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supercrabneo · 1 year

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An Invite to Castle Thade: A Neopets Mystery

PART I

Average Cybunny Becks is invited by her cousin Roxanne to a remote, seemingly abandoned castle in the middle of the Haunted Woods, where she’s meant to play host for a mysterious event involving an odd assortment of Neopians. But her cousin may have left out a few key details about the events that are about to unfold, and Becks may be in for much more than a simple dinner party...

Read Part 1/6 under the cut!

Becks stared down at the invitation in her hand, then back up at the crumbling castle. It was not what she’d been expecting. Roxanne had never said anything about a castle in her letters, and Becks had assumed that any references to “parlors”, “foyers”, “conservatories” had all been exaggerations on Roxanne’s part, little flourishes to help immerse Becks in whatever weird little event her cousin was planning.

But clearly, she’d been wrong to assume that her cousin would exaggerate. A chill breeze rattled the skeletal trees around her, their branches clacking against each other like long fingernails, the castle seeming to moan as the wind swept through its hidden corridors. Its long shadow bathed the grounds in darkness, its spires like reaching hands grasping out into the wilderness, hoping to ensnare any unwitting victims that happened by. And here Becks was, voluntarily stepping through the gates.

She shrugged off the shivers that had started to creep up her spine, chasing the goosebumps from her furry flesh. She trusted Roxanne. Her cousin would never put her in danger, so even if this mysterious event was in some old, possible-haunted castle, there was probably nothing to fear.

The Cybunny pushed against the massive doors, the heavy wood scraping across the stone floor of the entryway, announcing her arrival to anyone or anything that lurked in the dark hallways beyond.

It seemed colder inside than out. The air was stale and mildewy, chilling her lungs as she took a deep breath, trying not to panic as she stepped over the threshold. Becks couldn’t see far into the unlit castle– though the watery orange sunset attempted to shine through the stained glass window far above her, there was only so much it could illuminate before being swallowed up by the oppressive dark of the castle’s interior.

Another passing wind sent a moan deep through the belly of the vast stone structure. The red ruff of fur around her neck stood on end as the shivers returned, but she smoothed it back down, not wanting to embarrass herself in front of whatever lurked here. She couldn’t let anything know the place was having its intended effect. She had to put up a brave front. She pulled up the collar of her heavy sweater, as if its warmth could protect her against the eerie feeling that was building in her chest.

“Becks!” Roxanne’s familiar voice echoed out from somewhere beyond the light of the doorway. A single candle flickered to life, illuminating the face of a purple Wocky staring down at Becks from a good twenty feet off the ground. The Cybunny blinked in confusion, heart starting to race as she tried to make sense of the sight. But more flames danced up from hidden candelabras, light quickly spreading out from the Wocky across the entire entrance of the ancient castle.

Roxanne stood on the second floor landing, two long winding staircases on either side, now bright in the candlelight. She smiled down at Becks, who was trying to shake her momentary panic.

“You made it,” the Wocky said as her toothy grin widened. She was dressed in a stylish black tank top with jeans to match, not seeming to care that the modernity of her outfit clashed with her antique surroundings. Becks was glad to see that so little had changed about Roxanne in the time they’d been apart. She was still her cousin, even if she was now for some reason the occupant of a massive castle in the middle of the infamous Haunted Woods.

Roxanne and Becks had grown up just down the street from each other in Neopia Central, inseparable from childhood. That is, until Roxanne left. Becks would have been perfectly happy to continue exactly as they were, seeing each other every day and living simple, boring lives in the same city where they’d grown up. But Roxanne had always been restless, adventurous. Becks was perfectly content to merely read about all the strange worlds and creatures of Neopia, but Roxanne wanted to see them. To be the person who was written about.

When she finally decided to set out from Neopia Central, leaving Becks so she could explore the wide world beyond, she’d at least made sure to stay in constant contact, sending letters at every stop along her journey. Each was lovingly crafted with Roxanne’s particular brand of care, which usually consisted of hidden messages, codes, and puzzles. The longer their letter exchanges went on, the more elaborate the ciphers and clues, making them incomprehensible to anyone who wasn’t either of the cousins. The contents were always worth the effort, though. Roxanne lived a life worth reading about, always in some new and interesting place, in the middle of some new and interesting trouble.

But it seemed Roxanne had finally settled down somewhere. Becks had always hoped Roxanne would be able to tame her adventurous spirit and stay in one place long enough for Becks to finally come visit. Unfortunately, the place she’d decided to settle was the Haunted Woods.

