EVANORA
Chapter 12

Fear is a powerful and primitive human emotion. It alerts us to the presence of danger and it is a critical phase of existence in keeping ourselves alive. Frank Dawson had never been scared or frightened of anything in his life. He was an angry man who drank himself into a mind numbing stupor repeatedly and exercised his sick and twisted fantasies on his only daughter who only ever wanted him to love her within the boundaries of a conventional father / daughter relationship.

Now he was standing in a dense forest in total darkness and one of his senses had been taken away...that of sight. Instead of stopping and taking stock of what was happening around him he was screaming out for Evanora and returning to the angry default button in his head.

“EVVAAANOORRRAAAA....WHERE ARE YOU?...SHOW YOURSELF !!!... I know you can hear me you little bitch...I don’t know what you are playing at but it isn’t going to end well for you when I get my hands on you...FUCKIN SHOW YOURSELF NOW!!!!”

He heard the fluttering wings again close to his head and he reached out in the dark until he found the handle of his shovel and began swinging it violently into the black night air with the hope of making contact and killing what ever it was that was teasing him. He was taking one step here and there in the dark and swinging the shovel wide eyed and hopefully to feel what ever it was make contact but his wild swinging was to no avail.

He made one forward step to many and landed in the hole he had just dug to bury his daughter in. Face down in the hole he screamed out in abject anger into the night sky... “EVANORRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAA....WHERE ARE....?”

Before he could finish his question to the black night air the mothers hand made from the tree roots of all the trees in the clearing towered over the hole. In the dark it had transformed from that of a loving caring mothers gentle hand into a nightmare with more fingers covered in razor sharp hooks and barbs and it was pointing straight up and over the top of the hole Frank Dawson now found himself in. The mothers hand looked like a huge black spider waiting to pounce on its victim with its fingers looking like legs twisting and flexing and with one savage lunge it buried all the fingers around the fire pitt and encased Frank Dawson in a cage that there was no escape from.

Evanora was lifted silently off the ground by a branch from the seed tree and placed high above the fire pitt in what could only described as a birds nest of leaves and flowers to allow her body to shake off the effects of the sleep syrup she had been given. She was now sitting up and rubbing her eyes feeling her body come back to some sort of normality but at the same time she was still very groggy. Her body had been abused while she was unconscious and her arms and legs ached as she moved them. The bindings that held her wrists and ankles had been fastened far to tightly and now they were swollen and painful to use. There was a fowl taste in her mouth from vomiting up the contents of her stomach and private areas of her body were stinging incessantly from invasion and improper exploited usage.

He reached out to pat at the ground in the darkness and his hand was pierced by a razor sharp barb protruding back in towards the hole for this very purpose. He retracted his hand like lightning at the initial contact and again he screamed out

“EVANORA WHAT HAVE YOU DONE...WHERE ARE YOU?”

All the barbs and hooks now faced Frank Dawson as he crouched down in the grave waiting for a response from his daughter. After asking his questions he held his breath and began listening intently for a reply or some sort of sound that would tell he him where to look and face in the event of a response.

Nothing.

No sounds at all.

He had been in forests before and usually there was movement in the tree branches or a subtle hiss of moving leaves and pine needles but now...there was nothing. Only the sound of him breathing frantically pushing air across his teeth and out of his mouth was all that he heard. It was as if the forest was holding its breath....waiting and watching.

Evanora tried to stand and at once branches came from all angles to help steady herself on her legs. She was wobbling as if to fall and reached out to gain balance while picturing in her mind where he father was and a bright clear image came in to her mind of her father searching around with his eyes wide open looking this way and that to see if her could see anything.

Evanora was getting better...she took a few steps around her nest. She felt ill and cleared away some flowers and leaves and vomited. The drugs she had been filled with were toxic in nature and when they were used they were over administered and she was suffering as a result. Her 10 year old body had been overdosed...and as she came back into a conscious state she realised what her father had done. The last thing she remembered was the orange juice. How bitter it tasted but she was so thirsty she just drained the glass and now she wakes up in her beloved clearing nesting in the seed tree and her father is caged into a grave in the ground held captive by her mothers hand. He wasn’t going anywhere and there was at least 6 hours of night left before the sun came up.

