A Killer!
Well, of course she is. A person bearing the Temple of Pain's mark as a killer comes as no surprise, though the followers' gruesome acts were never personal. From what Kane understood, they targeted criminals—punishing, tormenting, and executing with a detached purpose. Even with madness flickering in some members' eyes, deep resentment or such profound darkness seemed unlikely. So, what turned the woman before him into a killer? The Temple's influence, or that shadowed rage in her gaze? What hidden story shaped her?
Most outsiders remained oblivious to the Temple, but its followers knew the mark could spell trouble. Yet this woman appeared unconcerned—did she not care, or was it arrogance, ignorance, or perhaps something deeper? Kane couldn't decipher it.
She drew nearer, her steps steady, her expression a blend of wariness, hate, and avoidance. As she passed, her eyes shifted from him to the matte black 1971 Demon parked nearby. Her pace slowed, and she peered under the open hood. Turning back to Kane, she said:
"That carburetor's got a hairline crack."
Her voice carried a quiet confidence, cutting through the stillness.
Kane froze, caught off guard. The revelation jolted him—not just because it hinted at knowledge beyond his own car savvy, but because the prior silence between them had felt so calm. Shaking off his surprise, he leaned over the hood, tracing the faint line she'd spotted. A slow grin spread across his face.
"Huh, thanks," he murmured, his voice a warm, easy drawl, the tone light with genuine appreciation.
He nodded at her, a gesture of respect.
She returned a brief nod, her face unchanged, and resumed her walk.
"Uh… miss, you live around here or somethin'?" he called after her, his voice smooth and casually curious, the tone relaxed as he watched her go.
She stopped, turning to meet his gaze, then slowly scanned the surroundings.
Woods stretched endlessly, fields glistened with dew, and the road lay empty—a desolate stretch far from any city. The question felt absurd. Who would live out here? Yet her solitary trek seemed equally improbable. Perhaps she resided nearby, or her destination hid close by—maybe even a secret temple outpost among the trees, Kane mused. Her thoughts lingered on the oddity, then sharpened with resolve.
She looked at him, her eyes cold and unyielding.
"…No," she replied, her voice low and somber, each word heavy with an unspoken weight.
Kane raised an eyebrow, processing her answer.
"So, then, are you headin' to Ashwick?" he asked, his tone a gentle probe as he tilted his head slightly.
She nodded, a flicker of tension tightening her frame.
Kane glanced around, taking in the vast emptiness. The distance to Ashwick loomed large, even for a car, and the isolation pressed in.
Nora's posture stiffened, her mind racing with memories of past threats, her hand twitching as if reaching for a hidden weapon.
Kane, lost in his thoughts, missed her reaction entirely.
"On foot?" he asked, his voice laced with mild astonishment.
She gave a slight nod and continued walking.
Kane watched, still reeling from her earlier observation.
After a few paces, the faint rumble of a familiar engine reached her ears.
She recognized it instantly—the Demon's distinct growl.
The sound grew louder as the car approached from behind, slowing beside her.
Kane's face appeared, one hand steady on the wheel, the other resting in the window gap of the door.
Her eyes met his, cold and slightly grim, her expression unreadable.
"Hey, do you need a ride?" he said, his voice friendly.
She shook her head lightly, her face a mask of indifference and avoidance, and kept walking.
Kane leaned out slightly, undeterred.
"Look, even if you walk all day, you'll barely leave this road. It's dead out here—no one's givin' you a lift after dark," he pressed, his voice shifting to a persuasive edge, a touch of concern threading through.
He paused, studying her.
She seemed torn—convinced yet reluctant, her wariness palpable.
"Come on, I'm headed to Ashwick too," he added, his tone coaxing, a hint of encouragement in his stance.
The car eased to the shoulder.
Nora approached reluctantly, her steps hesitant.
Kane stepped out, moving around to her side.
Most might assume he intended to open the door out of courtesy, but Nora was no ordinary traveler.
Her body tensed, ready for any sudden move, her past sharpening her instincts.
Kane reached the door, gripping the handle, and looked at her.
"Ah… do you mind drivin'?" he asked, his voice casual and playful, a grin breaking through as he slid into the passenger seat, defying her expectations entirely.