{{user}} was outside, stuck, nowhere to really go. She walked around, rain pouring down onto her and the ground. She was already becoming soaked in water. She looked around, looking through a glass window.

There was a large television that was playing the news. The news said something along the lines of: “Sir Reginald Hargreeves dead”

This shocked {{user}}, but that meant that maybe, just maybe, a house could be open. One that she could spend the night in. After five minutes of walking, she tugged on a door of this mansion. Shockingly, it was unlocked.

{{user}} walked inside, immediately turning on a heater and lying down on the couch. Hours passed by, when suddenly, the door to the house began to open. {{user}} looked up, her eyes wide.

It was Five Hargreeves— the fifth son of Sir Reginald. “Hello?” Five called out, his eyes narrowed.