The Inheritance

This was a creative short story I did earlier this year for English. It is Gothic genre and warning: it does have pretty actual details of semi intense gore. There is death and blood right at the beginning and all the way through. It only took up one A4 page, so it isn't that long. It has already been submitted to the exam board but I'd still wouldn't mind feedback as I enjoyed working on it and wouldn't mind continuing writing Gothic stories as a hobby.

Lastly before I copy/paste it in the next post, please read the warning again. That way I've got any reader's attention twice at the same warning, so no one can complain if they find it to intense, you should of read the warning twice now, and if you haven't it is not my fault but your own.

Small red droplets splashed as "the chief" rinsed his wrists before the operation. Water ran red into the drain as it mixed with the blood seeping quickly from his wrists. His jacket was as black as his back combed shoulder length hair. With the sleeves rolled up no stains soaked into his clothes, rather the blood stained water dried onto his skin like hot candle wax. As the bleeding slowed the tap was turned off and he licked the last of the blood from his wrists. It was now that the sound of anguish moaning could be heard from the adjacent room from the other side of the closed door, moaning of pain and exhaustion. He picked up the sickle from the sink with his right hand and walked towards the door. The moans turned to whimpers as his heavy boots echoed around the tile floor of the dimly lit room with a single flickering light, making visible a blood stained table rack in the centre of the room.

In the family library two of the three sisters were reading beside each other on an eastern patterned lounge chair. It was an ordinary sized room, although the extra high ceiling was accompanied by the bookshelves around the walls. There was not even the ticking of a clock in the room dimly lit by lamps attached to the walls. All the sisters wore black lolita, with hair ribbons and knee high laced boots. One had long black hair while the other long blonde hair. They never let themselves be interrupted as the escaped time passed by throughout this too calm a night.

In one of the few play rooms, three of the seven brothers were playing cards around a small rectangular table. The wooden floor continuously creaked as they stamped their feet in manic laughter. The room was smaller than the library, this play room was filled with shelved dolls arranged in numerous categories along each shelf level. Everything else was pushed off to the walls of the room except a single table lamp for the card game.
These brothers were two of the youngest children aged seven and ten, and the middle brother was thirteen. They were laughing at one thing only, the nails impaled through the right hand of the oldest, losing the malign card game and receiving his punishment. Blood splatter covered the table, staining the cards placed on the table.

All good things have have to come to unfortunate end, the oldest couldn't contain his enjoyment any more. A sinister smile played along with his feelings as he snatched the hammer from the youngest before another nail could be struck into his mutilated hand. Staring directly at the oldest in confusion was the wrong thing to do as the claw of the hammer burst through his left eye. The ten year old continued laughing until the ball of the hammer struck his head twice. Blood exploded as the skull imploded, the laughter turning into the frightened screams of a frightened child.

The third sister was twelve, she happily slithered along the long and dark hallway, decorated with a red pattered carpet and dark walls covered by portraits of the most morbid of characters. She became cunningly silent as she neared the library, opening the single door carefully not to disturb the reading. There was no change of atmosphere between the hallway and library, although the younger sister became more sincere in her movement.

Respected by the other two sisters they paid little attention to her and they allowed her to continue on her own business she in the silent library. A grave mistake to make on this unnatural night. A few minutes passed as the youngest acted as she normally did, pretending to look through the books in her own way. The bookshelves were partly covered by dust, a spider crossed onto the arm of the youngest sister. A smirk slid across her face, smirk that was to stay until she'd had her fun. Silent, so silent, appearing behind the two older sisters, she did not wait for them to realise as she drew two single-bullet pistols and fired. A hole in the back of the head for each of them. The mouth of the blonde opened, as though wanting to make a noise, both folded onto their laps, staining their books and legs red, a long awaited desire and fantasy of the youngest.

"the chief" was already finished. He placed the sickle which had been so successful in tearing his younger brother apart back into the sink. From his waist down he was covered in wet blood, but strangely from the waist up he appeared perfectly clean. The middle brother had no choice but to eat slowly too after sawing through his much mutilated hand. The only remaining sister played lazily with her food before she lifted the flesh to her still her smirking lips. Once a year this gruesome family ritual came and went as the thirteen children aim to become the sole inheritor of the family mansion and estate. Ten are gone already.

What fresh hell is this?

Hi! I'm Sato, patron saint of the Creative Realm, and thanks for posting this, sasha-jen. Within the first few words of your tale, here, I was drawn in physically closer to my computer. You have a very strong, fine, command of language on all its fronts - not just in being able to formulate sentences, but being able to set a scene with pieces in such a way that all you have to do is describe the area, and we know the story.

My only suggestion is this - let us soak in the environment a bit more! Adding more line breaks to build up for suspense would draw out the experience a little longer. There's just one decent-sized paragraph after another. Shaping it for more variety would bring a more chilling conclusion, I feel.

In any case, thank you for posting! I enjoyed reading it as much as you enjoyed writing it, no doubt.

Thanks for the kind words.

I suppose you're right with the paragraphs, I've never thought about the length of the paragraphs when I was writing this. So what you're saying is prolonging through more line breaks would add to the suspense, making it even more enjoyable to read? Rather than the blocks of paragraphs I've written in.