“So what did you get?”

“Leave me alone Marjorie.” Reaching past her, I grabbed the milk. Hands on hips, she wasn’t going away that easily.

“But what the hell did you get?” She was near screaming now. “I need to know!”

I sighed, filled the glass halfway and looked at her. Her alcoholic nose, veiny and bulbous, was so red it was practically bursting. Ugh, how he hated her.

“He left me money.” I wasn’t going to tell her how much. Not yet anyway.

“Of course he did! That jackass!” She threw her purse down on the counter (my counter) and grabbed a wine glass. “Of course! He gave you the money! You! He hated you! I got books. Stinky, old, decrepit books! Jesus!” Without asking, she grabbed a bottle of red, fished thru the right drawer and found the corkscrew. I rolled my eyes at her.

“Marjorie,” I had already told her this, but why not waste more of my breath, “you can sell those books if you want. You have a first editions of Dickens and Tolkein.”

“Horse shit!” She had thrown back the first glass in two long swallows and was mounting an attack on the second. “I want to know! Why did you have to go into another room with that dirtbag lawyer? What are you hiding from me? I’m supposed…”

Fine. Fuck it. I cut her off. “Millions Marjorie. He left me millions.”

The glass smacked him on the side of his face. It was out of her hand so quick, he never saw it coming. Jesus. He looked at her, calculating how long it would take to get over there and grab her fat neck.

She stared him down. Seconds ticked by, recorded in wine drips from his chin to the tile. And maybe blood? Damn!

He pulled in a big, steadying breath. She watched him, eyes narrowed.

“There’s a catch.” She was already pulling down another glass and tipping the bottle.

“Oh yeah? What? You have to give it away to poor people or something?” She snorted in that disgusting way she had. Her nostrils suddenly swallowing her face.

“No.” He couldn’t stand to look at her. He looked down at the wine-blood puddle instead. “We have to get remarried and live together. Otherwise, it all goes to Toothy Ted.”

She laughed. It was a full on, head thrown back, hollering laugh. Her large frame shook with it. But when her eyes came back level with mine, they were flat and her smile was gone. As if it had never been there at all.

“Fantastic,” she said, her voice razor sharp. “I always loved your uncle Bert.”

I suppose it could be worse. I mean, I never imagined living with him at all, much less attempting to bathe with him sitting in the corner, but I guess the fact that he's dead makes it a little easier to handle. Still, I've made sure to rotate him nose first into the furthest wall from the tub since he decided to have his eyes sewn open. Creepy bastard.

Uncle Bert was always a bit of a prankster - I'll give him that. But this went a bit too far even for his standards. There are people out there - seriously, please listen to what I'm saying here because they do exist - there are people out there who have way too much fucking money and way too much time, and it gets out of hand.

In this case, there's Bert. Bert didn't earn a single dime of his thirty million bucks. No, he was born into it. Silver spoon spoiled, so to speak. My grandfather died and left it all to him, and now it was his turn. In turn, my turn.

He had no kids to torment, thank Christ, and only his high school buddy, Fred - who still eats his boogers and lights his farts on fire - would put up with his idiocy. My mother is twenty years his senior and hated his guts, so I was the only relative suitable to his fortune - I guess.

Bert died young - heart attack most likely caused by copious amounts of bacon and cocaine - and either he wrote his will as some marijuana-induced prank and meant to change it later, or he and Fred figured I wouldn't have the gall to go on with this nonsense. And if I forget to bring him to the potty with me? Well, Fred's watching over the security system, and they have a lawyer just itching to put an end to this little charade, so it's a no can do. Fred gets it all if I don't cadaver-sit 24/7.

Well, dear Uncle, I'm broke as hell, and if wheeling your taxidermied corpse around with me everywhere I go is the best you could come up with, I am truly disappointed in your separation from the outside middle class. If it means Fred keeps his fat Bologna fingers off your cash, and I don't have to work three jobs to pay the rent, then Uncle Bert - say hello to your new best friend.

Now off to the kitchen we go...it's lunch time.

