The House at the Center of the Universe
Authors note: This is a fantasy piece I have had rattling around my head for a while. I am rather impatient and while I would normally write something like this in its entirety before putting it anywhere, given its eventual nature I want more immediate feedback. It probably won't reside on anywhere past Nifty, but I would like the chance to edit it later and make it more refined, and if I like it well enough, I might even put it elsewhere. Anyways, it starts off as a slow burn with heavy mystery / suspense elements, but it will transition into near constant erotica later (and not that far off), with some plot driving it forward. I plan for it to be about as long as a decent sized fantasy novel and will try and put out a new chapter once a week or so. A word of warning, it will have heavy authoritarian elements and several other kinks that I enjoy reading, writing, and fantasizing about, so it might not be for everyone. As always, donate to Nifty if you can.
Chapter One
It had to be the right house. It was an imposing Victorian manor with a crumbling edifice and vibrant ivy climbing its walls. There appeared to be a number of gables, balconies, and even a couple of towers decorating the structure in a haphazard manner, as if a child had put it together with whatever blocks and pieces they had at hand. To Michael, there was no discernable plan or patter to the mansion at all, no matter how he struggled to think it over. The only conclusion he could come up with was there was once a smaller, central structure, and over the years numerous additions and renovations had been undertaken to create this behemoth. Just thinking about having to navigate the inside of it had him both thrumming with excitement, and his head pounding with a headache over the logistics.
The longer he stood looking at the house, the more unsure he was in the right place; his typical feelings of anxiety and rationality sieging the confidence of his decisions. Logic kept telling him that he was insane and approaching some strangers home, but his gut told him that he was at the right place. It was because of a journey that defied all reason, bringing him to a house that defied all reason, that he was certain he had to press forward.
It started mere hours previously, not even a full day ago, when a letter arrived at his apartment addressed to him. Claiming to be sent from a lawyer for a distant relative that had recently passed, it detailed the particulars of the will, including his inheritance of the entirety of the estate as he was the closest living relative. It had explicit instructions that he had to arrive at the house in the next three days or forfeit his claim to the estate, and then it gave the vaguest directions he had ever read. Most of them were similar to how you would give directions in a rural setting where there were few street names and fewer landmarks, like "turn left at the statue of the child," and "go west until you pass a third farm." Mike couldn't decide if it was a scam or a prank, especially since he had six older brothers and sisters, and several cousins on both sides of his family. Feeling bored, since it was his day off, he decided he would just go ahead and try to find the place. The worst that could happen was that it was a prank, the best is that he ends up with a new house. The other option, which he was inclined to believe if the house did exist, was that someone was lazy and just found the closest person with the name of who the house was supposed to go to, as his full name of Michael Smith was somewhat common.
Hours later, after following strange directions that oddly made sense—always finding the next landmark and heading in a logical direction—Mike found himself turning into an urban neighborhood filled with homes for the well-off. All of them were on larger pieces of land, with generously sized houses set back away from the road, and trees providing nice, comfortable shade over almost every spot. Finally, the last instruction pointed him in the direction of the largest property around, the only which had a stone wall surrounding it, with a wrought-iron gate guarding a driveway which had seen better days. There was no bell or way of letting someone inside know that he was there, as far as he could tell after spending several minutes searching the gate and the nearby walls, but there was no lock or latch preventing him from opening the gate. So, praying that he wouldn't get arrested for trespassing, he pushed open the gate and drove onto the slightly wooded property.
Rather quickly, he figured something was not right. No matter how large the property had been, he had been driving for too long.
"Where is the stupid house?" He said, muttering to himself. He looked as far ahead as he could on the path, which curved off into the trees. Peering through the trees, he searched for any sign of a structure, but saw nothing, and was starting to toy with the idea of turning around and escaping the creepy property.
Right when he was about to give up though, a break in the trees showed him what he was looking for, the home providing an imposing sight on the final leg of his journey. Parking in front of the mansion, he got out of the car and scratched his head, again puzzled by the size of what he was seeing. There was no sign of the wall in any direction he looked, and while the property had been large, this house looked to take up as much space as the walls had enclosed.
"Maybe I have gone mad. I must be having a fever dream." Giving into the situation, Mike grabbed his things and walked up the stone steps to the front door, which was framed by two large Doric columns. As with the gate, there was no knocker or doorbell to announce his presences, so he just pushed open one side of the door, following it into the well-lit house beyond.