Which was part of why she’d been so unable to resist her cousin’s invitation. Roxanne explained in her coded message that she’d invited an eclectic group of party guests to some sort of scripted event, right in the heart of the Haunted Woods. It sounded like the start of an old movie. And while Becks was nervous about leaving the safety of Neopia Central, the promise of seeing her cousin again after so many years, and in such an interesting setting, was too much to resist. Besides, Roxanne insisted that Becks play the part of host. She wouldn’t want to disappoint Roxanne by being too much of a coward to show up.

“You’re right on time!” Roxanne exclaimed from the top of the stairs. “Glad my map was clear enough. I doubt any of the locals would have wanted to give directions. Not to this place.”

“Wh-why not? Is there something I should know…?” Becks stammered.

“You managed to decode my last letter, right?” Roxanne asked, leaning over the banister.

“Yeah, but there wasn’t anything about what this place actually is…” Becks pulled the letter out of the wide collar of her sweater, holding it up to show her cousin. It was slightly crumpled from the journey, but still perfectly legible, at least if you’d memorized Roxanne’s favorite cipher. Otherwise it was all gibberish. Strings of random letters formed into nonsensical sentences. “I feel like I’m missing a page or something, I only have instructions up until dinner.”

“That’s everything you need to know for now,” Roxanne replied, her smile seeming almost devious in the flickering candlelight. “It should be pretty easy to follow along. For now, just play the good host, introduce the guests as they arrive, that sort of thing.”

“But what about you? Aren’t we doing this together?” Becks couldn’t help but feel disappointed. It had been years since they’d seen each other and Roxanne hadn’t even come down to give her a hug yet. So far, this wasn’t the heartfelt reunion she’d been expecting.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be guiding the events of the evening from backstage,” Roxanne explained. She took a step back from the banister, partially disappearing into the dark hallways of the second floor. “You’ve always been much more charming than me, I’m sure you’ll do great!”

And with that, she was gone, enveloped by the inky shadows beyond the candlelight. Becks was alone in the entryway.

“But… I’ve missed you…” she murmured into the empty stone foyer. Roxanne had always been intense, but Becks had been hoping for at least a little cousin bonding to make up for lost time. Instead, she was alone in an almost certainly haunted castle, waiting to wrangle a gaggle of strangers for some event she had no information about. An uneasy churning was building in her gut.

She tried to shake the feeling, taking a look at her now-illuminated surroundings. The castle was decorated just as one would expect– walls hung with ancient ragged tapestries, so bleached by age that whatever stories they were intended to tell had long since faded away. The floors were similarly decorated, vast rugs stretching from the entryway deep into the darkness beyond the flickering candles, clearly once magnificent, now rotten and dissolving at their edges. The hallways were lined with elegant candelabras, untouched by age, their candles fresh and barely used. Undoubtedly replaced recently by Roxanne.

Becks’ long ears twitched involuntarily. There was a sound from the path outside, the telltale crunching of wheels on a gravel path. She stood up straight, wheeling around to face the door, trying to get into character.

-----

A pastel Techo made his way up the short stone staircase to the open doorway. He startled as the coach he’d arrived in pulled away quickly, the coachman snapping his reigns to urge his steeds into a hasty retreat.

“Baldur of Brightvale, I presume?” Becks put on her most hostly voice to greet the Techo, folding her paws in an attempt at elegance. She’d been given a few vague details about each expected guest, just enough to know who they were when they arrived. This Techo was a member of the court in Brightvale castle, and according to everything Becks had read about Brightvale, that probably meant he was fiercely intelligent and cunning.

As he turned towards her, she could see it in his wide yellow eyes, that look of someone who’s always carefully calculating his next move.

“I am he,” he replied, looking her up and down. “Are you the butler or something?”

“No,” she corrected, a little insulted. “I’ll be your host this evening. Please, have a seat while we wait for the other guests to arrive.” She motioned towards a stone bench against the wall, an empty coat rack waiting at its edge.

He glanced in its direction as he took off his heavy cloak, revealing the deep red tunic beneath, its elegant gold embroidery glimmering in the candlelight. He handed her the cloak, which fell into her arms with a heavy thump, dust from his long journey rising up in a small cloud around her face. She coughed.

“There’s a coat rack…” she muttered.

