2014 Prompt Responses - 8. Prompt 310

The Three Brothers

Once upon a time there lived three brothers. The brothers led disparate lives. One brother lived in the desert southwest in an adobe hut. The second brother lived in a log cabin in the woods of New England; although he was currently living out of a tent due to the river near his cabin running high. The third brother lived in a brownstone in New York City.

The brothers’ parents had recently passed away in a fiery car crash, leaving the siblings a considerable inheritance to split. The parents’ death was welcome news to their lawyer. He had an addiction to high-stakes gambling and owed a significant amount of money to some rather shady individuals. As executor of the estate, he was privy to its value, and dollar signs flashed in his greedy eyes. He made a few phone calls, and then sat back in his chair with a smug grin on his face. Now all he had to do was wait.

The first brother, Peter, was at home eating his customary breakfast of a bowl of cereal when he heard someone knocking on his door. He looked out the window to see a gray-haired man standing in front of his door. The man saw Peter peek through the window and grinned predatorily. “Let me in, Peter. I have news regarding your inheritance.”

Peter was a simple, but cautious sort and he didn’t like the look of the man standing outside his door. He decided not to answer. The man knew that Peter was inside and started getting frustrated. He had thought this would be a quick, easy job. “Let me in, Peter!” He growled. “This is news you’re going to want to hear.”

Peter stroked his chin as he thought of a response. He figured that Pierre would know what to do, so he called the third brother. Pierre’s advice was simple. Tell the man to go away and then call the lawyer.

The gray-haired man was growing increasingly impatient. He pounded on the door. “Let me in, NOW!”

Peter didn’t.

The man decided he’d have to do this the hard way. He left, much to Peter’s relief, only to return under cover of darkness. He growled as he remembered the swine’s insolence, and then smiled darkly as his face was momentarily illuminated by the flash of his lighter. He lit the fuse on the Molotov cocktail. The flame from the fuse allowed Peter a brief glimpse of a wolf tattoo on the man’s wrist before the bomb blew through the window and shattered at his feet. The fire department did not make it in time to save either Peter or his adobe hut.

The lawyer smiled upon hearing the news of Peter’s death. He was executor of all the brothers’ wills and the lawyer’s fee would be enough to keep his creditors temporarily at bay.

Paul and Pierre were saddened to learn of their brother’s death. Peter was a solitary man with no other family, so his estate was split between his remaining brothers.

Paul was fishing in the now-receded river beside his log cabin. He was hoping to catch a fish for his lunch. He was thinking of his brother and recent inheritances. Even though they weren’t close, he would much rather have his brother alive than the money. He was shaken from his musings by the sound of someone knocking on his cabin door. He was thankful he was fishing in a secluded spot. He never received visitors. He crept to the edge of the covert and observed the gray-haired man who was now pounding on his door.

“Let me in, Paul! I have news of your inheritance!”

Paul was a very savvy man with little trust in humankind. He stroked his beard as he contemplated his next move. The gray-haired man prowled around the cabin, looking for a way in. Paul noticed the revolver in the man’s hand and decided he’d be better off far away from his refuge in the woods. He was right. His cabin was blown to bits later that night.

The lawyer gnashed his teeth and cursed. The man he knew as ‘the Wolf’ had never failed him before. His creditors were growing increasingly impatient with the small amounts he had been able to repay. He needed the brothers’ money desperately.

Pierre was shocked when Paul showed up at his door. Paul was a hermit with little tolerance for other people. Something was seriously amiss for him to be anywhere near the city. When Paul relayed the actions of the gray-haired man, Pierre immediately recalled his conversation with Peter. He knew that something was seriously wrong, but didn’t know what or why.

The two brothers’ dinner was interrupted by insistent knocking at the front door. Pierre looked through the peephole and saw a gray-haired man standing there impatiently. “Let me in, Pierre. I know you’ve heard about your brothers’ misfortunes. Let me in and you won’t suffer the same fate. Deny me, and I’ll blow your house sky high!”

Pierre looked at Paul as an idea started to form in his head. He grinned at his brother and quickly informed him of his plan.

The knocking on the door ceased, and the gray-haired man was nowhere to be seen.

Pierre and Paul settled down in the living room to enjoy their dessert. Pierre thought that s’mores would be a nice treat. The brothers enjoyed a companionable silence as they roasted their marshmallows in the freshly-lit fire.

It wasn’t long before the fire was reduced to cinders and the brothers were ready to call it a night.

Shortly after that, faint footsteps could be heard on the roof. A few minutes later, feet blackened by soot appeared at the bottom of the chimney and settled on the remaining coals. The gray-haired man never saw either brother as they doused him with gasoline and he immolated in the same agony that Peter had.

The lawyer paled when he saw the news report of the apparent burglar who had met such a horrific end in a brownstone in New York. He knew his creditors would not afford him any more time. He was right.