After a day's worth of browsing real estate websites, I've found a house that I really like the look of. Unfortunately, it's not in Gotham Proper, but in Bristol Township.
Bristol, the wealthy dream of every Gothamite. Split into three neighborhoods that clearly show the subtler divides between the elite.
The quiet township lies directly north of Gotham on the mainland, right off the Kane Memorial Bridge and a good twenty miles southeast of the slaughter swamp.
I will admit, I do have another reason for considering this house so much more heavily than some of the nicer neighborhoods in Gotham proper.
I used to daydream about moving to Bristol with Harleen after our wedding, and I got the Professorship I was aiming for. Of course, I'd need to have finished my PHD before I could get the professorship, but I was so close I was treating it as a given. Despite the three years between now and then, having a house in Bristol still sounds…nice. Even if it's only in the Heights neighborhood and not in Crest Hill with the likes of the Waynes or the Drakes.
I recently drove past it on my way to Slaughter Swamp. Even though I only got a short look, it still looks like the place I dreamed of moving to with Harleen. The large and beautiful houses are all in styles that I would've loved to live in and build a family.
Most of the Manors are in either Colonial, Cape Cod, or Georgian, though there is the occasional Victorian manor. Meanwhile, most of the suburban houses are in a craftsman style, but like the manors, there is the occasional Victorian spotting the suburban sprawl.
The stylistic choices of each of the neighborhoods, and the specific manors and houses within each one, highlight the time periods they were constructed in, and the differing desires the average person had during their construction. The manors were primarily constructed during the late colonial period, when the American dream emphasised the ideal house as consisting of large tracks of farmable land, while the suburban houses were mostly constructed during the mid to late 1900s, which is when the American dream heavily shifted towards the modern-day ideal white picket fences.
Of course, I only know all of that because the topic of my master's thesis was on how architectural styles can showcase cultural or personal values. Of course, I used Old Gotham and Metropolis as my examples instead of the different neighborhoods of Bristol, but the point still stands.
There's one specific manor that I'm interested in. It sits right on the border of Crest Hill Woods, most of the four-acre property being in the woods proper, but the seven-thousand-square-foot manor itself is outside of it. Normally, any house that could be described as a mansion would be outside the realm of comfortable spending, especially one with four acres worth of property and six thousand square feet. But fortunately for me, instead of costing around twelve million, the asking price is only two million due to one thing.
Apparently, the estate was the site of a mass murder in 1899. An entire family of seven, plus five staff members, was found murdered throughout the house and property, killed via a slit throat. The way they were positioned apparently suggested that they were killed while going about their day-to-day lives.
Ever since the massacre happened, one hundred and sixteen years ago, the estate has remained uninhabited and unmaintained. Mostly because it's been passed from real estate developer to real estate developer who've tried and failed to turn it into high-class apartments. Most of the interference was due to interference from the local government. Normally, I'm annoyed by NIMBYERS, but this time they've gotten me a great deal on a mansion. A mansion that I am currently driving to check out.
I turn off the main road heading into the woods of Crest Hill and onto a gravel road that currently needs a lot of maintenance. A good amount of weeds have sprouted up, and several nearby trees have grown enough to impede the road itself.
After a bumpy half-minute drive down the road, I come across a swung-open gate of the Victorian style. The gate itself is ornate yet heavily rusted and almost falling off the crumbling brick fence that lines the boundary of the estate. The bricks were once red bricks, but now mossed over and crumbling, they are easily mistaken for some kind of forest plant life.
Once I'm past the gate, I'm greeted by the rundown yard. Long grass that will reach up to my knees, a large amount of weeds, and several large bushes dominate the yard in front of the manor itself. Strangely enough, almost no trees are in the yard, seemingly blocked by the long-defunct brick walls.
I park my car next to an already parked car that I'm assuming belongs to a real estate agent. The car itself is a decently fancy blueish-gray Rolls-Royce or BMW. I think anyway. I'm not a car guy, and both of those companies make pretty similar cars. I think…? Either way, the quality of the car assures me I'm speaking with someone well up the real estate ladder.
