Page 55 of Souls We Rip

“You mentioned that that’s how you saw my father before…”

Coming back to reason, I interrupted her. “Yes. And you, your sister and your mother. All of you had pure souls, but only you in the end dared to come up to me.”

Without her, I wouldn’t have had a purpose to pursue.

The woman uncrossed her legs, drawing my attention, her porcelain skin glistening in the flames of the candles.

“You can be quite pleasant,” she murmured, watching me from under her eyelashes – long, lush, dark eyelashes.

I cleaned an invisible lint from my cloak, feeling my neck and cheeks getting warmer. “The next thing you have to know is that it will be painful.”

“How painful?”

“Very,” I stated flatly. “Depending on your choice, there will be fur breaking through your skin. In the end, it will result in pain.” I scrunched my nose, bits from my baptism coming to mind.

I locked them back in their cage and focused on the woman in front of me.

“How did you become the Goat Man?” she inquired again, her head leaning towards me.

I could have told her the story if I had remembered it. I only knew of the first souls I took or the first time I met my master. And, how my family died.

But the moment I chose to be the Goat Man eluded me.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, fixing a spot behind her with my eyes.

“Liar. It is fine if you do not want to share it with me.”

I let it at that.

She kept looking at the book, murmuring to herself that God would be with her through her pain.

Each fur thread would break one’s skin as the skull was placed on the head, blood dripping in the pool, completing the ceremony.

When she left, I didn’t notice.

My mind was still trying to conjure the moment I said yes to being the Goat Man. A lot of things were lost to me, and I always blamed the centuries I carried on my back.

But someday, I would remember it, and I would tell her my whole story.

That evening, I awoke from my slumber with sweat on my body. I didn’t remember having nightmares; it must be from the heat of the stove. I threw all the blankets aside and got up. A loud thump hit the walls of the cave. Wincing, I grabbed my cloak and left my chamber. No one besides me was left in the cave.

Walking out, the fresh air hit me with a gush. I placed the hood over my head, concealing my true nature.

Around the cave, the ghost and the woman were loading up a wheelbarrow. I had no idea we had one of those. The ghost tried to make the logs of wood float from the place where they had been cut. I tsked, reminding myself that I need him, despite him being a nuisance.

“What are you doing?” My voice thundered through the forest, splitting and glueing back the trees.

Both stopped and turned to me. The ghost’s eyes started to rotate in his head. But the woman was astonishing.

Her skin was red from the effort; her hair was tied into a bun at the nape of her neck, and her eyes were fixed again on my feet. Each time she saw a glimpse of my human form, she was left speechless. Just as in that moment.

“Stop gawking,” I ordered, feeling my skin getting warmer. “Please,” I gritted.

The woman blinked multiple times and then turned to the ghost. Her chest heaved as if in pain. The effort must have exhausted her.

Sighing, I raised my hand and placed each remaining log neatly on the wheelbarrow and sent it into the cave. Her eyes tracked the movement with her mouth open.

“Couldn’t you do that from the beginning?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.