strange substance her whole body wanted nothing more than to turn away and run. A voice in the back of her mind demanded she do so while a different one urged her forward. Urged to step even closer. Urged her to bend over the basin and peer into the depths.

Against all sense and logic it was that voice she listened to. Somewhere in her tumultuous jumble of thoughts she realized the sound of dripping water had completely stopped but that little fact was far from her greatest concern. As her trembling fingers spread out across the table once more a profound sense of fear gripped her heart. A primal fear. An animalistic fear. A sense deep within the most bestial parts of her consciousness all but screaming that she turn away and flee from that place. From whatever was within that basin. Estelle knew she should've listened to that instinct but the fascinating allure of whatever was in that liquid called to her like nothing she'd ever known in her life. With a softly exhaled whimper she leaned more completely over the basin, peering into it's shadowed depths and waiting for something, anything, to happen. Her heart raced as beads of sweat dotted her brow. A nervous shiver ran down her spine and the urge to flee in terror grew ever more palpable even as nothing happened. Higher and higher her fear climbed, every thunderous boom of her heart elevating the terror inside her a little bit more until it was nearly unbearable. Until it seemed she might explode from the anticipation. Then, just as she was about to give in and turn away, the deafening sound of a single drop of water falling into the basin tore through the otherwise silent trophy room. Crying out in surprise and throwing herself backwards Estelle landed hard on her rump as she covered her face and flinched away from the sound.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins and a pure, undiluted fear cascaded through her every thought. Without even knowing what she was recoiling from she scrambled backwards several feet before stopping to gasp and stare at the basin. Though she couldn't begin to see anything occurring within it the sound of dripping water and her own wild thoughts conjured all manner of strange and horrifying sights. Had the table and it's mysterious artifact not been between her and the sole exit she might've fled from the room entirely, crawling on her hands and knees as fast as her trembling limbs could carry her. But the prospect of turning her back to what might be going on, to go past it as vulnerable as she was, terrified Estelle more than anything else that'd happened. Acting entirely on instinct she pulled herself up onto her suddenly trembling legs and leaned heavily against a nearby cabinet as her eyes darted from the basin towards the door. As if she was cornered by some terrifying wild beast and unable to sneak past. Each second she remained was another fraught with uncertainty and worry, another she spent abjectly terrified yet overwhelmingly fascinated by whatever was going on. With the same sort of intrigue one might experience looking at a grisly accident she timidly focused her eyes upon the liquid within the basin after avoiding it for what must have been minutes or even hours. And what she saw within immediately pulled her back towards it in spite of every facet of her conscious mind begging her to turn away.

With the cadence and rhythm of a metronome the water continued to drip as she drew near the basin once more. But as she slowly pulled her gaze down towards the murky liquid within she finally noticed the ripples spreading across it with every soft plop. Radiating outwards from the very center of the basin until they reached the edge each was perfectly timed to ensure the one that followed and the one that preceded never interfered. It was strangely perfect in the most inhuman, unfathomable way and no matter how long she watched Estelle couldn't make sense of what she was seeing. It simply defied every explanation or understanding she might've concocted. But if the mystery of how those impossibly symmetrical ripples were possible boggled her mind the mystery of what was making them truly baffled her. No water was dripping from above, no endless trickle of fluids from a broken pipe was visible to justify anything she was seeing. The most obvious and rational explanations had fallen completely flat the instant her mind tried to levy them. Looking up at the ceiling all but confirmed there was no understandable cause of whatever was going on. No cracks in the wood from which an endless dribble could leak down and fill the basin.

Not even the slightest hint of damage or degradation. It was perfectly smooth. Completely unblemished even while the sound of dripping water continued unabated as she stared upwards. And of course the longer her gaze remained locked upon the familiar and comforting sight of her own home the harder it was for her to eventually turn back towards the basin beneath her. To once again submit herself to whatever strange and deeply unsettling things were taking place within the stone vessel. Good sense very nearly won out again as her eyes slowly moved away from the roof over her head and down across all the comforting sights around her. All the signs of her life, of her husband, of her world spread out across the room. The door through which she could leave if she only had the courage. The one and only exit and safety from whatever might've been happening. But the siren song of that impossible mystery called her back and no matter how hard she tried she simply couldn't resist it's allure. No matter how fiercely she struggled her gaze drifted lower and lower despite her desires and before long she was staring back into the depths of the basin once again. Yet instead of murky water shrouding the aged stone around it she found a reflection of the room she was in. A mirrored image of the sort often found within reflective surfaces. And for the briefest of moments relief gripped her heart and a strange sense of comfort washed over her. It vanished in a heartbeat as she noticed what actually lay within that supposed reflection. Though it was superficially the home she knew and loved so dearly there was no trace of the warmth and coziness she'd built with her husband.

