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Ungrateful Heir

Brett P. S.

UL HEIR

  Brett P. S.

  Copyright © 2014 Brett P. S.

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Art

  Derivative work of "Crypt of San Martino ai Monti, Rome" by François-Marius Granet.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  I – Breaking In

  II – Other Brother

  III – Off to War

  IV – She Purred

  I – Breaking In

  Gerald cracked open the gates to the catacombs, and a soft beam of moonlight crept through. The door was heavy, like it was thick stone, even though the better half was iron and glass. Hugging close to the side, he slipped through the crack. It was a cold autumn night, and he could see the chills of his breathing puff up in wisps of white air. So cold. He should have packed a coat. Why didn’t he?

  “Hello, Nina,” Gerald said.

  The family cat slid by his muddy boots and rubbed the side of its head as it trotted along. Nina must have followed him out here. Her black fur didn’t show up well, even with the full moon. It was no surprise he didn’t see her following.

  “Well,” he said, “I think I should have a witness.”

  The cat meowed, as if in agreement, and jumped down the first step. Gerald nodded and followed her, closing shut the front gates. His hands were clammy from the meal he finished an hour prior. Eating heavily always drained him. His heart was weak, and it only took a bit of food to set him back. A hot meal was the least of his worries though. A foul odor gushed up from the depths of the staircase and into his nose. The scent brought up thoughts of diseased corpses his body was ill equipped to handle. Gerald covered his mouth and breathed through his tunic.

  “Lead the way, Nina.”

  Nina strode downward with a springy bounce in her step. A creature like her would be at home in this place, but Gerald didn’t like it. A feeling in his stomach made his meal want to climb back up out of his throat. Moreover, the playful animal was too comfortable. The feeling was neither natural nor mutual.

  “I hope you know where you’re going,” he said.

  They traveled down until his feet planted firmly at the base cement flooring of the family catacombs. The stench grew stronger than from the entrance. It was almost too much to bear, but with a heavy sleeve of his tunic pressed against his mouth, he could bear it.

  “I’ll take it from here,” he said. “We’re going to pay my dear uncle a visit.”

  Nina meowed again. While Gerald squinted and stared forward, she sat down and licked her paw.

  II – Other Brother

  Gerald paced across shelves of old urns. Cracks in the clay showed on some of the older ones, but he didn’t have the time to bother. The family also paid little respect to the upkeep. After all, this wasn’t a museum. It was a place to discard the dead. Reaching further back, he passed the urns. Now, cleaned corpses of shriveled flesh and bone laid across inlets in the walls. Cobwebs and moldy wrappings covered them, but he could still see the broken teeth and well preserved limbs in spots. He was close now. The odor was as strong as it could be, and he was growing accustomed to it. Gerald withdrew his arm.

  “Nina,” he asked, “Where did you go?”

  He glanced around the dim pit for the reflected yellow eyes. He didn’t see her from the way he came, and she didn’t go ahead. He would have noticed. Yes, he definitely would have.

  “Nina, come out, girl,” he said.

  Father would take it poorly if she never returned. At times, Gerald imagined he cared more about the beast than his own sons. If he loved them both as flesh and blood, then he would have stopped Jacob from …

  “Oh, there you are,” he said as Nina strode past his leg.

  She was rubbing her scent on him again. Gerald had the feeling it wasn’t real affection. She was claiming him … more or less.

  “Come on now, girl,” he started. “We’ve got to get moving.”

  “And where do you think you’re going?” came a voice from deeper in the catacombs.

  “Jacob?” he asked. “Jacob, is that you?”

  “You’re going to steal it, aren’t you?” it said.

  No, his brother was dead. When a man takes a bullet to the temple, he seldom comes back. Call it mental weakness or a shadow from the past but not flesh and blood. Still, the words were real enough. Gerald glanced down at the family cat. She was licking her paw, sitting by his ankle. Was she responsible for this? The air was hard to breathe. It choked him to breath.

  “I’m only taking what’s rightfully mine,” Gerald replied. “A shadow can’t stop me.”

  “Shadow?” Jacob shouted. “I am your brother!”

  A gust of air blew past him and sent a flood of moldy dust flying onto his face. The darkened hall filled with a necrotic residue that seeped into his pores. The cold was the least of his worries. He might die of something worse at this rate.

  “I beg you … calm yourself.”

  “Why should I?” Jacob replied. “A petty thief. Is this how you honor our father?”

  “You died believing he loved you,” Gerald said. “How lucky.”

  “Speak ill of him one more time and so help me ...”

