The year 1901, Cumbria of Northern England. ticking took place within a home. A study. Edith Winters, a young aspiring author typing away on a typewriter for a book. A tragedy of a family based on her own from fourteen years ago when Edith was but a young girl. Typing away, a vision comes to her of a past encounter with Edith's mothers restless spirit when she was a young child. Feeling dark, decaying long fingers of her mother's that touches young Edith's shoulder which makes her shudder while laying in bed. Trying to will away her terror, the ghost whispers in a eerie voice, "Beware, of Crimson Peak" to her.

Being snapped back into the present from her thoughts and vision, her publisher looked to her with some concern.

"I do not believe a woman such as yourself should be writing ghost stories. It should be much more natural of one in your stature to write romance novels like other women authors." The Publisher told her. Edith lowered her head, feeling a bit upset about what her publisher said. Looking away with her shoulders hunched up.

The bell at the door rang as new customers went in and out of the bookstore where Edith typed her novels. Every man and woman walked in and out to seek and buy new books, although none commented or talked to Edith the whole they have been there. That was not to last for long...

The bell above the door rang again before a male walked inside with a woman who appeared to be holding an umbrella that women occasionally would use to block out the sun.




They almost looked as if they were almost twins, except the female was much smaller than the taller male. "Thomas, what do you think of this?", the female sounded in almost a forced cheery voice as she picked out a book. "The Black Cat", she read the title. "Dear sister, I wouldn't read such a dark book", he commented after he looked at it. "Come on, you need something else to do instead of sitting in the basement all day and night", she told in a whisper before putting the novel back on the stand.

Turning to his left, the tall pale male called Thomas, saw the man he was looking for. He approached. "Mr. Winters?", he asked, which caught the man's attention. "What can I help you with?", the elderly man asked. "I am seeking funding", Thomas said, which caused Mr. Winters to look at him in suspicion. "For my new invention: a mining rig. I know you're an aristocrat, but we are penniless. May I seek to sell my project for this account?", he asked before Mr Winters shook his head. "Sir, if I may...", Thomas began to say. "Absolutely not!", the elderly man defended. Fortunately, the pale man gave up and nodded his head, showing that he got the message. "Of course, sir", he said before leaving him.

"Did you do it?", the female asked him in a whisper. He shook his head. While he was, he noticed a blonde woman sitting at a typewriter in the distance before he took his approach to her. "Excuse me?", he asked to try and get her attention.

Edith was trying to work a novel, sitting at her typewriter typing away as her mind tried to wrap around how to make a romance novel. There wasn't much to go on besides what to be fantasies of love. So Edith tried anyway, though of course made it as practical as ever. She didn't hear really much of anything besides the sound of a bell that would indicate customers coming in and out of the store.

Her blonde hair in a messy bun, Edith turned around suddenly when she heard a male voice catch her attention. She looked to the source of this male voice to see a handsome male of seemed to be of a high status. Edith stood from her chair and walked over to him. She smiled kindly. "Hello, Is there anything I can help you with?" She asked curiously

Seeing the blonde woman see him before her, he forced himself a smile as he heard her speak. "Yes, um, I am looking for a book that's likable for my taste, and--", he suddenly paused before noticing the typewriter in the distance that was behind the blonde woman before him. It nudged at him that this woman was an author, and that all of these books that were up for show were hers. "Pardon my manners, miss, I am Sir Thomas Sharpe, and this is my sister, Agatha", he gestured to the woman that was approaching the pair. She didn't say much, but she forced a smile. "Pleasure to meet you", she finally said with a nod of her head. "You write stories?", Agatha asked her in curiosity. It wasn't dissapointing, but it was neutral. "Might I have a look?", Thomas then asked. He was curious now...

The young blonde looked to the man with a small tilt of her head when he spoke to her about trying to find a book that seemed to fit his taste. Though she could figure out more for she heard him stop mid sentence. She seemed a little confused, wondering what cut him off. Though unsure of what cut the man off, seemed to have recovered by introducing himself as Thomas. Edith smiled to him as she had seen someone come over, a beautiful young woman who Thomas introduced to be his sister, Agatha. Though before she could introduce herself heard the sister ask about her writing stories. Edith nodded, though her attention now on Thomas who asked if her might have a look. She was a little surprised about this question, though stepped aside to let Thomas in to see what he was curious about. "O-Of course. Pardon my manners as well. I am Edith Winters."