Page 110 of Souls We Rip

I prayed.

Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.

I asked him for her to be able to arrive safely, for her to be happy even if I perish, to save the boy and raise him as she would raise her children.

I prayed for her family to give her guidance for her future. And I prayed for her to finally find her peace.

Closing my eyes and stilling for a second, I listened to the boy’s breathing, which was calmer now. I placed my hand on his chest to feel his heart beating, the thumps moving my palm.

“Goat Man, you’ll finally see your long-lost family.”

The eerie voice travelled to my ears. My head snapped to the ceiling, where white dots appeared, but they had nothing pristine in them. The whisperers roamed the stony surface from one corner to the other, pulsing with each word that left them.

“She will never love you, Goat Man. You’re too despicable to be loved.”

I turned to the left, where other voices crept in the walls. If they didn’t know what they were, I would associate them with fireflies. Their words were meant to sting. And if I didn’t trust the woman who made room for me in her soul, I would lean towards their voices.

“I hope you die soon, Goat Man. Your life is nothing.”

It was nothing.

Gritting my teeth, I pulled the boy closer to me. His breath touched my chest. I exhaled as silently as I could, so as not to disrupt his sleep.

The clacking of hooves replaced the murmur of the whisperers, the air getting staler.

“Brother, come to meet your end!” the Elk asked, the voice muffled due to the skull.

I felt invisible arms dragging me across the room, the child still immersed in slumber. My naked feet were dragged on the rocks, stubbing my toes against them and making them bleed.

As my body was pushed by threads, I felt my hands burning. Flames caught my fingers, spreading to my arms. The scream that tore through my neck was unheard by the Elk and his whisperers. No one could help.

The flames jumped from my fingers to my chest, in the place where a heart should be. My clothes were ablaze, the smell of burnt meat reaching my nostrils, vomit pulling in my mouth. At one point, I didn’t even know if the screams came from me or they came from the Elk. Before closing my eyes, I saw his skull raised to the ceiling.

Specks of ice rained from above, putting out the flames. My throat opened in muted misery with a scream that would never be heard by others.

“Don’t die just yet, brother.”

His words pulled my eyes open. A giddiness touched my anguished soul as all the burns and blisters disappeared from my skin. The Elk wanted me whole to break me for good.

This time, the light of candles flooded his rooms, with the hallway being the longest of all. It felt endless, not knowing how long we walked. His hooves were echoing in the eerie silence.

“I thought we were eternal, my brother,” I jeered, remembering his sayings when I was first turned into this creature.

His laughter broke the silence, scratching my ears. “And you believed that?”

The chamber we entered felt like hell, sweat gathering at my temples and upper lip. There was a wooden throne sitting in the middle of the room, with candles surrounding it. One gust of wind and the throne would be engulfed in flames. The rest of the room was clustered with darkness; nothing beyond the seat could be seen.

The light shimmered over the glossy stone wall, snuffing out the breathable air.

The Elk turned to the left, my body carried behind him.

His hand slashed the air, and a deep cut appeared from my left shoulder to my abdomen. A scream stopped in my throat, the pain too much to bear. My wrists were held by the threads, my skin burning. Blood dripped down my legs, pooling around them. A whimper broke out of me, making the Elk laugh.

“Brother, do you know the saying: ‘Don’t put salt on the wound’?”

My eyes narrowed as two large raffia bags filled with the white ingredient came next to me. With my body thrashing, I tried to pull away from them, but the threads kept me in place. With invisible strength, the bags poured themselves on my body. It took everything in me not to give in to his satisfaction by screaming.

It stung, as if small needles were prickling my skin.