  Gerald braced himself for the second wave, but his anticipation wavered. Nothing came. He stared through the hall for so long it took a few seconds for him to realize Nina was hissing. He tried to calm her by stroking her back. At first, her hairs stood stiffly, but a good petting put her in a more agreeable mood.

  “That’s a good girl,” he said. “You’ll like it when we find him. You like shiny things.”

  III – Off to War

  Gerald’s hands gripped the padlock of an old chest tucked snugly into a corner. Dirt caked the metal grooves and rust plagued the hinges. This was the end. Walls of corpses converged into a dead end. Here laid the husk of Matthew Cline, Uncle of Gerald and Jacob Cline. Brother and heir to Father’s fortune. He took it with him, in a sense. A dead man was preferable over living kin. Laughable. Really.

  “Now, what’s it going to take to get you open?” Gerald said.

  “You must want this badly, boy.”

  Gerald expected this one to talk. He could neither see the specter nor determine the sound’s location. However, he knew who was speaking. He familiarized himself with the voice of his uncle on many occasions, so mistaking it was the last thing he would do.

  “Leave me alone,” Gerald said, spitting on the ground.

  “I should say the same thing,” Matthew replied. “You don’t need this. You don’t need to do this.”

  “I’ll be damned if I’m to go through life without something of value.”

  “You’d rob the dead to satisfy your quest for self-worth? Even you can see the error in that.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I must have something. Anything.”

  Gerald fiddled with the mechanism. He needed either something sharp or something heavy and hard. He looked around for a tool he might be able to use. Burial instruments scarcely littered the area, but a hammer was present next to his uncle’s mangled flesh. It was old, but still in one piece. He grabbed hold of it and started hammering. Bit by bit, he could feel the lock giving way.

  “Your brother wouldn’t have …”

  “My brother was a fool, Uncle,” Gerald cut him off. “He died a fool as well.”

  “He died protecting your lands. How is that foolish, Gerald?”

  “Because Father could have said no. He could have kept him from war.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I know he didn’t try,” Gerald added.

  With a final smack, his hammer broke. However, in a stroke of chance, the lock did as well. The elbow snapped
off at the hinge, allowing him to remove it. However, as he reached to open the chest, Nina jumped over his shoulder and on to the top of it.

  “Come now, Nina,” he said. “Away with you.”

  She laid still and didn’t budge. Gerald tried shooing her off, but she clawed at his hands a few times. It wasn’t a playful attitude for a cat. Not at all. One swipe even broke the skin. Gerald drew his hand back and grimaced. This wasn’t going to end well for either of them.

  “I think she wants to tell you something,” Matthew explained.

  “What would a specter know?”

  “You don’t even see it, do you?” Matthew said. “Look closer.”

  Gerald took his uncle’s advice and peered around the burrow of bones. He caught glimpses of feet, hands and jaws all bound in old fabrics. Each shelf had a name engraved on it. Each of the dead had a story, but he recognized none of them. He looked around until thinking left his mind shot. What was he looking for? What was it?

  Gerald couldn’t smell the odor any longer. His nose had adjusted completely. Drooping down, exhausted, he noticed Nina’s paw resting on an engraved inscription. It was faint and worn with rust, but it was there. Gerald wiped off the dust and cobwebs that covered it.

  “What do we have here?” he said.

  IV – She Purred

  Gerald licked his lips as he prepared to read the inscription. The words appeared faded, and it was difficult to make out certain letters through the rust. However, the bulk of it was readable, especially the parts that mattered. He could fiddle with the rest down below in time. He placed his hand over the metallic text and voiced the words as he read them.

  “Here rest two men most precious to me,” Gerald read.

  What did it mean? Father held no love for any of his sons. The only man he spoke of was dear Matthew, Gerald’s uncle. Matthew was the one chosen to inherit the family riches. Matthew was the only one spoken of in the will. They all heard it. Gerald heard it.

  “You are lost, Nephew,” Matthew said.

  “I am not,” he replied.

  “Read further. Let the words soak deeply.”

  “My brother, Matthew and …” Gerald said with a pause.

  “Go on.”

  “And my youngest son, G…Gerald.”

  He couldn’t take it any longer. He thrust open the chest and sent Nina flying off. She hissed as Gerald glanced down into the piles of gold, precious gems and more. He needed to take one. Just one, but an ill feeling emerged as the specter continued.

  “All his riches, Nephew. He left them to rot with us.”

  “Impossible. I am alive!” Gerald shouted. He eyed the cat. “I am alive.”

  He looked for any sign of confirmation. Anything. Nina sat beside the open chest. She licked her lips and brushed her paw across her face. She did nothing further except gaze at him with two yellow eyes. Two still eyes as she purred.