Evanora told herself to...heal....shake it off....you can do this....rub your eyes....move around......heal.....she flexed her arms and legs again and slowly the drugs began to wear off. Orchid was perched on the edge of the nest and as Evanora took a break and sat down she flew to her side and in the dark flapped her wings sending her scent and aroma over the face of her dearest friend. Evanora looked up at once and smiled then whispered...

“Hello dear friend....Im ok...just very drowsy and thirsty thank you for all that you are doing for me...I’ll be fine in little while”

Evanora closed her eyes and curled up in her nest and the seed tree placed a layer of big leaves topped with pine needles over her and she went to sleep again.

Frank Dawson never felt sad when he saw people suffer. He never had an ounce of guilt or remorse doing the list of unimaginable things he did to his daughter. He still wasn’t scared sitting in his daughters grave but he was breathing hard and trying to figure out how to create some light to see what was keeping him in the ground. Evanora was groaning in her sleep.

Franks head whipped around hearing the slightest of sounds above him. His eyes searched the dark and he yelled out...

“EVANORA I can hear you...I know where you are now”

All was quiet in the clearing, Frank knew he couldn’t get away so he leaned up against the grave wall and waited.

Evanora slept for nearly an hour.

When she opened her eyes they glowed soft orange and she rose to her feet seeing her surroundings under the glow of her eyes without any after effects of the drugs in her system. She walked around the nest and stretched her arms and legs. Orchid flew from the side of the nest she was perched on and landed on her friends shoulder again. Her wings were still very dark and Evanora reached backwards and stroked her gently to say thank you and let her know she appreciated all her concern and help.

After 15 minutes of gathering her feelings and composure she looked towards the seed tree and then knelt down and leaned forward to kiss the nest she was housed in then stood up and stretched finally to undertake the last of her problems. Evanora closed her eyes and practised floating out of the nest. At first she could still feel the nest beneath her feet but the state of her physical body with all the its years of abuse and mistreatment fuelled her determination and eventually she was 10 feet off the nest and she floated over to the seed tree and put her arms around its massive trunk. Where her arms touched the seed tree it retracted all the thorns and barbs and returned to its beautiful form beneath her grasp.

After thanking the seed tree she floated down to the nest and it felt as if all the trees in the clearing where waiting for Evanora to start so they could start as well. She turned her head to the night sky and took several deep breaths taking in the beauty of the stars and then she floated up to the upper most branches of the seed tree and surveyed the forest.

She cleared her mind.

Trees were quietly bending back their branches to watch Evanora. She floated slowly downward toward her mothers hand that was keeping her father quite secure in the grave he had dug for her. She was silent. Her eyes were closed. Her feet came into contact with the pine needles on the forest floor and her father heard the sound and peered, wide eyed out to where the sounds came from.

“Evanora....I know your’e there...I heard ya...show ya self !!”

Years of abuse, mistreatment, sexual deviation and pain went through every nerve ending in her body and festered in her heart. The loss of her beautiful mother, the torment and indiscretions of the people at her school. She allowed this pain and anger to boil and absolute hatred was now seething in every cell of her body. The forest felt it and started to thrash their branches around and now Frank was hearing sounds that made him look every which way for the direction in which they were coming. The sounds were all around him. 360 degrees of tension building and building. Evanora was standing close to her mothers hand and she extended her hands to wave the cage over her father away.

Frank heard the fingers leaving the ground but remained motionless in the grave until he thought it safe to move. He sat up in the grave and heard the trees thrashing around him. Their movement caused a breeze to blow around the clearing cooling the sweat on his face. He stood up still unable to see anything in the dark and he yelled again...

“EVANORA... SHOW YOURSELF”

Evanora raised her head and faced her father.

She opened her eyes and the clearing and gravesite glowed bright orange. The trees became as wild animals lashing and whipping each other. The noise was deafening and the carnage now flying around the clearing was the same as a hurricane tearing the clearing to pieces.

“Soon daddy....soon” said Evanora in voice that filled the clearing and she floated up off the forest floor and slowly glided towards her father standing in her grave.

For the first time in his life Frank Dawson was not afraid...he was petrified.