Journals of a Psychopath

206
  0%
  0

Tags

Smithson, Clarkson's son is on the way to being very rich, brutal and cruel.

The Homestead

Rhea ran to me and it looked as though the old Rheanna was back for a moment. Flinging her arms around me, I saw Caldwell prominent in an open casket, it revealed his austere figure, and Caldwell’s presence permeated the homestead, Rhea held me tight.
      “Father has made known his wishes in the Will.”
I had already read the Will, Caldwell bequeathed everything to Rheanna. When she passed away, it would revert to Smithson, until then, Smithson was awarded a trust fund.

The Lawyer’s Office

My son and Rhea sat on high backed chairs, the carvings on the back of the seats intricate.
      “You are set for life and the wishes of Caldwell are to lie in the homestead for two days prior to burial.”
Rheanna already adhered to his wish from respect I did not approve.
      “Why does she inherit the farmstead?” Smithson asked.
      “Your mother is heir and it will revert to you after her death,” the lawyer replied.

The Farmstead

      “You failed to stop me the Hammond monies are more or less ours and the homestead,” I said to Caldwell’s corpse.
Elspeth prolonged her duties, she sobbed into a hanky at regular intervals, and the food she prepared was enough to feed the hungry mourners congregating to pay tribute to the founder of Caldwell Enterprises.
Smithson was an agreeable host and folk, were gracious around him. His life was different to mine, Smithson would never need to worry pertaining to cash, and the calling would be even harder to detect than mine was. Wobbling in her high heels and for once Rhea was sober. Smithson was popular the wealthy are, he was a good catch, several young women caught his eye, and flirted with him, the mission was compromised, I intended to keep Smithson on the approved path. He observed me uneasily, the high life was getting its claws into him and the praise marked him, the repercussion he mused on the merits of the finer life.
      “It is necessary to continue the punishment, but I have all I need can you perform without me?”
Pushing Smithson into the yard to the side, roping his hands, I stuffed a gag into Smithson’s mouth the mourners in the yard did not appear to notice.

Global Scriggler.DomainModel.Publication.Visibility
There's more where that came from!