“This place has seen better days,” he sneered as he took in the room, his sharp eyes trailing up the rotting tapestries. “Though I suppose that’s to be expected. Now,” he turned his gaze back to her. “Is a tour in order? Or am I free to make my own way through the castle?”

“We’re not going anywhere until the other guests arrive,” Becks responded, hanging up his coat for him despite her mounting disgust for the Techo and his judgmental gaze. But his eyes weren’t on her anymore, instead flicking back out at the grey trees, blackened in silhouette against the dying sunlight.

“Other guests?” Before Baldur could express his clear frustration, the sound of fluttering wings filled the air, announcing the next arrival.

“That journey was absolutely dreadful, absolutely!” A faerie Bruce flapped into view, flying into the room without setting foot on the dusty floor. “The skies out there are teeming with those nasty little batterflies. They nearly tore a hole straight through my wings. Don’t the citizens of the Haunted Woods have any sort of control over their local wildlife?”

He unspooled a long scarf that had been wound around his almost nonexistent neck, unveiling his beautiful fuschia bow. He straightened it as Becks held out her hands in welcome, preparing to greet him as she had Baldur. Before she could utter a word, he’d plopped his scarf down in her outstretched arms, not so much as making eye contact before turning towards the Techo.

“So good to see another normal face,” the Bruce sighed with cartoonish exasperation. “I made the mistake of stopping in a local town. You wouldn’t believe the sort of ghouls who live here…”

“Believe me, I do,” Baldur responded, his voice eerily matching the Bruce’s as his face settled into a mask-like smile. “You should have seen the coachman who brought me here. Skin like a wet sponge and more eyes than I could count.”

“Ahem,” Becks cleared her throat. The two turned back to face her, the Bruce with a slightly confused look. “You must be Quincy of Faerieland. I’m Becks, I’ll be your host this evening.”

“Oh,” Quincy uttered, a short syllable that somehow carried the full weight of the disappointment that he not only had to acknowledge her existence, but may have made a mistake by not doing so in the first place. “Do you… own this castle, then?”

“No,” Becks replied. She could see the tension leave his tiny shoulders. Clearly, he thought, Becks wasn’t that important. She sighed, carefully holding back an eyeroll. “Like I said. I’m your host.”

“All right then,” he said dismissively, turning back to Baldur.

Becks huffed over to the coat rack, depositing the Bruce’s scarf with as much obvious annoyance as she could muster while the two exchanged pleasantries.

The next guest didn’t arrive for a few long minutes, allowing ample time for the two high-class Neopians to have a back-and-forth about how disgusting they found the locals and how much they reminded them of whatever version of lowly peasants they’d both had the misfortune to encounter in their home provinces.

The next coach that arrived was obviously more expensive than Baldur’s had been, instantly drawing the attention of both Baldur and Quincy. The Maraquan Acara who slid out from the passenger’s seat jingled as she walked up to the doors, elegant jewelry draped everywhere it could fit. She had a wide silver necklace, set with a dazzling blue sapphire which reflected the weak candlelight of the entrance. Two heavy silver earrings pulled at her finlike ears. And on each tentacle, a bracelet to match, dotted with tiny glimmering jewels.

She made her way up the stairs, sashaying as her suckered tentacles gripped the stone steps. Her eyes fell on Baldur, and she flashed him a coy smile as she approached him.

“Are you…” she asked, voice delicate and dripping with feminine guile. “Guarded_Heart849? It’s me. Sirena32.”

Baldur was clearly confused.

“I’m afraid not, miss Sirena,” he responded. “Though I’m sure I’m still pleased to make your acquaintance.” Her demeanor shifted instantly, a slight embarrassed flush rising in her olive-grey cheeks.

“Oh, of course, yes, my apologies,” she stammered, tripping slightly as she slithered into the foyer. She locked eyes with Quincy, instead, expression settling back into the same coy smile. She fluttered her eyelashes. “Then… you must be…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, madame,” Quincy took a step away from the advancing Acara, holding up his flippers defensively.

“Of course not,” she winked.

“I mean it!” He insisted, crossing his arms with finality. “You must be talking about our host over there. The plain-looking Cybunny.”

“Hey,” Becks couldn’t help but protest. The Acara turned, noticing her for the first time.

“No,” Sirena squinted at her. “I don’t think so. And I’m guessing it’s not the one behind her, either.” Sirena gestured with a silver-clad tentacle towards the darkness behind Becks.

