You stand in front of the wrought iron gates with the huge sign "ZOO" atop it, a large black iron key hanging from a leather strap in your hand. It's like something out of a bad novel. Two days ago, you were a normal loner, no family to speak of and barely any income, scratching your way through the world. Community college was slowly becoming a pipe dream as your cost of living rose while your part-time income remained stagnant. You were fairly certain you wouldn't be able to afford rent next year, let alone tuition. Another college drop-out, that's you.
Then it arrived. A letter from a lawyer's office, advising you to visit on account of an important family matter. Considering you were an only child whose parents had passed away years ago, and no extended family to speak of, you nearly disregarded it. However, in the end, curiosity won out. After all, it was just an afternoon, not like you had anything better to do now that you couldn't afford school. And that's how you ended up here.
Still don't get it? Well, apparently that letter had to do with the estate of your late grandfather on your father's side, a total weirdo and fanatical animal conservationist. Your parents never mentioned him, probably for good reason. At first, you were incredulous that you were the heir to a grand estate, and that the firm had been searching for your parents and you for a while. Then you had a bit of hope that maybe, just maybe, you grab the money and run, you know, right to the registrar's office! But that was all too soon dashed as well. Oh, you might be able to afford college now, but only if you kept your grandfather's zoo running. And profitable. And lived in his creepy house as well.
Strapped for money, you figured, oh, well, no rent, and it's just a zoo, right? Wrong. Your grandfather had a thing for cryptozoology, not to mention the occult. Of course, the lawyers glossed over all this, and you were only too eager to accept any form of enrichment. You didn't think that there might be a catch. The letter said something about magic, but that probably referred to theme park stuff. You know, the most "magical place on earth?" Because, of course, magic wasn't real.
But now, standing in front of the huge gates, under a rather gloomy sky, you could find it in yourself to believe that magic existed, because, quite frankly, the place looked like it was cursed. The main house, the spires of which could be seen in the distance beyond the dark trees, resembled a gothic castle more than a mansion. Sighing to yourself, you finally work up the nerve to insert the key into the gates. Opening the lock with a loud click, you push open one side of the gate, which creaks ominously. Closing it behind you, you re-insert the key from the inside and lock up. The movers, with your meager belongings, will come tomorrow, and all you have now is one rolling suitcase with extra clothes.
Looking around, you debate your next step.