"Mr. Mallone? I'm J. Davenport". A handsome and well-dressed middle-aged man speaks, holding his hand out for a handshake. His eyes move up and down my figure. I'm dressed in nicer clothes than usual, a forest green cable knit sweater that I transmuted out of a ratty hoodie, and some slacks that have undergone a massive improvement in appearance. So hopefully my appearance isn't an issue.
I take the hand and give it a nice and firm shake, "Nice to meet you…" I say before I pause and realize something, "Davenport… Are you the owner of the real estate firm?"
He smiles and releases my hand from the handshake, "That I am. Usually, I let my employees handle housing sales, but considering how literally close to home this property is, I thought it would be best to handle this myself."
"That makes sense," I respond politely since I'm talking with what could be considered to be my future neighbor.
"Now, I was thinking I should start by informing you that the property needs to be reconnected to the water, sewage, and electrical systems." Davenport starts "The electrical system got disconnected during a storm back in 1901, and with the upgrades done, reconnection as is would probably cause a fire. The sewage and water systems were disconnected when the town upgraded and connected to the wider Gotham system." He says.
Damn, that's gonna be a pain and cost a good deal
"Unfortunate. What state is the house in?" I ask
"It… truthfully it needs to be torn down," he says," It is truly beyond saving. The foundation is splitting, entire interior walls are missing, and my workers have found traces of deadly amounts of substances, including arsenic, asbestos, and lead."
"Hm…well, be that as it may, I would like to judge it for myself. Even if I have to tear down some of it, I would like to preserve as much of the original structure as I can," I respond as I turn my attention to the mansion.
It definitely fits the bill of an abandoned mansion. Almost all of the paint is gone, none of the windows remain, and I think some of the roof has caved in. Despite that, it still looks quite nice even now. The trim is ornate and quite striking; the spacious-looking porch that wraps around most of the front ends at the left corner is due to the presence of one of those turret/tower things that I love about Victorian houses.
The octagonal tower starts on the first floor and stretches up past the attic and roof. It's the highest point of the manor, which is why a rusted but ornate weather vane sits on top.
All in all, I am sure that back when it was well-maintained, I would have loved to live here. I can almost imagine how it must have looked back when it was newly built, paint shining in the morning sun.
"Well…alright. I don't see any harm in at least showing you the first floor. Most of the danger was on the second floor, back when we could access it anyway."
I wonder what he means by that as we start walking towards the house. The steps up to the porch creak as we ascend them, and the ornate but very old door squeaks as Davenport opens it.
We step inside, and I realise what exactly he meant. The entire stairway is missing. Just gone. "How the hell…?"
Davenport chuckles at that, "The stairwell collapsed. If you take a closer look, you'll see how there's actually a massive hole in the basement that's filled with rubble."
I take a closer look and see that he is one hundred percent right. There is just a gaping hole leading down into the basement.
"Speaking of the basement, what's the situation there?"
"No wiring or piping to speak of, and the walls are just bare stone brick, so renovating the basement should be pretty quick," Davenport responds, giving me a decent rundown on the state of the basement.
"Great," I mutter as I move from the foyer and into the room to the right of me. Making my way through the gaping hole that used to be the door, I entered what I think might have been a sitting room based on the remnants of long-decayed furniture. At the far exterior facing corner is the tower, or what remains of it. The upper parts of the tower have rotted away and collapsed downwards, leaving only the exterior walls.
After a moment of observing the state of the sitting room, I move onto the adjacent dining room, and find it to be in much the same state. Remnants of rotted away furniture and the rubble from the collapsed chandelier.
"Alright, I think I've seen enough to know this house can't be salvaged," I say as I start heading for the front door.
"Great. It is in a remarkably good state even after more than a hundred years of no maintenance," Davenport says, trying to sell me on the lot a bit more or something, "And the architecture is really something. We still have the blueprints on file if you're interested in reconstructing it."
Stepping back out into the morning light of the exterior world, "Well…you said the asking price is two million?" I ask, getting a nod in return from him, "Well, alright…I think I'll take it."
Davenport's face is overcome with a wide smile, "Excellent, if you'd like, I can get you in touch with my preferred construction agency?" he says as he reaches out his hand for a handshake to seal the deal.
I grab his hand and give it another firm shake, "That will be helpful."
"Great! I'll get my secretary to send you the paperwork so you can get a better look at everything."
"Great," I say as I unlock my car, get in, and drive back home.