I’ve never had any money left over after paying my bills. And now my crotchety Uncle Bert has gone and died, leaving me everything! But wouldn’t you know it – there’s one catch. On his deathbed, old Bertie whispered to me, “You’ll get everything but you have to agree to kill my ex-wife, Aunt Edwina! If you don’t keep your promise, I will know wherever I am and the consequences will be dire.”

Well, I didn’t really harbor bad feelings toward my aunt. She had always baked me cookies and handed me a twenty every now and then, ’just for fun.’ But what could I do. I reasoned that I needed the money more than I needed her. After all, what’s a broke fella to do?

I had to think this through carefully. What’s the point of being caught if I don’t get to spend the money? I knew that poison could usually be detected so that was out. If I strangled her, it would leave broken blood vessels in her eyes. If I shot her, maybe the gun could be traced to me. A knife wasn’t a bad idea but what if it didn’t finish the job or the knife blade broke or I got cuts on my hands.

I finally decided on a fire. Her little wooden house was crowded with knick knacks which would be very flammable. I knew I couldn’t use gas to ignite it because that would make it seem like it wasn’t an accident. It was getting colder so I asked old Auntie if she’d like to borrow my heating blanket which I was about to throw away since it had an electrical short. The last time I had used it, it had started smoldering and almost caught fire.

The next night, it was colder than a snowball in Hell. I slept fitfully as I waited for the news of the disastrous fire knowing I was her only family.

The fire department called to tell me about the terrible news the next morning. “It burned so hot that we can’t even find the body. She must have been completely incinerated,” they advised me.

Since there was no body to bury, I erected a nice plaque in her church in her memory. Next, I got on a plane to Argentina where I planned to spend the rest of my life, living the high life.

I have to tell you something but don’t tell anyone. Auntie Edwina was sitting next to me on the airplane. I just couldn’t bear to kill her after all those years of cookies and money slipped to her favorite nephew. She deserved to enjoy some of the money after suffering all those years with miserly Uncle Bert. But, unfortunately, we are not in Argentina, after all. The plane went down over the ocean two hours into the flight. And I swear I could hear old Bertie laughing, “I told you there would be consequences!”

He has left a map by solving which, I can win the amount mentioned in his will.

But I should do it within a week.

Being an archaeologist, a navigator and a good guide I was able to understand it to be an island's map.

I offered a few thousands and took with me a friend who was good in geology to find the place.

As soon as we found the place we guessed it to be a royal showpiece or a royal stamp.

We took with us a compass and a metal detector.

As soon as the alarm of the detector rang, we took our tools and started digging it out.

We found an old wooden box, we were very happy as we have won the challenge.

We went home had a good breakers and opened the box, Oh! we were shocked, we were shocked to see an old key in it.

The box also had a note stating

"Lay on attic facing north, may give some smoke but there it is not."

We went up and found an old pipe, it was made up of titanium and was designed very different.

We once again felt a little happy, but were confused as we saw a note in it.

It read," break me to win", we were shocked to see such a note in a hard metal like titanium.

We suddenly saw a hammer and used it.

It broke into two and fell a note stating "locker no.117".

We went to our uncle's bank and handed the will and the key, I signed the form and they opened the box.

We were shocked

.

.

.

.

.

.

uncle, he has pranked me with a fake will, he knew I can solve it so had kept my original will in the locker which stated that the property belonged to me and will go to charity on unusual death.

I was told of the stipulation after the rest of the family left, having received their inheritances. With all the trust funds he willed to my cousins, one would think he had no money left in his historically deep wallet. 

But such would not be the case this time around.

"And you, I know that my death was probably very hard for you. So, I am willing to make amends for the time I was unable to spend with you while I was still alive," it started. I groaned inwardly. He probably was just going to leave me some keepsake, useless today. 

"A sum of thirteen billion dollars in gold bullion and diamond ore from my now dry mines will be yours, provided you follow the instructions following,"

Thirteen billion. Wow!

"Throughout these tasks, please keep in mind that should you fail any one of them, your inheritence will go instead to my good friend, Fred,"

Wait, what?

I knew Fred. A nice enough guy, but socially inept. If there was something wrong with your appearance, he would let you know. And, he was a moocher. World class, if there's such thing for mooching. He is doubtless the best at it. A moocher like Fred has no right to inherit that much money. 