"Hello?" He called out as he walked into an astonishingly normal looking entrance hall. That thought quickly made him shake his head in amazement, for it was normal for a mansion that you would see on TV. He wasn't sure what he had expected when he had entered, perhaps a giant fountain or a large hall, but it gave him some comfort to know that while the outside was perplexing, the inside seemed to follow normal conventions—at least so far.
Waiting a moment to see if someone would respond, Mike continued to try and loudly call for someone. "I'm here about the letter? Something about an inheritance?"
At this, there were suddenly footsteps ringing out from beyond a door to his left. They were quick, and sharp, but it didn't sound like the owner of those shoes was in much of a hurry. The doorknob clicked as it was twisted, and the door creaked as it was pulled open by a handsome man in a form-fitting tuxedo who looked no older than thirty or so. Mike was briefly lost as he got caught in the man's warm gaze, his gentle brown eyes showing pleasure at meeting him.
"Hello Master Smith, we have been expecting you." The man said, coming to a stop several feet away from Mike. "I am Chase, the head butler."
It should have been obvious that a house of this size came with a staff, but Mike was still flummoxed at the fact that there were still servants in this day and age in America. Quickly recovering, he remembered that he was here for a reason and had to set matters straight.
"About that," He said to Chase, his eyes trying to take in every aspect of the room as he figured he wouldn't be seeing much of the house once he explained the situation. "I think there has been a mistake. I would like to talk to the lawyer as soon as possible, I'm pretty sure I am not the person he was looking for."
Chase gave a slight frown as he puzzled over what Mike said, making him marvel at the fact that he still looked handsome even without a smile, which only seconds ago Mike would have called his best trait.
"I am not well-informed on these matters," Chase scratched his chin. "But if you insist there has been some kind of mistake, I must take you to see Sir Leon right away."
"Sir Leon?"
"He is the man who sent you the letter." Ushering Mike through a different door than the one he had arrived through, Chase led him through a series of labyrinthine halls, stubbornly silent as they made their way. As they went along, an uneasiness started building itself up in his guts again. While now he was convinced he was in the right house, he was also convinced that something was very, very wrong. Not a single door they had passed along the way had been open, and there was nothing to suggest anyone else was in the house outside of the fact that every hall was impeccably clean. There wasn't a single speck of dust or any strand of cobweb to be seen. But there was also not a single other footstep, or creak of floorboards outside of their own, and no other servants occupied the halls they travelled.
After what seemed like forever, they came to a door which resembled almost every other door they had passed, nothing to set it apart from the rest. Chase obviously knew where he was going though, because he knocked on it without hesitation.
"Come in," A strong voice rang out from inside.
Opening the door, Chase gestured for Mike to enter, before closing it behind him leaving Mike alone in the room save for a man in a stuffed chair. The walls were lined with shelves laden with books, stretching all the way up to the ceiling and covering every surface, except for a window and a fireplace set into two of the walls. Fear came over Mike, a dread like no other filling his heart with lead as he realized the window, which was letting in warm sunlight, was on a wall which should have bordered another room.
"This is impossible," his vision started wavering.
The man leapt from his chair, catching him as he fell. Mike snapped back into focus as a strong pungent odor pierced his nose, the man waving smelling salts in his face.
"Oh, I assure you, everything is possible here." The man said as he helped Mike back to his feet, a smug smile plastered on his face. "And I know what you think, but you are indeed the person I was looking for."
The man, who Mike took to be Sir Leon, headed for a desk which was covered in a couple of papers. "But you were also right in that the letter is somewhat of a scam."
"What?" Mike asked perplexed. "Why would you tell me it was a scam if you are trying to scam me?"
"It's not exactly a scan," Leon said in an exaggerated manner as he had to explain it to him. "It's just that it was not really close to the truth."
"And the truth is?"
"The truth is," Leon plopped himself in his chair, holding onto his papers with one hand while the other supported his head, "That the reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated."
"A Mark Twain quote, lovely." There was nothing that annoyed Mike more than some pretentious elitist who dropped historical and literature references as they talked.
Leon laughed at his retort, a sharp sound which was both humorless, and dangerous. It made Mike even more uncomfortable and his eyes started searching for anything he could use as a weapon. While still confused as to what was going on, his current theory was that he was in a haunted mansion.
