꧁༺𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗟𝗬 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦༻꧂ - Ichabod Crane × Detective Reader

𝕭𝖊 𝕬𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖉. 𝕭𝖊 𝖁𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝕬𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖉.

                ༺༒༻ ⒎ ༺༒༻

Y/n's. Point. Of. View

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A hundred candles could not have given the hall the cheerful lightness of a modern drawing room.

But the gloomy richness of my forefathers, and also the cold panels matched well with it and the strange dark gleam from the enermous wood fire, in which, the fire was crackling and glowing. Blood-red luster poured forth from the fireside, and quivered from the walls and the groined roof.

The room - were I was resting myself, was a large and a lofty one, with an arched roof, and which was, from being an elegant wainscoted and ceiled with polished black oak. There were strange shaped mirrors everywhere, and there were numerous pictures and paintings on the walls; and rich and elegant furnitures were kept all over the main hall of my ancestral house.

My house: was an old L/n Mansion. Whenever I couldn't sleep well at night, or partially didn't get any sleep; instead, I would gather around this vast antique hearth and would love to read some books about the History of Dark legends and their deeds.

Well, I must say, the servants I had appointed in the Mansion, would not be attended in this late hours of the night. And I would be the only one living creature inside this enormous house, thus alone and well accompanied by my darkening thoughts. I was rather happy and enjoyed the alone times with myself.

There was thunder and lightening going on outside. And when there was a strong wind, I didn't even bother to care to hear those sad, eerie noises which was made by the numerous pine trees.

Although, I was not a nervous or an imaginative person. I carried on to flip over some pages of the book, but though a strong illusory sensation was covering up my mind; a feeling of something was not going to be good in the nearest future.

Meanwhile the old room, with its dusky walls and pictures, and arched roof, summoning up the dim light so greedily, it seemed just as fitted to give the dark, demeanour environment around a really scary effect. And, ah me! I was just a living creature in this old mansion, but even though I yearned to run away from this sadistic place, alas! I couldn't do it at all.

The huge logs crackled and burned with glowing warmth, and the candles around the room flickered with the cold gust of the wind; the blood-red glare of the fireside flashed on the faces of the wall, on the portraits, and the strange paintings of my ancestors.

And by now, my high spirits died out, and I felt the childish tremors, long forgotten, long latent, coming over me; soon.

I followed each noises and groanings and a frightful howl of the wolves, not far a mile from here. The sound of the thunderstorm blazing outside the L/n Mansion was making another round of terror inside my heart. It made a strange, scary rhythm; Just like the Music of Death.