"Task one: You will be allotted five-hundred dollars for this task. Your job is to get onto national news. How you accomplish this is none of my concern. Just get on the screen for at least a few seconds and we'll consider it done,"

...

...

Well, nobody said this would be easy.

As a child, I told my uncle my greatest fear. And you know what he told me?

“Kid, you gotta face your fears. Otherwise, they’ll run your life.”

Well, now I have to face it, and it’s all thanks to Bert.

Let’s go back to a few months ago, when I first heard about the death of my Uncle Bert. He was a kind and sweet man, very loyal to those important to him, and always ready to listen. After hearing about his death, I felt that life was meaningless, since he had been such an important person in my own life. Then I heard about the will, and I realized that even beyond the grave, he was still guiding me.

My Uncle Bert was a very rich man, and I mean a very rich man. It was never clear how he earned all of this money, but it didn’t matter much to me. Probably because I just saw him as my uncle who I loved dearly, and nothing else besides that mattered to me. But anyways, in his will, he handed over all of this money to me… on one condition:

I had to travel to the highest point in every country, and take a picture of all that lay below me. No big deal, right?

Except for the fact that I am terrified of heights.

It’s hard for me to stand in tall office buildings and look out the windows. I feel my pulse quicken, my knees quake, and my head grows foggy, it actually gets bad enough that I need to hold onto something sold to comfort myself. Just thinking about this trip makes me dizzy.

I would consider not doing it, except that he threatened to give the money to his horrible friend Fred. Fred is what I would call a sleazy kind of guy, and that’s just me being nice. Uncle Bert knew how much I don’t like Fred, and it’s probably the reason why he made that threat in the first place.

Since I can’t let Fred have this money, now I’m deciding on how to prepare for my first destination: Denali, in Alaska. I know it’s not going to be easy by any means, but I have to do this. Not only because I dislike Fred, but because my uncle believed that this mission was important enough to include in his will. I told him how I always wanted to travel and see the world, but I was too scared, I didn’t have the money; some way or another I always had some sort of excuse ready.

Now I have to face both of my fears head on, and I gotta say, it’s the most alive I’ve felt, not just in these past few months, but in my entire life.

I knew, from a young age, that Uncle Bert liked to hold a grudge. However, I had never expected this.

"You're telling me," I said, rubbing my temples, "that if I wish to receive this inheritance, his friend Fred has to die?"

The lawyer shifted his glasses nervously and cleared his throat. "Well, if one puts it in simple terms, yes."

"God damn it!" I sighed, deeply. I needed a drink and I had already drank all the whiskey I hid in my pocket. "God damn it, Uncle Bert, the bastard."

I clenched my hands, feeling my anger rise in my throat. "Fucking shit. I just got out of fucking jail."

"If you wish, you can hire someone..." the squat little man offered.

I grunted. "Fuck that. I'll do the goddamn job myself."

Uncle Bert had always been the black sheep of the family. It’s no small secret; basically everyone in our family - from my mom to his mom - hated him. That’s probably why when he died last week, no one bothered to attend his wake or funeral except for me, the priest, and his one, creepy, and highly unlikable friend, Fred.

I never did understand how he and Fred became, or more importantly, remained friends, and I suppose I never will. And I was okay with forgetting about Fred and letting this mystery of the universe go unsolved until I got a voicemail from Tom Preston, senior partner at Preston and Wicks and my recently deceased uncle’s estate lawyer. Apparently, I had inherited something and I needed to see him right away.

I had just finished an eight-hour shift at McD0nalds when I got heard the message and I was pretty tired. Well, more like exhausted really, but the promise of an inheritance was too good to pass up. I worked a mediocre job for even less than mediocre pay and I could really use the money, so I called him back and set up an appointment for 3:00 pm next Thursday, on my day off, so I could drive an hour to Houston and then drive an hour back because this had to be done in person for some reason.

Now I can see why.

“…And those are the terms of the inheritance. Do you understand?” asked Tom Preston, the well-dressed man sitting across from me. He was an older gentleman, but imposing all the same. Is it because he’s a lawyer, or is it because I work at a McD0nalds? I’m not really sure; I guess that’s another mystery of the universe I probably won’t solve.

