Page 36 of Souls We Rip

The images my mind conjured were not pristine, with its skull hurled in the Danube and its body following. My thoughts were impure. I quickly dipped my head down, prayed for my redemption and whispered three times ‘Lord, have mercy’ under my breath.

“You can come on your own accord, or I will force you,” the Goat Man said, its voice sending goosebumps down my skin.

Finishing my prayer, I sighed. There was no escape from it and its wretched contract.

I ignored the sensation of its sigh on my face and strolled back, holding my head high and my shoulders straight.

“And please tell me, woman,” it began, waiting for me at the old church, “how would you fight back?”

The sheepskin coat draped itself around my shoulders.

With each step I took towards it, its voice became louder. “How can you say that you’ll fight back, when you couldn’t fight your father? At least, his wrath you could have escaped. Mine, not so much.”

I felt a scratch inside my neck. The words that I wanted to throw in its face were not kind. How did this creature manage to pull my darker side to the surface? A side of me that never showed itself.

Instead of voicing my real thoughts, for which I would repent later, I made a threat. “Goat, what will happen to you if I fail in collecting these souls of yours? Would you die?”

“So will you,” came its retort, but I heard the question in his voice.

“Yes, but I am not afraid of death.”

In a few days, my heart would be stained by the blood of the first soul I would take. Therefore, I had to accept my penalty and God’s judgement.

I sidestepped the brute and walked with my head high.

The sky was getting darker, the humid air replaced by freshness. Shiny speckles began to stain the deep blue vault, making me think of the times when I would stay with Angelica and debate if the sun and moon were like us.

She the light and me the dark.

Oh, how I missed her.

An arm grabbed me by my waist, pulling me towards a soft cloth. “Your ignorance would bring us doom.”

The voice rambled on my skin, goosebumps appearing on my delicate spots. I looked down, the warmth of the arm comfortable on my body.

And there they were.

Stone stairs stretched in front of me, the brisk gust of air chilling my face, drowned in darkness.

Slowly, the arm peeled from my body, its warmth leaving me. I watched its motion, surprised that instead of a hoof was a pale hand. Five long fingers were splayed over the dark fabric, the nails covered in bruises.

I averted my gaze; more questions would arise and remain unanswered. I swallowed and descended on the cold stone.

All of a sudden, the way down was illuminated by torches, their flames too close to me. One by one, I threaded carefully not to fall over the narrow stairs.

My legs were unsure, but I willed myself to hold my head down, blocking the image of its hand on my waist.

Because earlier, it was not a goat. Its hand was a human hand. A powerful hand, which managed to pull me without effort.

What was happening?

Another thing I had noticed was that instead of a clang of hooves, I couldn’t discern another sound other than the one of my opinci stepping on the stairs.

As the mystery of the creature behind me intensified, we descended into the most enchanting cave.

In the middle of the chamber was a large pool of crystal-clear water. The light of the torches reflected in it, creating a fairytale before my eyes.

“What is this place?” I asked, looking at the ceiling, water dripping into the pool like summer rain. The gentle splash of the droplets was more than inviting to bathe in the water and join their shimmer.