The Grave Thief | ✔

Veena heaved open the casket lid to see a young man with his eyes closed and arms crossed over his unbreathing chest. Death by a weak heart, people had murmured during his funeral that morning.

Lowering the heavy stone lid noiselessly to the ground, she joined her palms and closed her eyes, murmuring a prayer to respect the dead. When she finished, she crouched next to the dead man to pry off his jewellery and take the items of value surrounding him.

Grave robbing was morally wrong, she knew it. Though at the same time, she had to survive somehow. In her culture, people buried their dead with jewellery and other valuables for their safe passing through the dead realm. Well, she was living, breathing and alive, and needed those valuables more than the dead.

They were dead anyway. What could they do? Haunt her?

She filled her linen bag to capacity. Hopefully, she'd be spared from the haunting. Maybe the dead would notice her desperate need to make a living and leave her alone.

She wasn't completely evil, either. She only took what was needed, so that the ghost of whoever it was always had something to hold on to. After she was done, another prayer was uttered and the casket lid was back in its position. She climbed out of the hole and shovelled back the dirt, leaving everything as she had found them.

Sighing, she slumped underneath a tamarind tree, keeping the bag on her lap and closing her eyes for a moment of rest. Grave robbing wasn't an easy job to do.

She could hear the bats flying overhead, an owl hooting nearby and other creatures that came out at night. She wasn't afraid, though. Animals were nothing over human beings. People could be cruel just for the sake of it, and she had been on the receiving end many times since the death of her parents.

Never mind. In their death, the riches of those people were hers to steal, anyway.

She stood up after getting her breath back. Instead of the main path, she crawled through a hedge and took the rough, less beaten path, picking her way among the brambles and roots. Snakes were very common and had to be kept away with a long broken branch.

Falling into a comfortable pace, she dreamed of her usual routine after she reached home. A hot bath to wash off the grime, then storing the loot in a secret place until she could melt the metals into a new shape so that they wouldn't be recognised when they were sold.

She did this every fortnight like clockwork, deviating only when there was the death of an exceptionally rich person. And, never, not even once, had she encountered another soul in the dark of the night. That's why, when the man just materialised into her path, she promptly opened her mouth and let out a scream.

The man had the audacity to look amused. Amused!

"Who are you?" She asked when she collected herself, discreetly arranging her bag so that none of its contents were showing.

He raised an eyebrow, his smile widening further. "I could ask you the same."

She exhaled to calm herself. He hadn't seen her actually robbing the grave. And people took night strolls all the time. She didn't deem to reply to his question, however, and started to walk away.

Annoyingly, the man came along, leisurely walking as if they were friends.

She had to stop after a few yards, fuming in impatience and irritation. "Please stop following me."

There was only a sliver of moonlight, and it glinted on his hair as he stared her down. "What if you find yourself in danger?"

Without warning, Veena curled her fingers into a fist and plowed it into his stomach, taking the wind out of him. Her lips curled into a satisfied smile as he groaned and bent over, clutching his stomach. "I assure you I can take care of myself."