The Craving

Chapter Three- Morale

The onomatopoeic sound of the zipper circulating the space around her, Thora set the bag of money in the trunk of her car and closed it until it locked beneath her fingertips. Every sense of guilt that would usually occupy her mind and heart had vanished when her eyes came to the figure that struck her as being familiar. However, the form itself had been hidden by the long wisps of a nearby willow tree that stood on the property opposite of the motel. As she had done before, Thora blinked and the figure had left-but she could still feel the sense of being watched as she returned to her duties expected of her. She chalked the stalking sensation up to the criminality in her actions in taking the money. It was not that she was even planning to spend it, but the fact she had it in her possession would allow her a sense of peace among her abusive home-life situation.

The road she was forced to take home was a rather desolate one as it had been lined with trees on either side that danced along with the moderate breeze that accompanied the forfeit of the sun as it fell to night. The cadence of PERISH's voice mixed with her moody lyrics of "Prey" had filled the dark gray Chevrolet Cavalier that had been in her possession for the last few years. Aside from the fact there had been a few cosmetic details upon the interior of the car itself-it was in rather impressive condition and nearly spotless. A simple dreamcatcher hung from the center mirror that had belonged to Thora's mother many years prior. There had been a time where the thought of looking at anything that belonged to her mother would immediately put her into hysterics-but now, she found it as a sort of comfort.

Her car's tires moved over the rough asphalt that made up each one of Avery Island's back roads until it came to last turn before she would pull in front of her home. In the flicker of a moment, she saw a dark figure sulk in the darkness and lumbered from one side of the road to the other. But in the instant that her eyes fell to the motion, the being had turned to face her and stared upon her with eyes that lit up with an Egyptian blue lighting. She was mesmerized by this as she contributed the thought of being sleep deprived or simply possessing an overactive imagination as being present in a small town could be responsible for such a thing.

Her foot stepped back upon the gas pedal and continued the few meters left to her home and pulled half way into the grass to park. She had felt uneasy from the events of the last few hours and couldn't break the feeling of being ogled by an unseen figure. But without any danger or potential risk in sight, she simply moved to the trunk of her car and retrieved the aged bag and made her way inside the home. Luckily her father seemed to be out at one of the local bars as this gave her time to scan the bag itself and try to understand why someone would give her so much cash. She slid the chain-lock closed within her room to make sure her father couldn't get inside; even with the impressive strength he held behind a rather feeble appearance.

Thora pinched the bottom corners of the bag and sent the contents spilling over onto her bed as she began to place the piles into sections of thousands as it covered her entire twin-sized comforter. She stood in disbelief at the sight as her lips fell agape at the vision of the potential worry-free life that was at the edge of her fingertips. Her eyes closed for a bit as she envisioned a life away from Avery Island or Louisiana in general. One where nobody would know her as the girl whose family fell apart after two of them were murdered. She could be anybody she wanted outside of this town, with the help of that money. But for the same reason she couldn't claim her life, she also couldn't bring herself to make any solid plans in leaving as she knew without her, her father would certainly lose his life as well. There had been times when the thought of such a thing was welcome, but her kind heart would always slap her metaphorical hand and she told herself that he was a good man beneath all of the anger and bitterness he held.

As she went to move the money back into the back, her eyes came to a name stitched into an old silk tag at the very foundation of the bag. Her fingers traced over the name as her lips spoke his name in a light whisper.

Kane Abernathy.

She wondered the man who would have possessed this bag as being a doctor perhaps as it held the type of structure as belonging to a vintage physician. Perhaps he was a man who was responsible for curing a disease or saving the life of a soldier. Her mind then flashed to what he would look like today and why a man of his age would be helping her as a year was imprinted upon the back of the tag dating to the end of the 1940s. Surely, the man would be elderly by now with grandchildren and maybe even great-grandchildren-and then the thought of him being a perverted man had snuck into her mind. Thora's body became plagued with chills at the thought before she then moved to the curtains of her bedroom to close their sheer fabric and give her a small sense of privacy. The tired nature of her heavy eyes and the exhaustion from the day had led her to miss the same haunting blue rings that looked onto her and scanned her every movement, before the curtains came to a full close.

By the time she had returned the money into the bag and found a safe place to hide it from her father, she was too tired to do anything more than brush her teeth and change into a long 1920s style nightgown that was perfect for the hot Louisiana nights. She had managed to forget of the 80s music blasting through her earphones, which set for her to have a mess of dreams surrounding the bag, the death of her mother and brother, and feeling watched. The dream was a mix of something from Lewis Caroll's mind as it startled her enough to awaken in a sweat.

Her feet moved quiet upon the wooden floors of the home so she did not awaken her father who was present on the couch once more. Desperate to gain fresh air and perspective among her dreams, she moved onto the porch of her home and looked out onto the early hours of the morning that fell dark before her. The slight illumination of wavering street lamps had offered just enough light to see across the way. The sound of crickets had filled the otherwise morbid silence that fell on this side of town as she stretched her rather petite limbs-unaware of the figure sitting upon the porch swing just a few feet abreast her. His dark figure had not moved for even a breath as he watched her with a statue-type precision. His lips parted as if going to speak, but the fear of startling her had kept him from doing so. However, the creaking wood that held his silhouette had betrayed this attempt and forced her to look in his direction and just stare upon him.

Many people who had just witnessed a man spying on them would scream or run-but not Thora. She was intrigued by the man who sat in silence, as he was the same man she felt a sense of familiarity with. Thora couldn't explain or pin what exactly it had been about him-but she knew she wasn't afraid of him. Even as he towered over her when he finally decided to acknowledge his existence to her, or the fact his physique was impressive enough to remove her without much of a fight-she remained unafraid. Instead of her lips being stern or laced with even a hint of worry, they curved into a smile as she caught a hint of the sweet floral scent that was accompanied with the bag and she knew that this man was the one responsible for her potential freedom. But he was also the first thing in five years that had made her want to stay.