"But the part about you inheriting my house is very, very true." Leon's voice shifted to a sharper tone, cutting Mike's attention from a letter opener laying across the desk and drawing it back to him, his green eyes cold and freezing Mike's thoughts.
"What?" Mike said again, lamely. Inside he cursed himself at barely even managing to utter that one word.
"I decided I was done playing Master." Leon said, twirling the letter opener, which was suddenly in his hands, the one on the desk five feet away having vanished.
"But why me?" Mike gulped in fear. He didn't think that was an actual thing until now, but it was an involuntary reflex at the sight of the strange powers Leon seemed to hold.
"You'll eventually understand," The letter opener had disappeared again, this time a book was floating in front of him as his finger idly flicked through the pages. "The house picked you, not me. I can only pick the when, it finds the who."
"I'm not following." Relief came to his body as he felt like he could move again, confidence swelling from some unknown source as he felt safer.
"It doesn't matter. I don't have to explain that." Leon had shut the book and looked at him annoyed. "What does matter is I am ready to give this up, and so you are going to take a test to see if the house was right."
"A test? But if the house picked me, why would I have to take a test?" It was an uncertain thought, but Mike didn't really care for Leon and couldn't bring himself to trust him. It seemed likely that he was telling him some form of a lie.
"Who knows," Leon shrugged though, disinterested. "I don't know why it can't just find someone who can do the job. It just finds people with certain traits instead and tests them."
"How many?" Mike asked as he realized what Leon had implied.
"How many what?" He was toying with him.
"How many have already taken the test," Mike was angry at the cavalier way Leon was treating this situation after throwing his life into disarray. He didn't even know what would happen if he failed, though he had a sinking feeling it was less than pleasant.
"You will be the fifth," The way he smiled reminded Mike of a shark, his teeth clenched and twisting his handsome face into something sinister.
"What happened to the others. What'll happen to me if I fail." He had to know. Even if he couldn't refuse to take it, he had to know the outcome. "I take it I can't refuse it."
"That doesn't concern you yet," Leon answered simply, brushing aside the question. "And yes, you have no choice but to take it."
Mike clenched his fists at his sides, gritted his teeth and nodded, prodding Leon to continue as he acknowledged his acceptance of the test.
"Great!" Leon said, standing up abruptly from the chair, his feet hovering a few feet from the floor. "The test is rather simple. You just have to find four locations in the house and receive four boons from their guardians."
"What?" Mike asked dumbly for a third time.
"Is that the only word you know?" Leon asked with an exaggerated sigh. "Each of the four locations are guarded by a... special servant." He said the last two words after a slight pause, as if choosing the word carefully. "Each of them will offer you a test of some sort of their own design meant to probe whether you are willing and able to handle the responsibilities of this house."
"Which are?"
"You can't find that out unless you pass, sorry."
"It seems like you are trying to set me up to fail." Mike was feeling scared again, with flashes of anger as he spat out those words, his emotions a constant roller coaster.
"It's a test. You can't know the answers." Leon smirked, taking pleasure in the uncertainty that Mike was plagued with.
"Can you at least tell me what I am looking for?" If he didn't even know what he had to find, he was probably going to try and throttle the shorter man.
"Of course." Mike gave out a breath of relief. "The barn, the dungeon, the servant's common room, and the Master's suite."
His head swirled again. He felt repulsed that there was a dungeon in this twisted manor but wasn't all that surprised. What really surprised him was the barn, with the way this mansion was working, he wasn't sure if he could find a way outside, and if he did, if he could a way back in.
"You have three days to find them all." Leon flipped over an hourglass which had appeared on the desk.
"Do I have a place to rest?" Mike asked, already feeling tired even though his nerves screamed for him to start searching.
"Unfortunately, no." Leon gave that shark-like smile again, chomping out the last word with as much pleasure as he could afford. "For the purposes of the test you are not considered an invited guest. The house won't try and remove you and servants won't stop you, but you don't get help in any form outside of what you earn."
"No food, water, or even a bathroom?"
"Take a shit outside and eat it for all I care," Leon shrugged.
Mike was certain he was going to strangle him and break his neck when this was over.
"And when I pass the test, the house is mine?"
At this question, Leon gave off the smuggest smile yet before telling him something that shocked Mike to his core. "You don't just win the house. If you pass the test, you become a God."