Phantom of House Beneviento (Donna X Fem Reader)

Chapter 1: Welcome to Romania

The carriage ride was dreadfully long and silent, you're lulled to sleep by the rhythmic stomping of horse hooves and sway of the cab. With a sudden jerk you wake and find yourself stopped, you wiped the sleep from your eyes and yawned. Leaning over you glance outside the window to see a stone statue of a woman brandishing a shield and sword. Your aunt who's sitting in front of you cleared her throat, and ushered for you to exit once the driver opened the door. You take the hand of the driver, and step out from the carriage onto the uneven cobblestone. You stretched out your legs, and bring feeling back to them while you watched, and waited for your aunt. She is a frail but prideful woman and refuses to admit help until the last possible second. Her skin hung off her bones and her wrinkles are comparable to the droopy faced hound she carries everywhere with her. A crowd formed to gawk at the new arrivals, their uncanny stares caused goosebumps over your skin. Children peek behind the legs of their parents while others climbed the statue for a better look. You ran your hands over the front of your long-sleeved, ruffle shirt to try and soothe your nerves.

At long last your aunt succeeded in exiting the carriage only to smack your hands away with her cane. She hated when you did that, and you decided it would be safer to stick your hands in your pants pockets instead. The crowd parted for you and your aunt like the red sea. She was only 5' but wore a wide-brimmed, purple hat with a lengthy feather on top and an equally purple dress which made her stick out.

Your aunt paused for only a moment when her dog relieved himself on a spot of grass that grew on the side of the path. The stone walkway turned into dirt and creepily went uphill to a gated area. At the top is a blue church with a bell tower and a gated graveyard further up. It looks to be in better condition than the rest of the homes, it's walls are a light blue with partially sun-bleached tiles for the roof. Out front on the steps is a young boy around your age plus or minus a year or two. He approached the two of you with a wide smile that showed all his teeth; he had dark-brown hair that looked as if it hadn't been washed or brushed ever in his life, and his dingy clothes were stained with various different shades of something. You scrunched up your nose when he got closer because the stench of fish burned your nostrils. He bowed respectfully to your aunt, and when she offered her hand he took it, and kissed the back of it.

"What is your name?" She asked.

"Salvatore Moreau ma'am." He responded.

"Well Mr. Moreau, you are quite the refined gentleman."

"Oh please, just Salvatore ma'am. Mr. Moreau is my father, he runs the fishing charters down at the bay." Salvatore said proudly.

That would explain the fish smell. Your aunt patted him on the cheek and continued on her way, his green eyes met with yours. His smile was not pleasant and borderline unsettling like the rest of the village, a chill ran up your spine as you tried to walk around. He stepped to the side to cut you off, and held out his hand to take yours, you glanced over his shoulder, and noticed your aunt eyeing you. You offered your hand to shake his, and quickly withdrew when he tried to kiss it like he did with your aunt's.

"What might your name be?" He asked.

"Y/N." You answered curtly.

"Beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Welcome to our village! If you need anything, and I do mean anything, stop by the bay and look for the giant green boat that has a hammerhead carved on the front. That's my charter boat, and you're welcome anytime!" He beamed.

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind." You replied nonchalantly.

Salvatore stepped back and tipped his invisible hat to you, and your aunt before he went on his way. Your aunt sized you up, and hummed approvingly.