Chapter Text
Her trembling hand clutched Luda Mae’s dress tightly,
“Please look after her…” she gasped weakly.
“I promise.”
~
August , 1969
Dahlia breathed in the fresh, crisp air of Travis County, Texas. It had taken her 17 years to get back to the one place she truly called home. Only to find out that the once bustling little town from her childhood was now a deserted wasteland except for the few locals that still lingered around. Anxious, the young woman grabbed the handle of her suitcase and began her journey to the end of the main drag; the bus had dropped her off at the opposite end of the road, refusing to go any further even if it was only a few miles. She prayed that she’d make it to her destination before dark since it was already late afternoon.
As she walked, she thought of how her life had played out so far.
She had been born to abusive and neglectful parents, they took pleasure in hitting her and emotionally torturing her. She learned by age 4 that life was unfair. In middle school she was bullied by the other students mercilessly for her small stature and shyness. As she aged, life at home became worse. Slaps and halfhearted punches turned into whippings with leather belts and random heavy objects often became projectiles. Her parents put out their cigarettes on her skin, cut her up just to see her bleed, and would beat her to the point of unconsciousness if she ever tried to stand up for herself or run away. They always found her. She learned to keep her mouth shut, to not speak unless spoken too. Her only saving grace was the ticket that would come in the mail for her every year.
Irene Moon always sent her a plane ticket to come to Texas every summer to stay for 2 weeks. Dahlia would pack up her stuff and fly down to see her beloved Grandmother, eager to leave her oppressive life behind, if only for a little bit. The bus would drop her off a few blocks away from the older woman’s cozy home which was nestled in a thicket of trees on the edge of town. She always felt safe with her Grandmother, and longed to stay with her but fear of her parents always made her go back to California.
When she turned nine, Irene passed away from a heart attack and Dahlia, in her uncontrollable grief, cried and screamed at her parents for not allowing her to attend the funeral. That little stunt caused her to get beat so bad, that when she woke up two weeks later, she was in the hospital. Apparently her mother had come after her with a knife and cut her face to the point of needing stitches. The police report said that she had come running out of the house screaming, her hands holding the long gash, trying to stop the bleeding before she passed out on the street.
Her parents lost custody of her, and after she healed up in the hospital, she was sent to live with a distant cousin, who also beat her. High school came around and everything was pretty much the same, except the bullying at school became physical. She would get shoved into lockers and left until someone decided to let her out, the girls would stick notes on her back, calling her a freak or a whore; the boys tripped or smacked her in the hallways, and teachers would turn a blind eye, not caring enough to do anything.
The source for her bullying was the grisly scar her mother gave her, it began at the top left of her forehead, running diagonally down between her eyes and over her nose bridge, down the right side of her cheek until it ended below her collarbone. It was ugly, raised with tough skin, the scar being a shade darker than her already pale complexion. She tried to cover it up with makeup, but it didn't work.
At eighteen she left her cousins house, bumming it out on the street for a couple of years and eventually got a job at a small diner a few cities away. She managed to save enough for a small apartment, it wasn’t much but it was hers. Dahlia entertained the thought about going to college but lacked the money and the courage to sign up. What if it was like high school? What could she even do with a college degree?
She never put thought into her future since she always had something going on. Her answer came to her in the mail one evening, a few days after she turned 25. It was a letter from a random attorneys office, inside the manila folder was a receipt of her grandmothers property that had been sold to a realtor along with a check, some money for a plane ticket, and a single note. For once, since Irene’s passing, Dahlia felt excited.
She worked at the diner for the rest of the year and then quit, broke her lease with the apartment owner, sold most of her meager belongings to afford the bus fare to the airport and took off with a one-way ticket to Texas. A single note clutched in her small hands.
‘To my dearest Dahlia,
By the time you get this note, I have long since passed. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to protect you from your parents, that would be the one thing I regret most in my life. Please understand that I waited until your 25th birthday to have this sent to you because I knew that my daughter wouldn’t have let you leave the house at 18, so I arranged for a fake will to go to her and the real one to go to you. I have sold my property to a realtor for a decent price and willed all of the money to you in the form of a check. You may spend it however you wish, but there is something I must tell you before that happens. Remember Miss Luda? The owner of the general store and gas station at the end of the main road? If you aren’t happy with how life is now, or need a place to go, she’d be more than willing to take you in. In her home, you will never get beaten or abused again, I swear it. It’ll be the peace and quiet you’ve always yearned for and Luda is so full of love, you two would get along so well. But the choice is yours, whatever you choose to do with your life please remember that I’m always there with you in spirit and that I love you to the moon and back. Stay safe.
Grandma.’
~
It was near dusk when she finally got to the store. While she vaguely remembered it being a lively place where all of the locals flocked too, it was now a sad, derelict building. She breathed in and bit her lip in trepidation. What if Luda Mae wasn’t alive anymore? What if she didn’t remember her grandmother and turned her away?
