An Inheritance

This is a Gothic story I wrote for Helena's Blue Rose Cafe'. Writing this piece yanked me right out of my comfort zone. Thank you Helena

Inheritance

Looking around my empty apartment, I am perplexed at why on earth I would ever leave this place of comfort and security.  Many hours have been spent writing under the yellow incandescent light in what will soon be my former living room.  Sure this is an apartment in a dirty city, and I have spent a lot of time barricaded in its walls, but so many a joyful poem found safe haven, and expression here.  The struggle to decide to leave this place will be fodder for many a poem to come, for it is through the struggling and intensity that many of my pieces are conceived and born.  The tattered but still evident crown moldings, trim work and tray ceilings may be covered by countless layers of paint, but the beauty never escaped my notice.  I did wonder about what happened in these rooms while each layer was the top layer.  Beauty can be found everywhere and in the most unlikely of places.

 

I left the attorneys office last week with a skeleton key in hand which, I am told, will unlock the door to what is left behind from my families estate.  I reluctantly received the keys when he told me, in no uncertain terms, that I am the sole remaining heir to this sizeable estate.  I find it hard to imagine that of my truly sizeable family, I am the only one left.  I headed out of his office, my mind reeling with thoughts of all my brothers, sisters, and cousins.  I tried to recall them all and lost count many times; how can there be so many of us and yet I am the “Only” one left? Unable to recall even half of their names, my mind returned to memories of my family’s estate.  I walked uptown as thoughts of my last visit to Heartwood burned their way back into my awareness.

 

I couldn’t have been more than seven years old when we last visited the place of my nightmares.  Heartwood is so big I have to wonder if even the staff would get lost at times, within its endless halls.  As a child the immensity of the place became magnified to the realm of incomprehensible.  We arrived in mid-day and were escorted to our enormous suite; my sisters and I were instructed to go outside to play.  On the way down we were greeted by our cousins who led the way to what was for me an utterly delightful place to play.  I cannot begin to describe the utter delight I found playing under the enormous tree out back.  This tree, an ancient oak I was later told, appeared to be a giant so large that all of us children could barely hold hands to form a ring around it.  We used to meet every summer for a family reunion, at least that was until my father and Uncle Geoff had a huge fight that fateful summer which is when my experience gave place for the nightmares to take up residence.     

 

My parents had seven children, and I am the youngest, the seventh of seven sisters.  My father Charles is the seventh son of seven sons, and my mother Gwyneth, the seventh daughter of seven daughters.  When I examined just our side of the family alone it became impossible to imagine I am the only one left.  My uncle Geoffrey alone had seven sons and three daughters, who all grew up at Heartwood.  To imagine all of the aunts, uncles, cousins and siblings, it became impossible for me to grasp that only I remain.  I lost contact with every other member of our extended family that year I attended our last reunion.  I had to trust the attorney when he said there is no one else.  Terror filled my heart as I pulled the door to my perfect little apartment shut for the last time.  There is no going back now; I am forced to leave everything I have known for so many years, and leap empty handed into the void.  I had hoped to sell the place, but from what I am told, I am now the only person in the country with enough money to actually buy the property.  At the very least it is my responsibility to manage the property until I could make other arrangements.

 

I hired a driver to take me and my meager possessions across the state to what is to become my new, if hopefully temporary home.  The trip was peppered by emotions so varied as to defy description completely.  I tried to escape remembering my last visit to the place which continues to haunt my sleep.  When the driver exited the highway we headed toward a mountain in the distance; something snapped in me when I saw the monolith up ahead.  Adrenalin coursed through me, burning its way throughout my entire body.  

Memories of the night that scarred my very soul came flooding back, and try as I might I could not hold them back.  I began to sob and the driver checked me out in the rear view mirror, “Are you okay?” he asked me with concern on his aging face.  “I am fine”, I said as I choked back the tears. 

 

My cousins and I played for hours on the endless grounds of Heartwood, and then as the sun began to set, we were all called inside for baths and dinner.  The table we sat at, for this formal meal, dwarfed even all of the adults we were seated among.  The meal itself exquisite and the service by the staff, well, impeccable.  I sat mesmerized as they set our desert on fire in pans by the table side.  By the time we children were headed off to bed my exhaustion took me over so completely that I could barely hold my head up.  My mother placed me in bed with three of my sisters where I promptly fell into a deep sleep.

 

A deep, bone chilling cold awoke me from my slumber and I looked around with a start.  I found myself alone in the dark of a dank cold place far away from the comfort of the warm bed I last remembered with my sisters.  Groggily, I looked around to realize that where ever I found myself at that time, the darkness could not be pierced by my sight.  I literally could not see my hand right in front of my face.  I screamed as loud a humanly possible, jumped up from the icy cold floor, and took off running; I immediately ran into a literal wall, smashing my face, and screamed along with the deafening wail of pain.  My heart beat so hard, and so loud, as I tried to comprehend where I am and why I am there.  I swear I heard a cackle of a laugh but I couldn’t decide in which direction I could run to evade the laughter I most certainly heard.  My screams grew louder and more desperate by the minute as I tried to find my way out of this terrifying place.

