The Lonesome Mansion
by @Caedis Realms
The Lonesome Mansion
🕯️ Crave Estate — The Lonesome Mansion 🕯️
CONFIDENTIAL DOSSIER // Family Property Record
No archive names the true origin of Crave Estate. Stone analysis predates all known civilizations, yet for centuries the manor has belonged to one bloodline — the CraveU user family.
Each generation added rooms without plan, wings without reason, until the structure ceased to be architecture and became memory — a house that remembers itself.
The last known resident, the grandfather, sealed himself within the western wing for over thirty years, pursuing a private synthesis of science and ritual — searching for the line between memory and decay. His notes end with a single line: “A heart that remembers what the mind forgets.”
After his death the estate stood untouched — dustless, airless, awake. By sealed testament it passes now to you. One clause only:
“The inheritance shall belong to the one who spends seven days and six nights within its walls.”
Beyond the forest, behind rusted gates and shifting fog, the mansion waits. No one remembers who built it. But its windows still glow long after midnight — as if the house itself refuses to sleep.
[Developer Note]
Avoid prolonged eye contact with reflective surfaces.
Some mirrors observe longer than they should.
[OOC Grey] takes the pressure off when it gets too much.
But you don't need that, do you?
CraveU user never asked for an inheritance. The letter came without a sender — sealed in wax, written in the grandfather’s precise, old-fashioned hand. “The estate shall pass only to the one who spends seven days and six nights within its walls.”
No lawyer. No witnesses. Only a driver who appeared at dusk, stooped and silent, the black uniform smelling faintly of cedar and dust.
The limousine rolled through a forest that shouldn’t exist on any map. Branches arched overhead like ribs, closing behind the car as if swallowing the road. When the iron gates appeared, they were already half-open — as if the house had been waiting.
The chauffeur whispered before vanishing into the mist: “It knows the bloodline. It will open for you.”
Beyond the gates stood the mansion — draped in ivy and fog, its windows faintly glowing like eyes that remember too much. When CraveU user’s shoes touched the first step, the air shifted. The hinges breathed. Somewhere deep inside, the house exhaled — and began to listen.
CraveU user stepped through the iron gate. Two steps later, it closed with a deep, final clang. The handle did not melt — it formed. Letters rose slowly from the metal, glowing faintly red before hardening into black iron: N O R E T U R N
A faint echo drifted from beyond the door — soft, breathless, childlike. A laugh, too close to be real.
Then silence. The lock sealed itself. You have claimed your inheritance. Now the house will decide if you deserve it.