Cherrywood Manor: Part One (special preview)

For weeks there had been renovations going on at Cherrywood, a stately Victorian manor that had been the crown jewel of it’s suburb. Locals had tried to get the renovations to be stopped, citing the house was a historical landmark, and whining about property values. The new owner of the house Lydia Southard-Cherrywood, widow to the previous owner, was hearing none of it. It was her home and she was going to do as she pleased with it.

Even before then rumors had been circulating about Lydia. She had been much younger than her husband, her husband died awfully suddenly, and well, stories write themselves from both points. She rarely went out of the house these days, preferring to avoid her neighbors and locals as much as possible.

When the hubbub with the renovations started, the crew Lydia had hired just stopped coming all together. She hired another, but they only lasted a few days as well before they never returned. After a while, she gathered up what remained outside and left it alone for a while. But Lydia wanted her renovations done, and she wouldn’t let the neighborhood watch hinder her a second longer. So she called an old friend who helped her set up a way for her renovations to commence. Her friend contacted another friend who owned a fledgling carpentry business. They would send four of their men who would stay in Cherrywood while they worked, hopefully throwing off the scent to the locals who wished to keep Lydia from enjoying her widowhood.

“I do hope these fellows know what they are doing,” Lydia lamented over the phone to her friend. “Your connections usually hinge on the iffy side.”

Her friends laughed. “Don’t worry, they know what they're doing. The company is just new is all. Have some faith in me.”

“I do, I do.” Lydia smiled as she saw two trucks pull up outside. “I think they are here. I’ll contact you later, Eden.” She hung up the phone and approached the front door. Peering from the window she saw four men gather just below the stone stairs. Two were fairly tall, although one was leaner than the other. There was a slightly shorter one than them, and then the fourth’s height changed depending on who they were talking to. Lydia stepped outside onto the porch, looking down on the group as they gathered their things.

From the corner of her eye, Lydia spotted a pair of walkers, although it looked like they had rushed from their homes to come and rubberneck.  Lydia scoffed and stepped down from the porch and to the first landing before the stone stairs.

“So glad you made it safe,” she started her production. “Mother said you had left very early.”

One of the tall men, an orc by the looks of him, crooked his eyebrow up at Lydia. “Yes, she was right.” He was playing along, so Eden had explained to them what the deal was.

Lydia smiled at the men, seeing now there was an orc, an incubus, a naga, and with the fourth fellow she wasn’t sure. “Hurry inside, it’s supposed to storm today.” She turned her head, seeing the two walkers approaching. She gave them the evil eye before leading the men inside.

“It’s so nice to have family around,” she continued with the play. “Especially after Edgar passed away so suddenly. I’m still unsure what to do with myself.”

The incubus approached her, placing his elegant hands upon her shoulder. “That’s why we’ve come. We knew you’d need us around.”

The short one that Lydia couldn’t determine scowled. “What?”

Once inside the house, Lydia shut the curtains as the walkers had come to the slowest trot. She huffed, turning to the men who were watching her curiously.

“What do you mean family?” The short one scoffed.

“It’s an act, because we’re doing this secretly,” the incubus chuckled.

The short one cut his eyes at Lydia and she remarked at their golden hue and sharp edge. She smirked and shook her head. “I fully suspect they’re already talking. Seeing four strange men enter my house would be enough to set their tongues wagging.” She then sighed. “Anyways, I have rooms set up for you if you want to get comfortable.”

“Perhaps we should introduce ourselves as well,” the incubus chuckled. His body was pale gray in color, fading to black at the ends of his extremities. He was quite tall and lean in build, with long black hair that was tied back into a messy bun. “I’m Asher,” he cooed with a seductive tone. “This fellow here is Knox, he’s technically the boss.” He said, pointing to the orc.

Knox nodded, averting his eyes and gazing around the foyer. He was the tallest for the four, well built with a barrel chest and belly. His arms looked thicker than Lydia’s thighs, a feat she thought. He had long hair with an undercut which he kept in a french braid.