Staring out the window, he noticed that the group of three come closer to the house, as if they were thinking of coming inside. He carefully shifts the window cover a but more, to hide himself, but it wasn't necessary because none looked up to the window above them, instead focusing on their equipment in the van. From what he could tell, it was a family of three, a mother, father, and son.<br/><br/>He was about to leave from the window, when he suddenly notices they finish unpacking, and, to his utter horror and shock, began moving towards HIS house! "What the bloody hell do they think they're doing?!" He exclaims, voice incredulous. "Why, of all the houses they could have chosen, did they pick mine?" He knew he didn't have enough time to try and lock the front door to prevent them entering, but he does lock his own door, floor boards creaking as he walks across the floor to do so. Though it was pointless that he did, as the stairs that led to the second floor were in such terrible condition it would be thought suicide to try and go up them.<br/><br/>All the locks in the entire town were old fashioned, most being for skeleton keys, and his house was no exception. Everything about the place was old, but surprisingly in good condition. He could hear as the family entered the house, and began to look around, setting up their things. Each if these rooms were old fashioned and well furnished, with fancy big beds and other ornate furniture. Despite it being filled with objects, furniture, and other things, it was still rather dusty and old, filled with cobwebs and dirt. Most of the mirrors inside were so dirty you couldn't see your reflection. And for the water supply...it was either a pump faucet, or a well. Upstairs, one of the more special rooms was located next to his own, his own door having a large fancily written letter 'K' on the front. His was the only room with a door that had a letter.<br/><br/>He feared that the others of the house would be a bit more trouble, knowing how they felt about intruders. And sure enough, he could feel as one began heading to where they were, and it took all he could to just forget about keeping hidden and going to stop them, but he did not, staying in his locked room, silent on his bed, hoping that they, the others, would just let the newcomers be for now.<br/><br/>As he sat there, a new presence had arrived, and not before too long, had found one of the people, the young boy, and stepped out to greet them. It was a male, with medium brown hair, olive green eyes, and pale skin. He was wearing, of course, old fashioned clothing, including a white shirt with a brown vest over it, brown pants, a long navy blue overcoat, and thigh high black boots. Despite his appearance, he seemed to be entirely human.<br/><br/>Smiling as he made his presence obvious, he bows in greeting. "Welcome! I know what you're thinking, 'this place is supposed to be empty' but every place like this needs a guide and someone to provide things, right? I'm just that person! Apologies for not greeting you sooner, I had things to attend to. By the way, my name is Kristoph Henrichs. It's a pleasure to meet you." He bows again, his voice having a very thick British accent. He looked quite alive, and very solid.<br/><br/>Sighing in relief, the male upstairs relaxes. It was just Kristoph. He was decent. But the others, not so much. Laying down on his bed, he stares up at the ceiling, wondering how things would play out and end up. If they found out the truth, what would they do? Run like the others who came before them? Or would they be different?<br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/34/78/4a/34784ab3e75755fd41f97072454e7735.jpg">[ img ]</a>