No trace of the soft lights always glowing within it or the comfort provided by a place truly one's own. Instead it was a dark, inhospitable place being shown to her. A revolting facsimile of what she'd known. Of the familiar and safe. Everything about it was wrong in a thousand subtle ways wholly beyond her ability to voice aloud. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as she stared down at the thoroughly repugnant view of her own home. Estelle felt nothing but loathing as she looked at the muted colors and miserable atmosphere shown to her. Nothing but a deep, unfathomable desire to never witness such a thing again. Every bit as visceral as her fear it all but consumed her even while she stared at it for far, far longer than she ever intended. Longer than she could truly bear. Long enough to finally notice hew own reflection was nowhere to be found within the water. Every other facet of the room around her, abhorrent as it might be, was shown and yet her own face remained entirely absent from it all. She couldn't begin to guess why that might've been but as she peered even deeper into whatever was filling the bowl and showing her such visions she did finally glean an answer to a question that'd been plaguing from the very beginning. Within the twisted replica of her husband's trophy room there was a crack in the ceiling directly above the basin. A crack slowly dripping that very same murky liquid that'd filled the basin in the first place. Barely visible beneath the ripples and so fine as to almost be a figment of her imagination it was there. Thoughtlessly leaning forward until her nose was almost touching the surface of the water Estelle was certain of what she was seeing. There was no doubt in her mind!

“What on Earth is going on?!” She gasped, abruptly straightening as a violent shiver coursed through her body. A deep, bone chilling cold closed in around her the moment she straightened and her suddenly ragged breath arrived in billowing gusts as she cried out, “Oh my God!”

The once warm and comforting sight of her home all around her had twisted and melted into that same grotesque, lifeless imitation she'd glimpsed within the basin. No longer was she standing in her husband's warmly lit trophy room surrounded by his trinkets and knickknacks. Without so much as a sound she found herself standing in the perverse reflection of it, surrounding by hollow, dead imitations of everything she knew so well. Instead of the soft, hospitable glow always present within every room of their home she was surrounded by a pale, colorless light. Dimly flickering from the half broken bulbs fitted in their sconces and filtering into the hallway beyond from the open windows it was all at once chilling and revolting. Everything was cast in a dreary pallor that left it feeling empty and bereft of even the slightest glimmer of life. Perhaps even more horrifying were the countless inconsistencies and differences between where she'd been and where she'd ended up. Everything save the basin resting between her clenched fists was subtly off. Subtly misplaced and changed. As if someone had attempted to recreate the room and it's contents solely from memory. The quiet wrongness of everything around her was terrifying and no matter how long she stared at her artificial surroundings the feeling of dread and revulsion remained as strong as ever. But it only grew stronger when she eventually looked back to the basin that'd caused it all to find an even more horrifying sight awaiting her. Through the ripples still spreading across the water's surface as it dripped endlessly from above she spied not the same horrid reflection she'd seen earlier but rather that sight of the home she'd just left. Of the warmth and happiness she'd taken for granted time and time again.

The warmth and happiness now denied to her as she stared at it as ifr from behind a window. Gasping with every labored breath she leaned down over the vessel and stared deeply into the image of her home. Peering more intently than ever before she hoped and prayed to return. To wake from whatever nightmare she was having and find herself right back where she belonged. But as the cold around her crept deeper into her bones and her misty breath added new ripples to the surface of the liquid she knew she wasn't going back. Somehow, on some unspoken and horribly intuitive level, she understood she was trapped. Perhaps forever. Perhaps only for a short while. It was impossible to say and the fear pressing down upon her heart like a vice made it impossible to think. In a truly desperate act of frustration and terror she pulled her face away from the strange liquid and submerged her hand within it instead. But as her fingers plunged into the neither cold nor hot fluid she succeeded only in distorting the image being shown to her. In warping it as she would any other, genuine reflection. Wholly despondent and unable to think of any other outcome she pushed even more of her arm into the fluid. Though unsettled by how strangely empty and unlike any fluid she'd ever known it was her frantic need to return home overshadowed everything else. And when her thoughtless actions bore no fruit she recklessly plunged her other hand into the 'water', further stirring up the liquid and ruining the one and only link she had to her home.

