The Inheritance

The Inheritance

 

As I raced down the corridor, I could hear her clomping behind me. She was indubitably encroaching on me; there was no way I would be able to keep my distance in this bulky farthingale. I was the opposite of languid as I tried to escape my soon to be assassin.

How did I come to be in this position, you may ask?

It all began earlier this evening, when I arrived at the annual gala at the Mulberry Mansion. Partygoers clad in the most decorous of apparel, this was one of the most laudable and posh occasions of the year. And quite esoteric as well, if I might add. Little did anyone know, there was a killer in the sea of haughty socialites. Not even I could augur the fallout of the night �" being hunted down by a madwoman thirsty for revenge.

You see, as a child, my great-grandmother had been responsible for the fire that killed a young girl.  This young lass had been mocked and contumely treated by almost everyone in town. The girl’s family, therefore, assumed my great-grandmother had purposefully set this and bestowed upon her the appellation of a murderer. Now, there would forever be a grudge toward my kin from the other family.

Abashed as I was, I felt that the rest of  the town had recovered from the tragic happening years ago.  So naturally, I didn’t detect anything suspicious from the friendly, genial countenance of the girl I met at the gala earlier in the evening.  A girl, I had introduced myself too.   Her name, ironically, was Destiny.

This introduction was a substantial mistake on my part. Destiny was, in fact, a descendent of the girl who had perished in the fire so many years ago.  This night she was seeking revenge in a deadly way. She invited me upstairs to view some of the historical artwork hanging in the mansion.  Knowing no better, I accepted her kind invitation.  So with great alacrity, I followed her up the grand staircase to the second floor of the mansion. When we reached the second floor, I was curious as to why there was no artwork whatsoever upstairs. As I turned to ask where it was, she had retrieved a long, lethal knife from her bag.  She was about to plunge it into me! A wild look possessed her; it was the look of a murderer.   I gasped and turned to escape her fatal clutches.  She screamed her family’s revenge upon me.

How was I going to survive this chase to the death in this enormous mansion?  What had I done to deserve this iniquity?  The fire had taken place decades ago.  Eventually, I came to the end of the corridor and saw a balcony.  I knew it was either death by the deranged girl, or suicide.  I turned to see her still chasing me with knife in hand. So I dashed to the edge of the railing, climbed over, and plummeted to my inherited death.  

Author's Note

This was originally for school, but I thought it was good enough to post here. What do you think?

Reviews

[benjammingham]

Wow. You had great word choice...likea whole crapload of big words....

I thought it was a pretty good plotline and I liked how the title matched the end; however, I feel like the end could've ended without the death. Like how is she telling the story? Flashback? and then present day? That would make sense but still....

All inall i thought it was awesome...you dont post many stories, but this one was a good one!

[Jules]

Well we had to use at least 15 of our vocab. words. That's why they're are so many "big" words haha.