[center][h1][b][color=darkgreen]Chapter 1: An Open Invitation[/color][/b][/h1]
[img]https://orig00.deviantart.net/ae45/f/2008/311/4/9/phantom_manor_1_by_smalltownhero.jpg[/img]
[i]1313 Faust Dr.
Boston, Massachusetts
Friday, 4/13/2018
11:30 PM[/i][/center]

Boston was not always the friendliest of places, especially so late at night. The area around 1313 Faust Dr., however, seemed to be positively quaint. A quiet area of the city, technically outside the city limits in what little countryside one could find in the state of Massachusetts, the property sat on what had to be about ten acres of land. The gate leading to the driveway had been curiously left open, and so anybody had freedom to simply walk up the two hundred foot drive and approach the large estate house. By the looks of it the dwelling had been built not long after the original American colonies were founded, but it had since been renovated many times with modern systems. Among these included a state of the art security system, but that was down for the evening. Down, yes, for the same reason the front gate had been left wide open. Because the owner of the estate had been expecting visitors.

One by one they arrived, six special individuals who had been given their summons however it would reach them. A few received perfectly ordinary station letters in the mail. One had kept to himself, secreted away from public perception, only to find his invitation placed in his drink. Another received a vision in the newspaper, fleeting but [i]burned[/i] into her mind. The youngest was hand delivered her invitation by forces ethereal. The last had a vision whilst expanding their mind through the art of poetry. Though the methods varied as much as the individuals themselves did, there were ultimately commonalities. Each one had an interest in events and creatures that most assumed didn't even exist. Each one possessed knowledge of eldritch lore, magics they could call upon at a whim. And of course, each one wound up on the same doorstep, ringing the same doorbell, and was greeted by the same butler.

[url=https://orig00.deviantart.net/c9bf/f/2012/357/c/f/the_rest_time_by_nataliaciobanu-d5oxquj.jpg]A younger man[/url] dressed in a nice suit, with tan white skin, short curled black hair, and the serious look of someone who had died. Each of the six he greeted, and escorted to the parlor room. Two couches and two chairs surrounded a large oak table. The table itself had many faces professionally carved into it, each one giving the appearance of someone in utter anguish and despair. First to arrive was journalist, eager to take on a job and provide stories for her husband. Not long after came the would-be-mother adorned in black. The minutes ticked away and soon arrived the Scottish criminal. Rolling in behind him was the child, unaccompanied by any guardian. Slipping in behind the child was a [url=https://pre00.deviantart.net/ce93/th/pre/i/2014/083/e/d/true_detective_art_by_shwedoff-d7bic0u.jpg]man with many scars[/url] and sour disposition. Second to last was the woman of secrets, studious and unparalleled in her memory. After many minutes of waiting their final guest had arrived: the one tortured of identity, newest to this world of secrets and magic.

One by one they were escorted by the butler. One by one they sat down. One by one they had been offered drinks and refreshments. One by one they had been asked to patiently wait for the arrival of their generous host. And so the host did arrive, but only as the large grandfather clock struck the twelfth chime of midnight. [url=https://pre00.deviantart.net/14d9/th/pre/i/2013/330/6/d/jessamyn_by_dashinvaine-d6vp87t.jpg]She was an elegant woman[/url] of fair white skin and raven black hair, adorned in white. The lady took her seat, the larger of the two chairs, and addressed those in the room.

"Thank you for meeting with me at this dreadful hour. I appreciate your dedication. More invitations went out, many more, but you are all that have arrived. You have my respect for making the time to see me. My name is Lady Eve. Please, be comfortable in my home. You are honored guests." She spoke with an air of authority, but also one of graciousness. The cadence of her voice was smooth, not like silk, but of glass. As though something just beneath was threatening to break at any moment.