Wolf Creek Manor
Bloodline Inheritance
by Cesilie Robinson Chapter One
The storm woke Nora Blake before the dream could
finish devouring her.
Rain hammered against the window in sheets, each
strike echoing the last frantic moments of her
nightmare—trees twisting in moonlight, a shadowed
figure calling her name, and the distant, bone deep
howl. She lay frozen for a moment, chest tight, breath
shaky, her mind hunting for the last image before she
woke… but it evaporated like fog.
"What was that?" she whispered into the dim room.
A cold shiver worked its way down her spine. Something
about the dream felt different—too vivid, too heavy, as if
her subconscious was trying to warn her. Outside,
thunder rolled low across the morning sky. The alarm
clock blinked 6:32 AM.
Nora pushed herself upright and swung her legs out of
bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Coffee. She
needed coffee more than oxygen.
Down the hall, her roommate Lila was already
awake—Nora heard faint music through her door,
upbeat and completely at odds with Nora's rain cloud
mood. Lila was everything Nora wasn't:
bright, warm, effortlessly functional before noon.
"Morning, storm gremlin," Lila called from her room as
Nora passed. "Coffee's fresh."
Nora managed a weak chuckle. "You're a saint."
She padded into the small kitchen, grabbed her favorite
mug, filled it with coffee, and held it close, letting the
steam warm her hands. She reached into the fridge for
the creamer.
"Lila!" she called. "Want any breakfast?"
The rain continued its relentless assault on the windows.
Nora stared out through the large kitchen glass, that
strange feeling still clinging to her.
Lila half danced out of her room, music still playing
faintly. "You say something?"
Nora held up the egg carton. "Breakfast?"
"Sure," Lila replied, grabbing the bagels from the
cabinet.
Nora's mind wandered—back to the dream, to that
voice, that howl. Why did it feel like it was meant for her?
After a few steadying sips of coffee, Nora grabbed a pan
and set it on the burner.
"So… any plans after class?" Lila asked.
"Honestly? I'll probably come home and crash. Sleep
last night was trash."
Lila frowned. "Is there a reason? Something you want to
talk about?"
"I'm not really sure I understand it enough to talk
about…" Nora murmured.
That's when she saw it.
A letter lay on the floor directly beneath their drop
box—a place only management or delivery services
used. The envelope was thick, heavy, almost
old fashioned. Her name was written in precise ink:
Nora Blake
"What?" Lila asked when Nora suddenly stopped
mid sentence. She followed Nora's gaze and spotted
the letter. "Oh… what's that?"
"I'm not sure," Nora said quietly.
There was no return address. Just a faint embossed
symbol on the back—a crescent moon carved around a
stylized crest she didn't recognize.
Her stomach tightened.
She hesitated before picking it up. Something about it
felt… beyond normal, yet strangely familiar.
She slid a thumb beneath the sealed flap but paused. A
sudden, eerie déjà vu washed over her.
The dream. The storm. Now the letter.
It felt connected, though she couldn't explain why.
Lila, noticing Nora's expression, poked her gently in the
temple. "You okay? You look like you just found a tax bill
from hell."
Nora blinked and shook off the fog. "It's nothing. Just…
weird mail."
Lila shrugged, unconvinced, and disappeared briefly to
turn off her music before returning to the kitchen—where
the bacon Nora had forgotten was beginning to crisp.
"Open the letter, Nora. Don't just hold it," Lila said,
gesturing toward it.
Nora turned the envelope over again, tracing the strange
moon emblem. What could be important enough to be
delivered like this?
Finally, she opened it.
Inside was a single sheet of parchment—actual
parchment—with the same crest pressed in wax at the
top. The handwriting matched the outside: elegant and
deliberate.
She skimmed only the first few lines before her heart
slammed into her ribs.
It spoke of inheritance. A place she had never heard of.
A responsibility passed down through blood. And a
summons.
Wolf Creek Manor.
Her vision blurred. This had to be some elaborate scam.
But the letter was too specific, too intimate. It referenced
a family line she barely knew—one her late mother had
always refused to talk about.
The letter ended with a date. A deadline.
Nora leaned against the counter beside Lila, pressing a
palm to her temple. Lila took the opportunity to gently
snatch the letter and read it herself.
This couldn't be real, Nora thought. She was a
med student with exams approaching, clinical hours to
finish, a future she'd meticulously built brick by brick.
Taking time off wasn't simple. It wasn't easy.
It wasn't her.
But the letter felt heavy in her hands—an anchor.
If she left, she'd have to request a temporary withdrawal
from her program—something that risked delaying her
entire academic path. Lila would have questions. Her
professors would want explanations. Everything she'd
worked for would be put on pause.
Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that the dream and
the storm weren't coincidences. The call in the
night—her name spoken by a voice she didn't
recognize—still echoed in her bones.
Lila folded the letter carefully, her hands trembling.
"What are you going to do?" she asked, already knowing
the answer from Nora's expression.
Tomorrow, Nora would meet with her program advisor.
She would take time off.
She didn't know why. She didn't know what waited for
her at Wolf Creek Manor.
But something inside told her that her life had already
changed the moment she broke the seal.
And whatever was coming… had already begun.