Still nothing happened and her abject terror only grew as she splashed about in the basin like a drowning child. There was no telling how long she might've stood there, slowly freezing to death with her arms submerged in a strange liquie and her face a mask of terror had she not felt something slimy and sinuous brush against her skin after a few moments. Touching the back of her hand like the caressing fingers of a lover the sensation lasted only a moment before vanishing but in that moment revulsion and horror swelled up inside Estelle's body. In a shower of fluids she tore herself away from the basin, staggering backwards until she slammed into a cabinet that very much wasn't normally there. Or perhaps it was. It was difficult to tell as all the air rushed out of her lungs and she slumped against the cold wood. She didn't notice her hands and arms were completely dry despite the fluid very clearly soaking into the table beneath the basin. She didn't notice the reflection within the vessel slowly fading until only that same murky black liquid was left. She didn't even notice her own unintelligible whimpers as she tried and failed to say something, anything, in response to whatever was happening. She didn't notice because another sound had filled the empty facsimile of her home. Another sound echoed out across the silence in a howling madness that eroded all sense. She wasn't alone.

The air itself seemed to vibrate with a low, rumbling tone. All at once artificial yet horribly organic it was a sound unlike any she'd ever heard. And it filled her with a primal revulsion that sent shudders through her entire body. Her eyes darted towards every shadowed nook and forgotten cranny as if hoping to find what was causing that sound. Even as her mind recoiled at the very idea of seeing the true source. Whatever made that horrible utterance was surely even worse than the lifeless imitation of her home and the world she'd just left. Surely it would be more unbearable than anything she could ever imagine. What else could cause the unmitigated fear spreading through her body? What else could turn her blood to ice? What else could send the most violent shivers tearing down her spine? Truly she couldn't say. Estelle only knew she desperately wanted to never find out. Lurching towards the murky basin once more she stared into it's depths with a hopeless longing as the sound vibrating the very foundations of the building around her grew ever more discordant. As if other 'voices' had joined in some mad chorus. Though she did her best not to listen the wretched sounds clogging the air seemed to infest her very soul as she cried out to the unthinking, unfeeling stone vessel that'd taken her away from everything. Even if she couldn't bear to touch the unearthly liquid inside or whatever might've been lurking beneath the shadows her growing terror and desperation compelled her to try everything else she could think of. Screaming, begging, cursing, shaking the container, even attempting to tip it over and refill it. But nothing worked.

Nothing made the slightest bit of difference and those blood curdling noises were only growing more numerous. Strange, dissonant musical notes had joined the cacophony by the time she thought to push herself away from the table and stagger towards the door. A sound akin to a hundred flutes piping madly out of key and out of time accompanied the rest of the maelstrom and no matter how terrified she was to leave the trophy room she couldn't remain within it for a moment longer. Neither her mind nor her body could bear the jarring sounds battering from every angle. But as she stumbled into the hallway she'd walked down a thousand times or more and found it every bit as cold, empty, and unseemly as the room she'd just left it was near impossible to know what to do or which way to turn. The clamor was deafening and any thoughts she might've had were drowned in it long before she could think them. Estelle could only cover her ears and hurry down the dust covered carpet and towards something, anything else. Staggering into the foyer offered no relief from the sounds or her own terror. Only more hopelessness as she instinctively looked towards the yard outside her home to find a twisted, barren impersonation of her home. Yet another crude imitation inelegantly attempting to pass for the real thing while simultaneously standing as it exact opposite. Every bush and shrub was twisted and hunched like some wretched figure, the trees were bereft of leaves, the road was uneven and pockmarked with missing cobblestones, and the sickly light suffusing it all added a grotesque pallor every bit as revolting as the rest.

