The Arbitrator

The Whitlock family gathered in the great hall of Eleanor Whitlock’s decaying mansion, their voices bouncing off the walls like clashing cymbals. The argument was as old as the family itself: who deserved what? Who had sacrificed more? Who truly loved Eleanor?

Marion, Eleanor’s eldest daughter, slammed her hands on the dining table. "Mother wanted me to have the house! I was the one who took care of her in her final days!"

"You mean you drained her accounts while you pretended to care," retorted her brother, Victor. "If anyone deserves this place, it’s me! I kept the business afloat!"

"You mean your shady dealings," sniped Charlotte, the youngest sibling, swirling her wine. "If Mother were alive, she’d be mortified by the way you’ve tarnished the family name."

"Enough!" barked Mr. Hargrove, the family lawyer, his face lined with exasperation. "Eleanor anticipated this. That’s why she left... instructions."

The room fell silent as Mr. Hargrove produced a sealed envelope, its wax seal bearing Eleanor’s crest. He opened it with trembling fingers and read aloud:

"Should the family fail to come to a civil agreement, a mediator has been arranged to resolve the matter. What is settled by them is final."

Before anyone could protest, the heavy oak doors creaked open. A tall, gaunt figure entered, his face a mask of bone-pale skin and sunken eyes. He wore a crisp black suit and carried a slender cane.

"Good evening," he said, his voice smooth as silk yet carrying an intriguing hint of mystery. "I am Mr. Calyx, your mediator." The air grew heavy as he approached the table. No one moved. "Let us begin."

Mr. Calyx wasted no time. He made each sibling state their claim to the inheritance, listening with an unsettling calm. When tempers flared, he silenced them with a single glance.

"You’ve all had your say," he finally announced. "Now, the real work begins. To reach an agreement, I must first uncover the truth."

"Truth?" Victor scoffed. "What does truth have to do with this?"

"Everything," Calyx replied, his thin lips curling into a cold smile. "And the house agrees."

A loud thud echoed from the corridor, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut. The siblings exchanged uneasy glances.

"What was that?" Marion whispered.

"Only a warning," Calyx said. "This house has its own rules. You will follow them, or it will... intervene."

Charlotte laughed nervously. "This is ridiculous. I don’t care who hired you, you can’t—" She stopped mid-sentence as her wine glass shattered in her hand. Blood dripped onto the table.

"You were saying?" Calyx asked, his gaze fixed on her.

The first task was for each sibling to confess their greatest betrayal of Eleanor. Marion went first, her voice trembling. "I... I forged her signature on some checks. I needed the money."

Victor followed; his tone defiant. "I sold off parts of the company without telling her. But it was to keep us afloat!"

Charlotte hesitated, but the house groaned ominously. "Fine!" she snapped. "I lied about visiting her. I paid a nurse to pretend I was there."

"Good," Calyx said, his tone approving. "Truth is the first step toward resolution. But it is not enough."

The next task was physical. Calyx led them to the basement, where the air was damp and smelled of mildew. In the center of the room was a large, dirt-filled box. "Dig," he instructed.

The siblings protested, but the house groaned again, louder this time. Reluctantly, they grabbed the shovels provided and began to dig. Minutes stretched into an hour before Marion’s shovel hit something hard. It was a small, ornate chest. Calyx opened it to reveal Eleanor’s diary. "This will reveal much," he said, flipping through the pages. He read aloud a passage where Eleanor expressed her disappointment in each of them. Her words cut deep, bringing tears to Marion’s eyes and making Victor clench his fists. "It seems your mother saw through you all," Calyx said. "But she still hoped you would redeem yourselves. Let us see if you can."

The final task was the most harrowing. Calyx demanded they each give up something precious—a symbol of their love for Eleanor.

Marion offered her pearl necklace; a family heirloom Eleanor had given her. Victor hesitated before placing a watch on the table, one his mother had gifted him when he took over the business. Charlotte threw down a locket with a photo of Eleanor inside, her face twisted with resentment.

Calyx inspected the items before nodding. "You have done well. But one last decision remains." He turned to the siblings; his eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. "Only one of you can inherit this house. The others must leave, forever disinherited. You must choose who stays."

The siblings erupted into chaos, their voices overlapping.

"Why should you get it?"

"You’ve done nothing but take!"

"Mother wouldn’t have wanted this!"

Calyx raised a hand, and the room fell silent. "If you cannot choose," he said, "the house will decide." As the clock struck midnight, the house began to quake. Walls shifted, the floor buckled, and the air grew thick with the scent of decay.

"Wait!" Marion cried. "We’ll choose!"

She turned to her siblings, desperation in her eyes. "Please, I’ve given up everything for this family. Let me have it."

"No!" Victor shouted. "You’ve done nothing but take!"

Charlotte stepped forward; her voice cold. "Enough. Let the house decide."

Calyx smiled. "So be it."

The room darkened, and a chilling wind swept through. One by one, the siblings screamed as shadows engulfed them, pulling them into the floor. When the room stilled, only Marion remained, trembling.

"You were chosen," Calyx said. "The house is yours. But be warned—it does not forgive."

As dawn broke, Marion stood alone in the great hall. The house was silent, but she could feel its presence, watching, waiting. She clutched the locket Charlotte had dropped, her hands trembling.

The inheritance was hers, but at what cost?

Outside, Calyx vanished into the mist, his work done—for now.