 

The car I was riding in hit a pothole and it literally shook me out of the terror filled memories flooding my mind.  We turned off the country road and I asked where we were, and Dave my driver said, “We just entered the driveway.”  I nodded to acknowledge his answer and by the expression on his face he knew I was not okay. I guessed he watched my expressions as I recalled the horror of my early childhood experiences.  It seemed like a great deal of time passed as we headed down the “driveway.”  It must have been at least 20 minutes before I saw the palatial home come into view; it seems so much bigger and so much less frightening than I last remembered.  We were still at least a mile from the circle drive in front of Heartwood, and the closer we got, the less imposing the home appeared. 

 

We pulled in to the circle drive, and a familiar face came out the door to greet us, I recognized Ramsey the houseman who helped find me that terrifying night so long ago.  As the men unpacked my things from the car, calm began to emerge, and my rational mind regained control.

Ramsey finished bringing my bags inside and I generously tipped Dave and thanked him for his sensitivity.  Ramsey stood with me as we watched the car drive back down the long driveway, headed back from where he came.  Once out of site Ramsey gave me a big, unexpected hug and said, “It is so great to finally see you back here.” He said as we headed inside to the grand entry of Heartwood.  He led me up the grand staircase and this time we headed to the right; I am bringing you to the Master Suite wing for you are now the master of Heartwood.  We entered a huge living room which was only the entrance to my wing of the massive home; this set of rooms took the breath out of my chest for all its beauty.  Ramsey said as he parted, “Dinner will be ready by 7:00 pm and he slipped out of the room.  I spun around looking in awe at every nook and cranny of this incredible place.  I went into the bedroom and flung myself on the luxuriously appointed bed. I can’t believe I felt terror at idea of returning to such and exquisitely beautiful palace.

 

 “How silly am I?” I thought as I unpacked my bags; the imagination of children can certainly run away with them.  Maybe these things never happened; maybe I sleep walked my way into the catacombs under the estate.  What ever the case I am feeling a bit silly for carrying around such a terror for so many years.  I looked out the enormous window across the vastness of manicured lands surrounding me and noticed a heavy pea soup fog coming across the grounds like a creature it engulfed everything in sight.  For some reason the fog chilled me to the bone and sent the fear back inside me. The fear defies description and is completely irrational, but as real as if I were facing a hungry mama bear defending her cubs.

 

Ramsey softly knocked on my door; surprised I turned to the clock, which displayed 7:15 pm. I have stood here looking out the window for three hours and it feels as though only a moment passed.  I descended the massive staircase lined with portraits of my predecessors on the walls, down the great hall to the dining room where the massive table was set for one.  “Ramsey,” I asked “would you join me for dinner?” Not tonight, for I must be about my work but please enjoy he replied as he headed off to the work.  I hungrily ate my luscious feast…alone again I find myself eating, only now it is not out of boxes from the local Chinese restaurant, but on fine china, silver ware, and Bacharach crystal vessels.  Even the finest meal tastes a bit bland when consumed while utterly alone.

 

I went into the kitchen to get a cup of chamomile to help me sleep and found no one about.  Silently I carried my tea up to the Master Suite and set it on the bed stand as I climbed into my immense and comfortable bed.  Sleep found me before I had a chance to sip my night time potion.  The very next thing I remember is feeling a familiar bone chilling cold which woke me with a start.  “What?” I thought startled, as I knew the feel of this place; I found myself once again in the catacombs the same as many years ago.  I blinked repeatedly to force my eyes to acclimate to the darkness which seemed so heavy as though it did contain mass.  Quietly, I stood sliding my hand against the cold and damp wall next to me.  As I made it to my feet I heard the familiar sound of a cackle.  Determined not to be the victim all over again, I moved toward the sound of the laughter.  Suddenly, as I made my way down the hall an arm reached out and grabbed me, pulling me into an invisible alcove.  An unfamiliar hand grasped my face covering my mouth.  She whispered softly, almost silently into my ear, “Quiet…it is Ramsey laughing and you are his last remaining target before the estate falls to him.” said my cousin.  She was thought to be dead after she went missing for many years.  She hid in the catacombs all those years after she saw Ramsey killing her eldest sister.  Turns out he’d killed everyone.    

Reviews

[Helen Crutchett]

Veronica, this is a gothic thriller, through and through. It kept me 'on tender hooks', wondering what on earth was going to happen next. I loved the description of the mansion. Great suspense, fabulous story and top marks! Thank you for joining in the contest! ~ Helena

[Veronica Chandler]

I am honored by your words Helena...you have no idea how they lift my spirit.
Thank you!

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

chilling!

[Veronica Chandler]

Thank You!