The shadows it cast seem to squirm and shift of their own accord, even as the source seemed not to move in the slightest. It made for such a dreadful sight she very nealry froze on the spot the moment she cast her gaze outwards. But when a soft creak of shifting wood echoed down from the top of the nearby stairs, somehow piecring the cacophony around her, she bolted towards the door without a second though. Refusing to see what might be lurking above sh threw open the peeling wooden slab and hurried onto the porch as fast as her feet could carry her, all the while breathlessly crying out for help. No help was given and she descended the steps in a blind panic, nearly tripping over her heels and the hem of her gown. Upon reaching the path she hurried down it without a second thought. She neither looked back nor around her, instead staring solely at the gate sitting on the far end of her property. None of the intricately fashioned shapes within the iron work were the same and even the stone around it seemed it pale and colorless but she didn't care. She couldn't care as she sprinted forward. In a small mercy it flung open with a piercing screech and in the blink of an eye she was staggering down the winding, tree lined path that led towards the edge of her husband's estate. Or whatever passed for such things in the nightmare she'd found herself. And it wasn't until she'd very nearly reached that edge that she thought to slow down for even a moment.

Gasping for breath and clutching a stitch in her side she flattened a hand against the nearest trunk. Her mind fought hard against the terror slowly creeping into her every thought and action. Against the still deafening sounds piercing and droning through the air all around. In yet another fit of desperation she cast her gaze towards the heaven as a prayer formed upon her lips. It died in her throat the very moment she laid eyes on the source of the pale light illuminating the world around her. Neither sun nor moon the glowing orb poised in the heavens defied explanation or reason. Even without knowing what she saw Estelle knew she was horrified by the sight. By the sickly glow shining off it and by the altogether peculiar way it seemed to hang in the air so unlike what she'd known all her life. In much the same way as everything else even the 'sun' was wrong and terrible. Just another cheap copy attempting to pass for the true article. Or so she thought.

Just as she was about to look away and continued fleeing with neither plan nor reason the orb in the sky moved. But it wasn't the shifting of a celestial body through the heavens. Or even the passing of a cloud across the surface. Instead it almost seemed to . . . wobble for a moment. Like an image being projected on an unsteady surface. Before she could do more than stare in open confusion the 'sun' shifted once more. The deafening sounds that'd driven her from the manor seemed to grow even louder and she flinched at their discordant fury. It soon shifted a third time and when it did all the color drained from her face as a cold dread trickled through her body. Rolling like a great ball suspended in the air what passed for a sun shifted one final time to reveal a milky, misshapen pupil. The great, lidless eye fell upon her a heartbeat later and Estelle could only freeze in horror as it did so, every fiber of her being crying out at once as stared up at the monstrous sight. Her trembling lips slowly formed the words her mind was frantically thinking but her voice didn't travel beyond a strangle whisper.

“No . . . oh God . . . please . . . please no . . .”

That terrified utterance had barely left her mouth before she was backing away from from whatever it was peering down at her. Entirely without thinking she took shaky step after shaky step backwards as a deep, unfathomable dread consumed her. The eye stared unblinking and inscrutable as she retreated, neither moving nor reacting in any way save to watch her with unending focus. It wasn't until the twisted, leafless boughs of a tree obscured her for a  moment that the unfathomable entity moved in any way. With a great, earth shaking rumble the eye suddenly grew in size and a revolting silhouette formed in the murky shadows around it. Hideous in form and horrifying in movement the mass of writhing, nonsensical flesh surrounding the eye was only barely glimpsed in the dark and still it made Estelle cry out in fear. Stopping dead in her tracks once more she tried to cover her face as the eye loomed ever larger in the sky. As the the monstrosity it belonged to leaned down with unknowable intent. But her arms simply wouldn't move no matter how much she tried to shift them. In the face of such a gargantuan thing she was all but paralyzed. Even the discordant howling of a thousand errant flutes played at once couldn't seem to penetrate the horror clouding her thoughts. But not even that all consuming horror could keep her rooted in place forever. As the undefinable grotesqueness looming above her drifted ever closer the most animalistic parts of her mind surged to life. Her limbs jerked and her body jumped as she hurled herself away from the entity. Away from the eye and back down the path towards the manor. Without a single thought in her head she ran and ran and ran until her legs gave out and she crashed to the ground. Yet even that wasn't enough to stop her. Crawling and whimpering in equal measure she scrambled up the steps and into the profoundly unfamiliar foyer, slamming the door behind her and gasping for air as she leaned back against it.

“This is a dream!” She cried, shutting her eyes and trying desperately to wake up, “This is a nightmare . . . this is a nightmare . . . that's all it is! That's all it is!”

“Of course it is . . .” A soft voice answered back, “What else could it be?”