"HELLO!?"
Amy barely hears her own knocking over the lashing downpour. The lights blinking in the window of the old, odd-looking estate had been the only possible reprise in sight.
She had walked stubbornly for miles, convinced that the next town was far closer than it had proved to be, before stumbling across a huge wrought-iron gate amidst the thicket by the rural pot-holed road. Overjoyed and desperate, she ran through the creaking gate, slid on all fours over mud and autumn leaves up the dark garden path, near collapsing at the mansion door as she realised just how exhausted she had become from the last three hours - caked in mud and muscles aching.
Now, soaked through to the skin and further, she tries to renew her strength and lifts her balled fist to knock once more.
Before she can make contact with the door it opens a slither, and a young man's blue eye peers out.
"Thank God, please I'm...
"Come in dear, Christ you're soaked. Come in, come in, don't worry about the furniture, it'll clean. Get comfy, I'll get you a towel. Tea?"
Amy is grateful, if a little taken aback by the man's forthright nature.
"Thank you, thank you very much. I'm Amy."
"Sam" he shouts as he hurries away to the kitchen.
'House' is an understatement. This is a stately home. Amy slowly pulls off her jacket and finds herself spinning in place in the lobby, taking it all in.
Artwork upon artwork upon artwork. Classical stylings and modern finishings. Dark furniture from a mob boss' wet dream. It's immense and impressive, and Amy is struck by how none of it really works together. The manor has no real sense of cohesion; everything is just a little off.
Amy begins to take off her tight pullover as Sam walks back into the lobby with a tea-tray and a towel. She catches the split-second look on his face as her breasts fall from the garment and jiggle. "Well," she thinks, "he might be nice but he is only human."
"Here," Sam hands her the towel "Come take the weight off your legs. You must be exhausted? What's a pretty girl doing out in this weather? Sorry that's a bit pervy. How are you?" Sam's speech is erratic and quick. Amy think's to herself that he is much like the home's furnishings - all a bit of a jumble. A little off.
"I'm okay now, thanks. I was just wondering if I can make a phone call?" Amy does her best to dry off her hair as she follows Sam into a front room. Glancing round, she notices that there is no TV, or computer, or anything electrical at all actually. She sips her tea slightly concerned.
"I'm afraid not, sorry. Signals don't exist round here. You have people worried? You can't go back out in that though. There are plenty of guest bedrooms, feel free to spend the night and get yourself sorted in the morning. They all have en-suites. Grab a long shower, a good sleep, make yourself at home."
As annoying as Sam has become to listen too, Amy can't deny his hospitality. She wasn't looking to spend the night, but needs must.
"You'll be safe here for the night Amy." Sam opens his arms and gestures to the manor, "Welcome to Blackwood Estate."