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Today's story was started by @gaby-crb and @calluna

The Devisal of Mr. Dankworth

The familiar ping jerked through my morning haze, the signal of a new email arriving in my inbox, blared from my laptop. I hastily tapped at the volume. My fingers circled around the warm mug in my hand, the hot brush of steam warning me not to take a sip yet. I checked the screen, 16 new emails already this morning. Working from home had seemed so much easier, I never liked the office, or being out on the road, at least at home I had my own brand of coffee, and my cat Neelix, but the emails never stopped.

I cleared through the top 10 as spam, another 5 were easily filed, the last however caught my attention. My eyes focused on the sender name, I hastily placed my mug on the table and clicked the email. The sound of the news playing on the TV melted into the background, even the smell of my burning toast didn't interrupt my focus.

Good day,

My name is Michael Kent, I am the personal attorney and sole executor to my late client, Mr Ian Dankworth, who shares the same surname with you.

After the death of my client, in an automobile incident, in the year 2007, the bank contacted me to provide his next of kin to inherit his fortune, totaling Thirty Seven Million Bruvna ($37,000,000.00) according to the existing bank records.

I have written several letters to his country embassy with the intent of locating any of his immediate or extended family who will stand as the next of kin and all my efforts has been to no avail.

I have received official letters from the board of directors of the holding bank in the last few weeks suggesting a likely precedent for confiscation of his abandoned personal assets in line with existing laws, therefore I have been issued a 30 working days ultimatum to provide his next of kin or forfeit the deposit.

From my professional experience I can use any and all legal means available to re-profile and present you as the next of kin to my deceased client since you share his surname, this would enable you put a claim to the funds on our behalf.

Please kindly indicate your interest by responding to this email so we can discuss further.

Yours sincerely,
Barr. Michael Kent

I glanced at the scuffed bag by the door, I had known Mr Kent would contact me eventually. I was the last person in the country with the surname Dankworth. As my eyes read over the email again, I laughed to myself, this had been easier than I initially thought.

Neelix stalked past the black bag, rubbing up against it, he then stopped and pulled out his claws, pulling at the plastic material.

I stood up fast in an attempt to scare him, knocking my coffee over my laptop in the process. I swore and grabbed at some tissues, watching as the black liquid slowly absorbed. I would forever be cleaning up my own mess.

My ending to the story:

Neelix had retreated to his favorite spot on the windowsill to lick his paws and watch me scramble to save my laptop. The screen had went black and turning it upside down had been useless, the coffee absorbed and the damage done. Shit! What an inopportune time, just when I’d finally received the notice. Oh well, soon I’d be able to afford the best laptop.

After years of manipulations, my plan was finally coming to fruition. The bag in the corner was my constant reminder of the events leading to this final stage of my revenge.

My heart ached with humiliation remembering the summer of my Grand Tour of EuroNation. Backpacking with friends we often took odd jobs in the vineyards in exchange for a hot meal. When we happened upon Dankwork Vineyards one weary day, I hoped my name being Dankworth would get us preferential treatment.

Dankwork greeted us with a surly snarl, “Be gone all of you beggars thinking to prey upon my fortune for a meal. Off my property before I have you removed.”

I stepped forward and smiled engagingly. “But sir, I came here specifically to meet you. My name is Lacy Dankwork, from the Americas, and perhaps we are related.”

“Related?” he practically roared. “I am certainly not related to a common street urchin such as you. My ancestors can be traced back to the Queen, and you are obviously not of royal descent.” He looked down his nose at us and turned back inside, slamming the door behind him.

I had turned red-faced back to the group to see smirks at my discomfort. At that moment the plot for revenge was hatched. I sent the others on without me and spent the next week holed up in an unused ice house honing my plan.

The car accident that claimed Ian Dankworth’s life was the talk of the countryside. I stayed long enough to attend his funeral and make certain there were no surviving heirs. After that, it was a matter of waiting for his executor to find me.

I sent a reply to attorney Michael Kent, accepting his offer to be presented as the heir to Dankworth’s estate. Neelix left his spot on the windowsill and began rubbing himself against my legs in anticipation of his morning treat. I pushed him away and walked to the bag sitting in the corner. It was time to let it go. With the bag in front of me on the table I removed the gold pocket watch engraved with the initials I.D. on the back. I had liberated it from the corpse’s breast pocket shortly before the casket closed. This was my “proof” that I was related to old Ian. I would say that I had found it with my mother’s things when she passed away, but had never known its history.

Reverently, I took out the other item remaining in the bag - the piece of brake line I had removed from the Bently that fateful morning. Now that the plan had came full circle and I was about to receive my inheritance, I had no need for this reminder. Into the trash it went, along with my coffee soaked laptop. It was time for a new beginning.

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[credit@EdibleCthulhu]