Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay
Legend has it that the Portrait of a Lady brought a creeping sense of disquiet to whichever home it found itself in, moreso when it involved couples who were so in love with each other to the point of destruction—With it, came a curse far worse than what the Hope Diamond was said to carry.
However, unlike the infamous jewel that found its way into a museum, the accursed painting became lost to time, never to be seen by another living soul lest they uncover the true secrets that lay within the Lady's hands—a code that leads to insurmountable wealth that no mortal should ever be able to get their hands on.
I scoffed as if I wasn't the little bit impressed by my father's criminal acts, but inwardly, I was keeping the ghosts of my past at bay—A family massacre wasn't exactly a normal sight to expose your long lost child to, unless he never considered me his own flesh and blood and only used me as an excuse to “keep the family business running”.
The door suddenly opening with a loud bang, almost made me jump right out of my skin, but I managed to calm my racing heart at seeing who it was, “Took you long enough.” I didn't stop the sneer that formed on my face as I watched Lee arrogantly drag his weight pass by me as he made way for the wide corridors that made up my father's villa, the clothed painting under his arm.
“Yeah well, other than that two-bit psychic friend yours, I had to dodge all sorts of annoying questions from the old hag!” He grumbled, not once slowing down as I kept up with his pace.
“She's still your mom.” My muttered words made Lee abruptly stop in his tracks. Cautiously, I made my way pass him, but not be before hearing him say, “She ain't nobody. What I am now, I learned all from your father.”
I tuned back then, making sure to look him dead in the eyes as I said, “So you're alright with doing all the dirty work while he gets all the dime?”
The split-second glint in his eyes was enough of an answer for me just before we heard the soft clacking footsteps that would come from a pair of fine oxfords, “There you two are, I was just about to make a toast without you.”
Links:
The Ink Well Weekly Fiction Prompt #9 - Legend
Author's note: Where it all began... My InkWell Story Map. It all began in The Ink Well Fast and Furious Festival and continues on The Ink Well Weekly Fiction Prompt. The featured painting Portrait of a Lady sits at the National Museum. Reference to it in the story is purely fictional. The lockdown continues on here. What is daunting is the lack of exit strategy from the government. It does seem we will be experiencing it for a long while.
This is a beautiful story.
It seems i would have to follow your Inkwell story map to get the full gist.
I look forward to it.
Sinister. That is the overriding mood in this story.
< the soft clacking footsteps that would come from a pair of fine oxfords
An ominous intrusion into the conspiratorial conversation. And the seemingly benign comment,
Carries the weight of impending danger. There is the sense that the characters are in the grip of something beyond their understanding and will be swept away by forces not yet clear to them.
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