Page 61 of Souls We Rip

No, I didn’t. Because in that moment, seeing her scared broke a small piece of me. If she had asked to cut off my arm, I would have.

Her fragile state was my doing.

Everything I felt then was odd and unfamiliar to me. And I didn’t know what to do with that. My eyes widened at the revelation, surprised by what I was capable of thinking.

She lowered her head towards the mirror, ignoring my shallow breaths. “Where is this?”

I cleared my throat, trying to focus on the mission ahead.

Make her take someone’s soul.

“In Țara Oașului. And that man is a teacher,” I answered, placing my palm over my chest. I suddenly got an itch that wouldn’t get away.

“A teacher?” she gasped, her eyes widening.

“Mh-mm. He does this and worse,” I said, tapping her Mirror once.

Image after image of the man taking young girls and boys to his house played on the glass. It showed us the moments, the evilest thing the teacher could do to a human. He threatened the youngsters that their parents would lose their assets if a word came out about what was happening.

“But he is supposed to be teaching children about life, not taint it!” Her voice trembled with anger, while she put the mirror carefully on the table, so as not to break it. The woman swirled around with too much force that she almost fell, if it weren’t for my arms.

Her breath caught in her throat; her eyes wandered over my hidden face. White eyes lingered on my neck, pulling a smirk from me.

I lifted her, guiding her to bed. “I will send the ghost to bring your meal. You will need strength, human.”

She squinted her eyes at me, a sly smile on her lips. “Ana would do.” Her voice was soft, but an impish look crossed her eyes. “We are somewhat equals now, aren’t we?”

“Ana.” Her name made my tongue touch my teeth, scraping it, making me feel things which I had forgotten. Things which should not be there without a heart.

Drizzle covered our coats and skulls, while mourning clouds wrapped around the sky. The air cleared over the fields, the wet haystacks were prepared to be collected by the peasants for feeding the livestock in the next winter.

The houses were sprayed over the hills, cows mooing and horses neighing here and there.

“I should do it alone, right?”

Her voice was a whisper in the air, haunting, but ethereal at the same time.

“That is how it is usually done,” I said, nodding. The clouds were getting darker by the second, so we had to make haste. “I do not need to teach you how to use a scythe. I expect you already know how.”

Ana dipped her chin once. She walked further; her feet strongly planted in the dirt. She didn’t want to use her powers as a Soul Ripper. She wanted to keep as humanly as possible.

Admiring her stubbornness, I followed her on foot.

We arrived at a house, similar to Ana’s, and I admired the elaborate paintings on the front of the building.

Sheep and shepherd dogs were milling around the house; hay was spread over the burnt grass. The wool of the herd was so damaged that nothing but a cut would salvage it.

The house was smaller; the light-yellow painted frames were the only splash of colour. Stray cats were stepping carefully on the tiled roof; their eyes fixed on the two skulls below them. Birds flew over our heads, their trill escorting us.

“Are you sure this man is evil?” she asked, stretching her hooves.

As the dogs took notice of us, they rushed to our feet. I stopped them with a hand, commanding them to go back to their herd.

“The Mirror showed you as such,” I replied, watching the sheep go astray from the house. “The Mirror, unless instructed, doesn’t lie.”

She fumbled with her skull. “I hate this thing.”

“Take it off, then,” I shrugged. “The scythe will scare him anyway.”