‘Welp, there’s only one way to find out I guess.’ She thought to herself.
Dahlia went up to the door and carefully pulled it open. She stepped inside and looked around, not seeing anyone at the counter. Nervously, she closed the door behind her and walked to the display case by the register and snuck a peak at it, only finding some random cuts of meat and a few pieces of beef jerky. Not finding that particularly appealing, she was about to call out for someone when a gruff voice said,
“The hell are you doin’?”
Squeaking, the young woman whirled around and came face to face with an older man. He was wearing a sheriff's uniform and was impatiently tapping the floor with a boot clad foot. He had dark blue eyes and a severe frown, a graying 5 o’ clock shadow forming on his chin, the cowboy hat covered his hair but she guessed it was the same salt and pepper color like his eyebrows. Gulping, Dahlia answered in a soft voice,
“I-is Miss Luda Mae Hewitt here?”
The man’s eyes narrowed and she shivered when his eyes swept over her form before staring her hard in the eyes, distrust clearly evident. “Who’s askin’?”
Obviously intimidated, she held out her grandmothers note and let the sheriff read it over. She watched as a myriad of expressions passed over his face. Anger, surprise, confusion and finally skepticism. His eyebrows raised and he glared at her once again.
“Lemme go make a quick call, Luda ain't in today. You stay right here, little girl.”
She watched as the sheriff sauntered over to the phone behind the polished wood counter. He picked up the phone and began dialing, not wanting to look like she was eavesdropping she wandered around the store, remembering a few choice pieces of decor. It was strange, she used to make a few trips to this store when she was with her grandmother, but for the life of her couldn’t remember much about it. Maybe she was knocked in the head one too many times. As she was looking around, she didn't notice hard blue eyes staring at her.
~
“Hello?”
“Monty, give the phone to Luda.”
“She’s busy prepping dinner, she can call you la-“
“No! This is important!” Charlie hissed, glancing at the young woman walking around the store. She was a pretty little thing, probably 5 '3 with large tits, wide hips and a plump ass; he was upset that he couldn’t have any fun with her if her letter turned out to be true. Although, the nasty scar on her face and sad eyes told him that’s this filly had a rough life. Her hair was long, pitch black and ended at her waist, her skin was pale and blemish free, she had a heart shaped face and a cute little nose, full pink lips and the biggest eyes he’d ever seen. They were a startling shade of emerald, offset by thick, dark lashes and full eyebrows. The girl reminded him of a little doll.
“Hello?”
“Luda,” He began. “What the hell did you do?!”
“What are you talkin’ about?”
“There’s a young woman here lookin’ for you. She gave me a note and it said that you would take ‘er in or sumthin’.” He waited for a response but all he got was a small gasp.
“Luda?”
“Charlie,” She sounded breathless. “Charlie, bring her here. I’ll explain everything later but please bring her here now .” She all but demanded before hanging up. Grumbling, the sheriff sighed and placed the phone back in the cradle. This really wasn’t the time to be causing a ruckus. It had been about a month since his family had turned to eating flesh and while he didnt have any qualms about it, he knew Luda still wasn’t comfortable; but she was warming up to the idea since it meant that they wouldn’t go hungry. Monty was in a slight daze, ever since his legs were chopped off but he didn't deny the taste of human meat when he ate. And Thomas, well, the boy ate anything. He was hesitant at in the beginning, but Luda’s expertise at cooking quickly changed his mind. Like he told his nephew, ‘meat is meat and bone is bone.’
He took off his hat and ran his hands through his hair; fine, he’d deliver the girl to Luda and wait for an explanation and if he didnt like it, he’d just kill the bitch. As he walked towards her, he fleetingly thought about his nephew. If they disposed of the girl, he’d probably give her to Tommy to have some fun before they offed her. His 30th birthday had just passed and Charlie had a feeling that he was beginning to grow bored of the rides outta town for some pussy. He couldn’t blame his nephew though, the old hags that walked the streets were always loose and dry. Yes, if they got rid of the girl, Tommy could have her for a bit; she’d be an excellent birthday present.
“C’mon girl, lets go.” He barked, lips forming into a sinister grin when she jumped.
“W-where?”
Charlie motioned for her to go outside, “I’m takin’ ya to see Luda, she’s expectin’ you.” He locked up the store and rounded the building to the back, gesturing to the stolen police car that sat under a tree. Dahlia hurried along, not wanting to provoke the man. He hopped in the car and waited for her slide in, grinning nastily when she sat in the back. Charlie started the car and stomped on the gas, the car lurched forward and she whined as her head snapped back painfully. Cackling, he veered onto the road and let off the gas, looking in the rear view mirror with a smirk. Briefly, Dahlia wondered what she had gotten into.