Gustav sat motionless, his trembling hands cradling the head of his father, Emperor Lennox Horror Hill. Blood seeped from Lennox's mouth, staining his checkered black and gold cravat and dripping onto the maroon Persian rug. The luminous chandelier above them flickered, and the large, heavy curtains spilt onto an ornate carpet casting shadows across the walls. Clenching his father's shoulders, Gustav's heart raced in a frantic rhythm as he tried to make sense of the twisted reality before him. He watched as his father's chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. The Emperor's once proud gaze was now distant and clouded.

"Father..." Gustav murmured, his voice drifting away as his eyes fixed on his father's weak smile. Suddenly, his mind replayed the moments leading up to this disaster. The poison dart had come from nowhere, swift and silent, striking with deadly precision. Why was he spared? Unanswered questions lingered in his head.

Lennox's lips parted as if to speak, but only a faint rasp escaped. Gustav leaned in, desperate to hear his father's final words.

"Live a prosperous life, Gustav. The past is mine to bury. The future is yours to build..." the Emperor choked, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth. His breath shuddered as he gripped Gustav's arm tightly. His once-sharp eyes met his son's one last time. Slowly, the light in them began to fade. His eyelids fluttered, then drooped, as if too heavy to keep open.

With a final, quiet exhale, they shut completely. His body went still, the last traces of life slipping away...

Emperor Lennox Horror Hill was dead.

*****

Gustav Horror Hill stood alone at the edge of his father's grave. The soft murmur of voices and the shuffle of footsteps around him was a faint background to the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind. The wind tugged at his dark cloak, and the weight of the future pressed down on him. He stood there, still, with his mind adrift, reflecting on his next steps. What could a man like him do with the rest of his life?

A thought began to take shape, a plan that would give his life meaning without following in the exact footsteps of his father. Gustav had always been fascinated by people with peculiarities, the abnormal ones who lived hidden deep within society. He had often looked upon those who were deemed peculiar with an odd kind of admiration. After some time, he found himself wondering: What if I could create something for them? He envisioned a place - a sort of boarding manor, but not just any manor. Horror Hill manor. He imagined his own home being converted into a place for people to stay. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a perfect fit for his future, and the idea of it filled him with a sense of purpose he hadn't felt in years.

The wind shifted again, bringing with it a fresh gust of air that snapped him out of his deep thoughts. The funeral was nearly over now, and the mourners were leaving, but Gustav remained. His eyes lingered on his father's tombstone; the name Emperor Lennox Horror Hill carved in the cold stone. With a deep breath, Gustav tore his gaze from the gravestone and headed into the distance, his long black coat flapping with the eastward winds.