What I am going to relate to you may seem like nothing more than a fanciful creation one would tell to lend a bit of intrigue to an otherwise normal home. Or perhaps it’s an eerie narrative that contributes to the shivers of a cold night. But let me assure you, this house is anything but normal.
When I first came into the employ of the house, it looked very different than it does today. Yet its unmistakable pull is the same: perversion, kink, sexual deviance, that which we seek but rarely speak about openly. Its tentacles reach out to us, tempting our curiosity, offering to satiate our hunger for carnal pleasures and more importantly…to belong somewhere.
Call me irrational. Consider my ramblings the deranged thoughts of a madman. But I have seen its heart. It appeared then as a pulsating gem, emitting a deep-violet glow that darkened everything its radiance touched. It resided in a room with no doors, which could only be entered by being summoned.
When I became the caretaker, there existed only one other staff member. A man, or at least he appeared to be such. He wore a full-body black leather suit and a hood with a zipper covering his mouth. He introduced himself to me only as “the gimp”. He moved about the estate with unnatural agility, even appearing as if he was in multiple places at once. I thought perhaps he could tell me more about the secrets of the house, but he insisted that he was only a servant, the same as me. Of course, that turned out to be very untrue, I just didn’t know it at the time.
So the house did its thing: draw in those attracted like moths to its regal glow. Yes, the activities that transpired here were titillating, but like a dark carnival, the hidden attractions were more sinister. Unspeakable things occurred in the shadowy recesses of the keep: intense and merciless scenes of degradation and humiliation. There were events that would give cause to recoil for even the most wicked of guests.
There are too many stories from that time to relate to you here in a succinct manner: the house chose a hostess for its heart, various factions and rivalries formed between residents, there was pain, even death, incidents beyond what anyone could have imagined. The influence of the house spiraled out of control. I admit, I too got caught up in its heady power.
In retrospect, I believe its burning to the ground was inevitable. I fled those flames and never looked back. Putting those experiences behind me would undoubtedly require a great deal of effort and time. But the gimp withheld an important fact: Once you work for the house, you become part of it. It will bring you back.
I can’t explain why I returned to its site. I think I just wanted to look at the remains of what once was, to gaze upon the charred timbers and blackened stones of a cursed place that was better off forgotten. I did not expect to find it had healed from its fatal tragedy however. Yet like the legendary phoenix, there it was. It looked different: brighter this time. The dark purple haze once surrounding it had been replaced by a light-blue shimmering aura. Yet that familiar pull was still there. Sexual pleasures and enticements once again beckoned me. As before, I could not turn away. I am its servant: then, now and always. The doors opened before me as I approached. “I have returned dear House, and I’m prepared to do your bidding,” flowed effortlessly from my lips.
It does feel different this time. Except for the chilling draft coming up from the foundation, I find the latest version of the house to be delightful, warm and inviting. What are its plans now? It doesn’t tell me. But I trust it will reward me for my tireless service to its calling.