“I’m sorry; did you just say a hundred million dollars?” I asked in stunned disbelief.

“Yes,” he affirmed.

“A hundred million-”

“A hundred million dollars.”

“And if I don’t-”

“Then it all goes to Fred.”

“Hmm…” I pondered out loud as I weighed my options.

To be honest, I didn’t really like the condition my uncle set for his inheritance, but I really wanted the money and there was no way I was giving it all away to Fred, so I did as my uncle wanted and I joined the KKK.

Honestly, it’s not that bad. Everyone was really nice to me, and I even met a girl. We’re getting married next month.

Thanks Uncle Bert.

All this money, all of it. All it takes is one sacrifice. Was it worth it?

Uncle Ben told me he would give me all of his savings if I just did one thing, if I uprooted my life and continued his work. Not only would I get all of his money, I could make more.

If I turned it down, his friend Fred would do it. Fred would be happy to continue that work. But Fred would also get the money.

I needed the money, quite desperately. I was sick of living paycheck-to-paycheck, sick of constantly turning down my friends because I didn't have the funds to go on adventures.

Arriving at the old house, I shivered. It brought back memories I wasn't ready to face. Still, with suitcase in hand, I walked up the path.

"Remember the money, remember the money," I told myself quietly.

Unlocking the front door, it creaked open. Uncle Ben had redecorated. The foyer looked more proper, elegant.

Making my way through the house, I made note of where everything was and the changes made. The bathroom now had a proper tub, elegant and huge, rather than the skimpy shower that had been there previously.

Upon making it to my bedroom, I noticed even more changes. The room was fit for a queen, aimed towards a feminine sense of style. On the foot of the bed was a piece of paper that read: "Juliet, I hope you like the house. I had to redecorated to fit your style of living. Uncle Ben."

Reading the letter, I smiled. He redecorated the house, just for me. Part of me felt guilty about considering denying his request.

I dropped off my suitcase and continued to make my way through the house. Notes were scattered throughout, reminding me of various things.

Finally, I made my way to the basement door. I carefully went down the stairs and found the door to the lab. Sighing, I put in the code and pushed open the door. Lights flickered on immediately, revealing Uncle Ben's workstation. There a desk filled with books with papers. Bookshelves lined the walls.

"One more room," I said, mentally preparing myself.

I walked into the lab and was instantly greeted with cries. Animals and monsters of all forms were locked inside cages. Demons tied to chairs about devil traps. Mermaids and other various sea creatures locked in a large aquarium.

A layout of the creatures and a schedule was posted near the door. The mix between animals and monsters were uncanny.

"Alright," I sighed, putting on my lab coat. "Let's get to work."

My mind flooded with thoughts, some are stormy, some are dusty and some are rainy, but i try hard to keep the sunny ones for the people, that’s all they care about. and escorting the rest to highest mountains in the unseen world, world of bright sparks and depths of absolute.

My wings are tired, They flew a miles away from the east borders of the limited and labled world, to the west borders of the lands of opportunities and white snow.

They were stormy and messy, powerful!, No_man to break it down, they were free by nature, but freedom wasn’t enough.

And what freedom has to offer in dusty clouds?.

the rain has come and it’s time to put an end to these dusty clouds, rains are good they settled down the dust and turned them into mud.

Its difficult to walk over mud, it’s slippery and slimy, but wings can fly and vision seemed clear. let’s head to the skies and touch the starts.

Oh!, here we are from the east to the west, the air here is refreshing, I hear the birds singing on the trees and the flowers are beautiful, I want to pick one , but which one should I pick? they are in different colors and shapes, but all of them smells the same. nah, I’m too honest, too loyal to be betrayer I’ll stick around with my thorny flower, it’s thorns got under my skin and its hard to take them out without harm and I wanted no harm.

The birds stopped singing the air ran out of winds became toxic to my thoughts and soon they will be infeted. I knew where the sunny paradise is, where the fresh air, happy birds and the trees looking up towards the skies. One of my wings was broken, but I’ll struggle and fly hard to get there.

“Never Give Up, You Will Eventually Find Your Path”

Creative Chaos