Inheritance

Evelyn Carmichael sat in her small, dimly lit apartment in the heart of the city, the glow of the evening sun barely filtering through the blinds. She stared at the letter in her hands, its weight far greater than the thin paper should have allowed. The words on the page seemed almost unreal, as if they existed in another world—one that didn’t belong to her. Her fingers trembled as she read it again.

Dear Miss Carmichael,

We are writing to inform you that you have inherited the estate of your late great-uncle, Sebastian Carmichael, who passed away on the 14th of last month. His will stipulates that you are the sole beneficiary of his property, a mansion located in the remote Blackwood Hills, approximately thirty miles north of the nearest town.

The estate is yours to claim immediately. Please find enclosed the deed to the mansion and further instructions for your arrival. It is important to note that the house has been uninhabited for many years, and it may require some maintenance. However, we believe you will find it to be a valuable asset.

Should you decide not to accept the inheritance, please contact us by the 31st of this month.

Regards,

Blackwood & Sons Legal Firm

Evelyn set the letter down, her heart racing. She didn’t know this great-uncle, Sebastian, and had never heard of the mansion in Blackwood Hills. The only relatives she’d ever known were her parents, both of whom had died in a tragic accident years ago. After their death, her life had been one of solitude and loss, the kind of life where even the most mundane things felt like burdens.

But now, this. An inheritance. A mansion. Was it some kind of mistake?

She glanced at the deed, her eyes scanning the elegant handwriting, the legal language that made the situation feel too real. The mansion—his mansion—had been untouched for years, and yet, it was being passed on to her. She could already feel the weight of it, a sense of responsibility that came from nowhere.

Her gaze turned to the window. The city was alive outside, but she felt disconnected from it, as if something had pulled her away from her reality, thrusting her into this strange, unknown future. It had been months since she had felt anything other than numbness, and now, her heart was racing.

Maybe she was being foolish, but the thought of leaving behind her life here, of escaping the weight of memories and grief, seemed too tempting to ignore. The mansion could be a fresh start—somewhere she could heal, perhaps even find a sense of peace.

Her fingers brushed over the corner of the letter as she made her decision. She would go.

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The Journey Begins

Three days later, Evelyn found herself driving through the winding roads of Blackwood Hills, the air thick with mist, the trees towering like sentinels on either side. The mansion was a good hour away from the nearest village, and the landscape grew more and more remote as she drove.

The old car she had borrowed from a friend sputtered and groaned, its engine struggling against the incline. Evelyn’s mind raced with thoughts of the mansion. What would it be like? How would it feel to stand in the rooms where her great-uncle had spent his final years? The mansion could be a grand estate, or it could be a decaying ruin—she had no way of knowing.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the car crested a hill, and the mansion came into view.

The house was massive, even from a distance. Its stone walls were weathered, and its high windows seemed to watch her as she approached. The mansion sat alone, isolated at the edge of the hills, the kind of place that felt like it belonged to another time. Ivy snaked up the stone, and a faint sense of decay hung in the air.

Evelyn parked her car in front of the large iron gates, the sight of the mansion feeling like an intrusion on a world she didn’t understand. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. The mansion’s looming presence made her feel small, like a child standing in the shadow of something far too large for her to comprehend.

As she stepped out of the car, a cold breeze brushed against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. She felt a strange heaviness in the air, as if the very earth around her was holding its breath. The trees rustled, their branches reaching out like fingers, as though trying to draw her into the darkness.

She turned toward the gate, her heart pounding. A voice inside her warned her to turn back, to leave this place and never return. But curiosity—and something deeper, more inexplicable—drove her forward. She pushed open the gate, its iron hinges creaking in protest, and walked toward the mansion.

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Nathaniel Cross

As Evelyn reached the grand front steps, she noticed a figure standing at the doorway. A man, tall and imposing, his dark eyes fixed on her with an unreadable expression. His hair was dark, slightly tousled by the wind, and he wore a long coat, though the air was not particularly cold.

“You must be Miss Carmichael,” he said, his voice low and smooth, carrying an edge of something she couldn’t place.

Evelyn hesitated, taking a step back. “Yes, I am. And you are...?”

“I am Nathaniel Cross,” he replied, his gaze never wavering from hers. “I take care of the property. I... advise you to reconsider.”

Evelyn frowned. “Reconsider?”

“The house,” Nathaniel continued, his eyes narrowing. “It’s not what you think. I would recommend you leave.”

Evelyn shook her head, her curiosity only growing. “I can’t just leave. I’ve inherited this place. I need to see it for myself.”

Nathaniel’s lips tightened, and for a brief moment, Evelyn thought she saw something flicker in his eyes—something that looked like fear. But then it was gone, replaced by that same unreadable expression.

“I can’t stop you,” he said, his voice colder now. “But you should know—it’s not just a house. There are things here... things that should never have been brought to light.”

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