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I’m thinking gourmet, but for that, I need to buy a suit, a haircut, and a proper shave.
The money-hungry gears are already turning in my head again. Twenty-five years did nothing to corrode my hunger for financial gain. If anything, it made me colder and more calculated about how I’m going to return to the rich life.
I’ll never go to sleep without a meal, and I’ll never close my eyes in a cold bed. I’ll always have my belly full and my balls empty.
God knows I need to fuck someone. I’ve endured twenty-five years of celibacy, which should be classified as torture. Not being able to touch a woman for that long has turned simple fantasies into wicked kinks. I’m almost afraid of what I’m capable of doing.
I squeeze the hunk of gold in my pocket, a smile tugging up the frozen corners of my mouth as I walk toward the nearest town. There’s nothing left for me to be afraid of but myself. I’ve braved everything and came out richer than ever, and I’ll soon show the world that locking me away wasn’t enough to stop me. Death is the only thing that could possibly keep me from claiming what’s rightfully mine, but if death comes for me, I’ll be putting up one hell of a fight.
The rain eases a bit as I walk, but even if it was coming down like a waterfall, I would barely notice it. There’s a lightness to my step despite the extra weight in my pocket, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like everything might actually work out in my favor.
God made me patient, but the Devil is going to give me what I’ve been waiting for.
I’m almost ready to return to the little house in Montana and dig up what I buried there. Whoever is inside better be prepared for a cold reception.
4
Kimberly
The basement is a good ten degrees colder than the rest of the house, and it only seems to get colder as I go further down the stairs. The darkness swallows me, goosebumps rising on my arms as my feet hit the cold tile floor.
I search for a switch, my flashlight doing barely anything to help me find it. The darkness is oppressive, but I conquer it as my fingers find a little switch far removed from the bottom of the staircase.
The lights come on slowly, fading into existence one by one, revealing a basement that feels bigger than it should be. It stretches twice the distance of the house, buried underground and tucked away like it’s not meant to be found.
The floor is sleek, with black-and-white checkerboard tiles stretched from wall to wall like a Masonic Temple. There’s an air of importance to this place, but also danger. I don’t feel like I’m supposed to be here, even though it’s my property.
I tuck my phone into my pocket, standing with my feet together and my arms wrapped around myself in a comforting embrace. It’s not the cold that’s bothering me. There’s something weird about this place, and it makes me supremely uncomfortable.
The air is still, heavy with the kind of silence that's only found deep underground or in a purposefully soundproof chamber. This silence has been undisturbed for a long time, and my intrusion upon it is a ripple in the eerie calmness of a forbidden place.
By coming down here, I have the strong impression that I’ve changed the course of history.
A little dramatic for my reasonable self, but it’s easy to get lost in the energy here and forget who you are.
I take a small step forward, testing my luck, but the floor creaks in a way that it really shouldn’t, considering that it’s tile, and I turn around and race back up the stairs, leaving the light on.
When I get up to the top, I close the door hard, wishing I had the key to lock it. It was such a bad idea to come here so late at night. I need to learn to be more patient.
I let out a deep sigh, taking a moment to collect myself. My heart is beating much harder than it should for what little exertion it was to dash up the stairs. I’m reluctant to admit that I’m afraid. There’s nothing for me to fear.
Until a heavy knock on the front door echoes through my empty house.
“Who the fuck is that?” I whisper to myself, my voice tight and high in my throat. What little calmness I managed to achieve has vanished like a drop of water in the desert sand.
Nobody should be knocking on my door at this hour.
I’m frozen in the hallway, unable to move until another knock nearly rattles the door off its hinges.
Fuck, someone really wants to get in, but who could it be? The previous owner? Is it just a coincidence that someone arrived the moment I came up from the mysterious basement?
Or do they know I was down there?
I swallow hard, trying to muster up the courage to respond to my unknown visitor. Maybe if I don’t say anything, they’ll go away.
Another knock eliminates that possibility. They know I’m home. The lights are on and there aren’t any curtains to shield myself from view. It’s possible that they’ve already seen me, and if they really did want to get in, they could easily burst through one of the windows.
I wish I had a gun, but it’s too late for that. I have to face whatever is out there, and I can’t let them know I’m terrified.
