The Heir's Dominance

"Wow, that’s brilliant, Harry! Just an ordinary accounts clerk, and suddenly you’ve inherited a house this big."

Harry’s footsteps came to a halt at the threshold of an old, carved wooden door with an arched top. The air was cold and musty, and dust was everywhere as they entered.

Next to him was Jack, his colleague from the office. He had kindly given him a lift in his car. Jack gazed at the interior of the building with a look of amazement on his face.

“I don’t think you can really call this a house,” replied Harry, with a look of disgust.

“Harry, this isn’t just any old house! Look… there are loads of antiques in here.”

“Of course there are! My grandmother’s an antique dealer,” replied Harry flatly. He waved his hand, trying to brush away the fine dust floating in the air as he stepped inside.

Harry let out a long sigh. He took off his black-framed glasses, wiped the lenses with the hem of his still-neat office shirt, then put them back on.

“My grandmother’s just a collector of old, outdated stuff. Today I just want to make a list of the items that might still have some resale value, then next week I’ll call an estate agent. That’s it.”

“Are you sure you want to sell it all? It’d be such a shame to sell it all off. If you sold them individually, they’d be worth a fortune,” Jack whispered softly, his eyes darting wildly around the dimly lit room.

“Who on earth would want to buy useless stuff these days!”

Harry’s grandmother had passed away two weeks ago due to old age. She had left behind a two-storey building on the corner of the street. The building was now Harry’s sole inheritance.

“It’s up to you, then. I’ll wait in the car, shall I? This place’s giving me the creeps,” said Jack quickly before hurrying back outside and slamming the front door shut.

Harry shook his head. He took out his mobile, switched on the torch function, then began to scan the glass display case, which was covered in a thick layer of dust.

Inside the display case, old objects lay piled up, neglected. A hand mirror with a blackened silver frame, several cracked ceramic cups adorned with dragon motifs, and even a wooden statue in the shape of a faceless figure.

The further Harry ventured into the shop, the quieter it became. The din of traffic from the main road outside suddenly faded, as if the building’s wooden walls were muffling all the hustle and bustle of the street.

Until his steps came to a halt in front of a thick wooden door in the darkest corner of the shop. The door led to the back storeroom.

Hanging from the door handle was an old iron padlock. It was about the size of an adult’s palm. The padlock was jet black, with intricate carvings in the form of circular knots that resembled ancient letters.

“What a strange padlock…” muttered Harry.

His mobile phone shone a light directly onto the surface of the padlock. There was no keyhole to be seen. It was completely smooth. His curiosity got the better of his resolve not to touch anything. Harry stretched out his right hand. He brushed away the dust covering the engravings on the padlock’s surface.

Crrrk!

“Ouch!”

Harry pulled his hand back. The edges of the padlock’s engravings, which had previously seemed blunt, suddenly felt as sharp as a razor blade. Fresh, deep red blood dripped from the tip of his index finger and fell directly onto the engraving of the iron padlock’s knot.

Harry felt the temperature in the room drop dramatically, so much so that his breath condensed in the air.

The blood dripping onto the padlock did not run down; instead, it was completely absorbed by the old iron, as if the lifeless object were parched.

The surface of the padlock shook violently. The intricate carvings on it suddenly glowed with a fiery, blood-red light.

CLACK!

The padlock opened of its own accord. But instead of falling to the floor, the iron padlock detached from the door and floated in the air!

“What on earth is this…” Harry took a few steps back, his heart pounding erratically. His rational mind struggled to find a logical explanation—perhaps a magnet trick? A shadow trick?

But his own eyes witnessed the padlock shrinking dramatically until it was no bigger than a thumb. The padlock floated towards Harry.

Before Harry could even scream, the iron chain was wrapped round his neck. The small padlock was securely fastened just above his collarbone.

“Hey! Let me go!” Harry was in a state of utter panic. His fingers tugged at the iron chain around his neck with all his might, but it was as cold as ice and incredibly sturdy, as if it had fused with his skin.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. What a racket. The young lot these days really have no manners.”

Harry froze. The voice wasn’t coming from inside the room. It was right next to his left ear. It was a man’s voice—deep, cold and laced with contempt.

Harry spun round quickly.

“W-who’s there?!”

Before him, a plume of thick black smoke billowed from the padlock pendant around his neck. The smoke swirled, then condensed and took the shape of a shadow.

A tall, burly man wearing a smart suit. He had a gaunt face and slicked-back hair, neatly combed. He had a pair of dull red eyes that stared at Harry as though he were nothing more than a tedious insect.

“My name isn’t ‘Who’, young man,” said the figure, flicking the sleeve of his ethereal jacket.

“I am the First Guardian of this shop. And you… with your cowardly blood, have just woken me from a deep sleep.”

“A demon…” whispered Harry, his lips trembling. “I… I’m just hallucinating. It must be because I’m sleep-deprived from all that overtime last week…”

The spectral figure snorted in amusement and approached Harry. Harry could feel a chilling, eerie draught brush against his face.

“You’re not hallucinating; look… I’m real. Shut your mouth! It’s unbecoming of an heir to be so afraid,” whispered the Spirit of the Padlock with a sneer. “Like it or not, your bloodline has activated the Master Seal. You are now the owner of this antique shop.”

“No way! I want to sell this place! I’ve got a job. I don’t want anything to do with this sort of thing!” Harry shouted hysterically. His hands kept trying to pry the padlock pendant from his neck. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remove the necklace with the padlock pendant.

The Spirit of the Padlock shook its head slowly. “Sell? Do you think the items in this place are just ordinary old trinkets? Your grandmother spent her entire life imprisoning and sealing bloodthirsty demonic spirits inside these antiques. And once the Master Seal passes into your hands...”

The spirit trailed off. Its eyes glanced towards the shop’s front door.

Instantly, the padlock pendant around Harry’s neck began to vibrate violently. A burning sensation gripped his chest, triggering an overwhelming wave of nausea. From behind the wooden front door, which Jack had just shut tightly, came the sound of knocking.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Soft. Steady. But very heavy.

“Jack…?” Harry called hesitantly, his voice catching in his throat.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

The knocking turned into a series of heavy thuds that shook the door.

At the same time, Jack’s voice could be heard from outside, though it sounded choppy and broken, as if spoken by something imitating human vocal cords.

“Ha… rry… op… en… the… do… or…”

The Spirit of the Padlock beside Harry chuckled softly, a faint smile etched on his pale face.

“Go on, open it if you dare! He’s not your friend!” chuckled the old man.

But Harry’s hand paused on the doorstep.