Page 30 of Souls We Rip

“But I can,” it mocked me, one of its hooves knocking on its chest, its skull craned to the sky.

My feet shot up, knees bucking. I pressed my hands on the table, not thinking straight, dizziness engulfing me.

I had to collect souls. Murder people for its liking. Ten people in exchange for my family, so they could live on. The contract bound me to taint my heart and my body with the blood of unknown people.

For its bidding? It implied to forget myself for The Goat Man. It meant to forget God.

“I cannot murder people!” I screamed, pushing the chair down with my legs.

I felt its eyes roaming over my body, stopping at my chest, which was rising rapidly. All of a sudden, I felt the need to cover myself, the blood streaming to my cheeks.

Its body glided over the dirt, extinguishing some of the candles. “Not even if the thread of your loved ones' lives hangs from my scythe?”

It did not even open its skull's mouth to speak. The only movement was the clapping of its bones. His horse neighed once in warning, and I stepped back.

My eyes were searching for a way out, but the sun stopped me from seeing anything beyond the Goat Man’s dark form. I did not know if it was the heat or the candles, but I was sure my ie was dampened. I felt it stick to my body, the fabric scratching my skin.

“No answer, peasant? Would you like to see a demonstration of what would happen if you do not choose my way?”

My mouth suddenly went dry. My feet were stuck in the dirt by an invisible force. The sun was scorching my skin, or it was the Goat Man. I couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

A distant figure emerged from the woods, resembling my mum, the dawn reflecting off her hair. She was running towards me, calling my name from afar. Her hands were filled with platters of food. Her foot stumbled on a pebble, and everything toppled, splattering the dishes on the ground. Her stomach touched the ground, her hands covering her face, blonde strands falling over the sunburnt grass.

My knees jerked, but my legs wouldn’t listen to my commands. I wanted to jump to her aid, but one large figure stopped me. It covered the sun, cutting down the light.

Behind her stood the Goat Man with its dark scythe. The sun reflected the warm light of the inky blade. One hit was enough to relieve her body of her head.

“NO!” I never felt my neck muscles strain as much as they did then. My scream was raw, echoing through the woods, forcing all the birds to flee from my ire.

The Goat Man brought one of his hooves to the skull’s mouth, stopping me from crying. I kept my sobs in my chest, my tears still flowing on my blazing face. I did not have time to take in the impact of seeing my mother beheaded, as a second figure sprang from the deep green of the forest. My mouth twisted, the shock of seeing Angelica’s summery sun hair draped over my mother’s body.

“No! Run, Angi! RUN!” I bawled, trying to understand if this was the truth before my eyes or if there were only visions induced by the Goat Man.

“Ana! Help me!” she screamed back, her warm eyes suddenly becoming cold. Her piercing shout couldn’t be a vision.

The tip of the scythe stabbed my sister’s chest, blood covering her beautiful Sunday dress.

I fell to my knees, the emotions too raw, too painful, as my sister’s heart was impaled on the end of the scythe, blood dripping onto her lean body.

“See? Sign the deal, and they will never feel such pain in their life.”

The Goat Man’s voice reached my ears over sobs, trying to make any sense of it. But my mind was occupied by all sorts of images of my loved ones dying.

I couldn’t stop crying, the picture of my mum and sister murdered in cold blood running in circles through my head.

Other vivid images replaced what I had seen earlier. My mum and sister were gutted, punched with horns, their eyes taken out, walking around with their heads in their hands.

The rustle of the wind chilled my body. My face was cold; my tears were frozen on my cheeks, and my breathing became shallow.

“Stop it…” I murmured, the pain consuming my body.

Another set of torments about my mum and my sister rushed into my head. They were burnt in a fire, destroying everything in its path. They were drowning in a lake, creatures capturing their feet and pulling them to the bottom, eating their flesh.

Thunder rattled the ground, its vibration making me squeeze my eyes shut. Drizzle touched my skin, washing over my wounds. I placed my hands on my head. The wind floated the leaves and dirt, hitting my face. The ground moved for the second time. This time, the grass grew longer, spiking my skin.

“Please…” I begged, my face wrinkled, the tears long dried.

My father smiled over their corpses, laughing that at last, he was rid of the leeches.