Robert Caldwin used his shoulder to barge open the tall, wrought iron gate, ignoring the ominous rolling fog that covered much of the courtyard of the manor, setting his eyes on the Victorian style door perched between a couple of stone golems. In all the years that he had worked in real estate, his latest client earned her place as one of his strangest. Everything about the property itself practically screamed eldritch nightmare, from the twisted expressions on the faces of the gargoyles lining the ramshackle roof, to the thorn covered vines that had crept their way along the outer walls.
He leapt onto the stone pathway, banging his suitcase against his leg in the process, growing increasingly wary as he ascended the incline leading to the manor itself, sure that he had spotted a shadow of movement amongst the fog. His office had deliberately kept the details of the client vague after they handed her case over to him, only providing him with what he quickly realised were some strategically complimentary pictures of the century old manor, intended to make the building and its surroundings seem less bone chilling than it did in person.
As for its owner, Robert knew even less. From the information he had been given, he knew that she was a television personality of sorts, a hostess of horror and slasher movies. Robert wasn't interested in the horror genre in the least, and neither did he intend on becoming familiar with them over the course of the sale period of her property.
Reaching the black painted door, Robert readied himself for whatever he was about to expose himself to, hoping that his professionalism would see him through. He grabbed the brass knocker and gave it a firm strike, wincing as the sound echoed out, loud enough that it managed to set off his car alarm. He hastily reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and remotely deactivated the alarm, oblivious to the door as it groaned open.
"May I help you?" a deep, refined voice from behind him asked.
Robert cleared his throat and turned, readying his hand to shake the one belonging to the source of the voice. "Yes, I have an appointment with the owner of the propert..."
Richard's voice immediately fell silent, his body wilted as he was met with the sight of the hulking figure that occupied much of the space of the already oversized door frame. Although it wore what Richard recognised as a reasonably expensive black wool suit and a pair of black oxfords that had been shined thoroughly until they gleamed, it was the scaled hands and features that resembled that of an aquatic creature that almost sent the real estate agent running back to his car. Richard wasn't sure how long he had been frozen in place, but the clicking of a pair of fingers shook him out of his near catatonic state.
"Sir? Sir? Am I to assume that you are the one that the agency sent to assist in executing the sale of the manor?" the creature asked, seemingly unaware of the sheer fright Richard felt.
"Ex-execute?" Richard stammered. "You, uh, what are..."
"Another easily spooked civilian," the creature uttered, rolling its entirely black eyes as it let out a sigh that caused its gills to bristle, "come along, before the hounds pick up your scent. You're early, the mistress is still getting ready in her bed chambers."
"Right, I'll follow you," Richard gasped out, watching the creature walking through the foyer, not bothering to look back.
Richard had seen some peculiar sights in his few years working in real estate, from homes that had somehow managed to disappear overnight, to to properties made up entirely of used newspapers and recycled magazines. But nothing came close to seeing what appeared to be a creature pulled right from the silver screen in the flesh, dressed in a suit that Robert was sure cost more than his own. As much as his scepticism tried to kick in, he knew that there was no indication of any fakery, its skin breathed in a way that cheap latex could never.
Robert could count the number of steps between the doorstep to the driver side door of his car in his head, something that only added to his desire to cut and run before discovering what else was hidden inside the old manor. But his sense of reason was easily overridden by his thoughts of percentages and potential commission, as fear inducing as the property in its current state appeared, Robert couldn't deny that it was seated in a prime location, that the size of the land up for grabs would definitely appeal to a shrewd minded developer. With a roll of his shoulders, Robert picked up his suitcase and took a step inside, keeping a gap of a few feet between himself and the creature.
"So, uhh, what are you exactly?" Robert winced, realising just how blunt his question had been.
"Isn't it obvious? I'm the butler, sir," the creature replied plainly.
"No, what I meant was... never mind," Robert amended, not wanting to push his luck. He took the chance to look around the interior of the manor, something that had been conveniently left out of the limited number of pictures of the property he had been given. He wasn't surprised by what he found, the halls were lined by lit torches and portraits that crept into the realm of the fantastical, the walls were covered into a patterned wallpaper that only someone with a strange sense of humour would find enjoyment in looking at on a daily basis. It only made him further question what sort of kook he would be forced to negotiate with.
