The Family Legacy

After our parents' funeral, my brother and I returned to the crumbling ancestral home we thought we had escaped. We were the last of the line, the final inheritors of a name that was once synonymous with power and now meant nothing. Sorting through the dusty relics of our family's past, we found our great-grandfather's journal. In it, he detailed not just their wealth, but their secret: a pact made generations ago to keep the bloodline pure. It was a legacy of sin, passed down in whispers and hidden in plain sight. As we read the forbidden words, the oppressive atmosphere of the house seemed to close in around us. The grief and isolation twisted into something else—a dark, shared understanding. We were bound by the same blood, the same curse. And in the dead of night, in the house that had birthed our family, we decided to honor its legacy in the most unforgivable way.