Becks’ heart froze. Behind…? Roxanne’s plan was apparently to stay in the shadows the whole night, a secret host pulling the strings of whatever she had planned. If there was something behind her… it probably wasn’t Roxanne.

She could suddenly hear a crunching from the dark hallway. Her long ear swiveled, focusing on the distinctive sound not a foot away, imagining a million horrors that could be standing in the gloom.

She turned.

There was an Aisha standing beside her. Fully decked-out in a Kreludor space-suit, its two pairs of long ears poking out from the dome of its helmet. One paw was inside the helmet, clutching a half-eaten granola bar, crumbs sticking to the bright green fur around its mouth. It chewed slowly as it looked up to meet Becks’ gaze, its one empty sleeve hanging limply at its side.

Becks quickly took Roxanne’s instructions back out of her sweater. She scanned them again, even though she’d done her best to memorize everything she was supposed to know. It was as she thought. There was no Aisha from Kreludor on the list, or any Aisha at all, for that matter.

“Are you supposed to be here?” She asked the little green alien. It nodded enthusiastically.

Becks stared down at it for another moment as it slowly took another bite of its granola bar. It wasn’t possible Roxanne had forgotten one of the guests, she was too thorough to make that sort of mistake. But it was possible she had some kind of plan that involved a secret guest, one Becks hadn’t known about. She figured it was best not to question the visitor from the stars. She was sure its presence would make sense at some point down the line.

She turned back to the rest of the guests.

Yet another had joined their ranks while she’d been occupied by the Aisha. A Tyrannian Usul was standing in the doorway, club in hand, much to the apparent horror of the other guests. Quincy held his beak, trying to block out the smell emanating from the creature.

“Me Unga,” the Usul grunted. “Me here for battledome challenge.”

“You have the wrong place,” Quincy blurted out, his relief clear.

“If you were looking for the Stone Dome, you’ve taken a wrong turn,” Baldur explained patiently.

“No,” Unga explained. “This right address.”

“She’s correct,” Becks jumped in, trying not to breathe in any of the slowly toxifying air as she spoke. “This is Unga of Tyrannia. She’ll be one of our guests this evening.”

Unga stepped forward, her smell stepping along with her. The crowd shifted away. The Usul approached Becks, who tried her best to stomach the thick Tyrannian funk filling the space between them. Unga dropped her club in Becks’ hands.

“You butler?” Unga asked.

“No,” Becks sighed. “I’m the host. Why does everyone keep handing me their stuff…”

“How many more guests are we expecting?” Quincy huffed. “I traveled quite a ways to be here and would appreciate it if we could move on with the festivities.”

“Just one more,” Becks replied. And, as if on cue, the sound of crunching gravel announced his arrival.

An ice Hissi appeared on the path outside, what was visible of his smooth translucent skin shimmering in the light spilling out from the open doorway. Slightly ahead of him was the hunched figure of a mutant Bori, limping its way towards the castle steps.

“Everyone, this is Jasper of Terror Mountain, our final guest,” Becks explained, trying to sound authoritative and mysterious to recover the hostly air she’d already lost.

“There, you daft fool,” the Bori called out, turning to face the Hissi. “I’ve taken you to the castle. Against all sanity…”

“Thanks,” Jasper replied, unenthused. “You can go now.” He started to slither past the Bori. But a clawed hand shot out, stopping the Hissi before he could start up the staircase.

“If you step into that castle you may never see daylight again,” the Bori warned, his voice grave and serious. But the Hissi flapped his icy wing, batting the Bori’s claw out of his way. He hurried up the steps, joining the other guests in the doorway.

“Ugh, he’s been going on about this for miles,” huffed Jasper. “The locals are such a superstitious bunch. You wouldn’t believe what it took to get a guide to take me up here…”

“I never should have done it,” the Bori called up to him. “I don’t know how I’ll live with myself knowing what fate I’ve brought upon you. The whole lot of you are doomed! You’ve entered the Castle of Eliv Thade, and none of you will make it out alive!”

And with that, the heavy doors slammed shut, sealing Becks and the strange assortment of guests inside.

#workin on a little series #neopets #neopets fanfic #neopets art #usul #acara #cybunny #alien aisha #faerie bruce #hissi #pastel techo #i have been possessed by some kind of spirit #it drives me to write this #the only way to exorcise it is to finish #then i can submit to the neopian times and return to my life

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