They reached an expansive foyer, decorated to fit the Victorian theme that the exterior had displayed in full. A single, wide staircase extended up to the upper floor, with a deep red carpet that draped over the centre section of the individual stairs. From the tall ceiling above, a large crystal chandelier moved gently from side to side, each transparent droplet refracted the light emitting from the flickering flames.
Glancing down at his watch, Robert felt himself growing a little impatient. "Your mistress is taking her time, isn't she?"
The creature folded its thick arms behind its back, standing beside the banister in preparation for the arrival of the woman in question. "She prefers the term 'fashionably late,' you won't see her until she has made herself up to perfection. Ah, and I think you're in luck."
Robert turned his head up at the sound of a door closing with a thud, followed by the clicking of a pair of heels against the exposed wood floors in the hallway above. Sure enough, a distinctly feminine figure crossed the length of hall, until she came to a stop at the top stop, placing her hands on her hips as Robert finally caught a full glimpse of his client.
Far from the crone he had expected based on the appearance of the manor, the woman he found oozed glamour. Her mass of silky black hair had been made up into a retro style beehive. A plain black gown travelled from her shoulders down to the surface of the carpet, with a plunge that threatened to cause her large breasts to burst out at any moment, and a slit so high that Robert could see the full length of her defined leg. A pair of dark stockings led down to a pair of black, patent stilettos.
The woman made her descent, keeping her feet at an angle as she navigated the narrow steps, until she graciously accepted the help of her butler for the final few steps. Smiling broadly, she walked over to Robert, pulling him unexpectedly into a hug, surprising him with her strength considering her smaller frame.
"You must be Mr Caldwin?" the woman asked with an accent that wouldn't have seemed out of place amongst the valley girls.
"Oh, you can just call me Robert," he replied with a weak laugh, fighting off the temptation to let his gaze wander down to her cleavage.
"Much better, I hate all of of those nonsensical formalities. Now that we're on first name terms, you can call me Elvira," she offered, looking up at him expectantly, gazing back at her butler when she didn't catch a lick of recognition from the agent. "You know, Mistress of the Dark? Goddess of all things macabre? She-bitch of San Andreas? Nothing?"
Robert shrugged apologetically. "I'm not all that knowledgeable when it comes to anything pop culture, I'm more of a graphs and numbers type of guy."
"A pencil pusher, more like," the creature grumbled.
"Hush, Chapman, it's not Robert's fault if he prefers the office cubicle to a bit of horror," Elvira said, shooting Robert a suggestive wink as she sauntered over to one of the walls, lifting a lit torch from its holster. "Let's go for a little tour, my straight laced friend, it'll give you a better idea of what I'm sellin'."
Robert side stepped the creature, still uncomfortable with the way its bulbous black eyes seemed to scrutinise his every little movement. He bandied jogged to catch up to Elvira, unable to tear his eyes from her swaying hips, a distraction that caused him to collide face first with a fairly large spider's web that Elvira had managed to duck beneath. Sputtering in an attempt to tear the webbing from his face, Robert felt a soft tickle against his cheek, brushing the web away.
Opening his eyes, Robert saw Elvira walking away with a jet black feather duster in her hand, clearing the path ahead as she went. "Sorry about that, you know what these web spinners can be like, give 'em an inch and they'll take up the whole place. Oh look, we've reached the kitchen."
"Thanks," he exhaled, following her into the spacious kitchen, still curious as to where she had pulled the duster from. Thankfully, the kitchen appeared to be at least somewhat normal, complete with fixtures and fittings that resembled what he would have seen in one of his ordinary property listings. Robert opened his briefcase and whipped out his camera, snapping off a few shots of the cupboards and marble top island.
"Would you care for a snack, Robert?" Elvira asked, pointing a black painted nail towards what he assumed was a storage pantry. "A drink, perhaps?"
"No thank you, I had something to eat before I came," he lied, having no intention of finding out what exactly was hidden behind it. He strolled up to the small kitchen island, noting the little details he could add to the manor's portfolio.
Yelping in fright, Robert just kept a grip of his camera as the once innocuous white pantry door was barged open by a thick, fluid coated, deep pink tentacle. The leaking tip appeared to search the kitchen, before it focused directly on Elvira. It launched itself towards her, wrapping its way around her thigh, rubbing its glistening tip against the base of her exposed black satin panties.
