Page 40 of Souls We Rip

Its breath briefly touched my ears, as if making this on purpose. My name on its lips sent another tremor through my body.

“No,” I replied, turning to him.

And my heart rampaged.

The Goat Man

She had gold speckles in her icy blue eyes, veiled by her dilated pupils.

Blood rushed beneath her skin, colouring her already tainted cheeks. Her breathing quickened, her nostrils flaring. The scent of summer flowers invaded my senses, and my hand twitched to touch her hair.

“Those eyes… they do not belong to this world,” she whispered, her iciness travelling over my skull.

“Yes, you’ll have them too.”

Her eyes continued to move as if counting how many souls I had taken.

“When you get baptised, your eyes will turn completely white. Once you take your first soul, the first blue swirl appears,” I explained, but I was not sure if she was listening.

We stared into each other’s eyes. Moments, hours, days must have passed, or at least that is what my mind made me believe. Her gaze roamed from one eye to the other as though she were looking at a man.

And not the Goat Man.

I had the urge to take off my skull and show her what lay behind it.

“What more would you like to know?” I whispered over her lips, her head tilting slightly upwards. I felt her body shiver, leaning slowly towards mine.

I straightened as if waking from a nightmare.

Because that was the human before me. A nightmare that stood between me and my long-time wish. And not even countless golden speckles swimming in the bluest sea would make me relent.

The movement made her wake from the reverie. She closed her eyes and took a step back. When she opened them, she looked straight at the ceiling.

“How would I know which soul is evil?” she repeated her question, her neck turning scarlet.

I went to grab my cloak, satisfied that she felt flustered under my gaze. Water dripped from my body, making the stone slippery. I placed the mantle over my shoulders, invoking one settee, its velvety brown fabric tempting me to slumber.

“You will see in the Souls’ Mirror,” I said, stretching my legs over the settee.

“You mentioned it before. What is…?” She turned to me, her eyes roving over the settee. “Will I be able to do that as well?” Her mouth opened, her legs carrying her with a strut to the foot of the divan. Her fingers grazed the velvet, a smile spreading over her lips.

She forgot everything about her internal turmoil and the sins she might commit.

She had a ravishing smile, my mind wanting to see it on many more occasions. But how could one achieve that?

I shook my head, dispelling the thought and cleared my throat. “Yes, you can do that too, once you have your final form.”

My feet jerked at the touch of her coat. “What is the Souls’ Mirror?” she echoed her question, her dark eyebrows joining.

“It’s a mirror that you will receive on the day of your baptism. It will show you your next soul to take. Besides that, it will also reveal to you the reason why he or she is evil.”

Her eyebrows rose. “We only had a mirror at home. It belonged to my mother,” her voice became softer, as if she was lost in thought. “She promised to give it to me for my dowry.”

“Well, since you’ll be something more, you can conjure yourself whatever trinket.”

She shot daggers with her eyes. “Yes, instead of building a family of my own, I have to be a judge of souls.” Her hands fretted in front of her skirt, leaving stains behind.

I sighed, my patience with the woman thinning with each word. “You will also receive a scythe that will be used as your weapon,” I explained, conjuring mine. Its dark blade shone in the torchlight, the handle smoother than silk.