Page 57 of Souls We Rip

My knees fell to the ground; tears slipped down my cheeks. “Forgive me, God, for thinking about him as a man. It’s too dark in here, and I cannot see anything beyond it. Give me a sign that this will end soon. Give me a sign that my feelings will stay as they are.”

With this small prayer, I shoved my feelings and regained my clarity of mind.

“You are going to be late, Ana! You better hurry, time does not wait,” Andrei urged, floating to the Goat Man’s horse.

I sighed and thanked him, wiping the tears from my eyes.

“Don’t cry, it is not your wedding,” he whispered, his voice barely a sound.

I nodded. “You’re right. It is my funeral.”

And with that, I climbed on the horse, keeping my head high and hands on the reins. Even though the piece of leather trembled between my fingers, my heart was steady.

Galloping towards my signed fate.

In the forest, there was no wind to rustle the firs’ branches, no song of the birds could be heard, and no small creatures running around in the grass.

The sun was pleasant that day. It made room for the clouds in the sky, allowing them to cover it. From time to time, it allowed me to breathe in shadows.

That was what awaited me. Shadows, darkness, evil. Things I was unfamiliar with.

The horse’s head moved with each step it took. I placed my hand on its mane, touching it lightly. The strands were thicker than my hair, but as they were maintained by Andrei, they felt soft as petals.

The tassels attached to the stallion’s mane reminded me of the holiday called Horses Easter, where the villagers would gather in the centre of the hamlet, in front of the church and show off their horses. Each horse had intricate decorations, from shawls with embroidered flowers to tassels.

“Thank you for helping me,” I whispered in its mane.

It neighed, the sound bouncing off the branches.

As the horse strutted, the firs and pines watching over us, my skin got clammy. Thoughts of my family and the last time I saw them played through my mind.

Were they well? Did Angelica marry? Would she have a nice life? What about mum?

The shadows fell across the dirt pathway, giving the woods the same sensation as I had crawling on my skin.

Dread.

The sound of drums covered the horse’s neigh, drawing my attention to the top of the hill, where the old church was.

The Goat Man’s horse climbed the hill, its hooves ripping the grass. I felt its discomfort, and I chose to climb down.

“Thank you!” I said and placed my lips softly on its head. It showed the sharp fangs in response and retreated into the shadow of a tree. Waiting.

I swallowed and turned to a mass of horns and antlers watching me closely.

From deer to impala, from ram to their master, Elk, every one of them watched me. Their eyes were hidden behind hollow skulls, their scrutiny turning my stomach upside down.

I was alone in a sea of the unknown.

Each and every one of them wore black cloaks, their skulls shining in the sun. They moved in unison, raising their hooves, as their master walked towards me. All the members in the Order had their hooves behind their backs.

“Human Ana Lazarov, you have been selected by our ally, the Goat Man, to take its place as a Soul Ripper.” His gruff voice cracked into the air, making the grass move left and right, and the trees tremble. The drums continued with a faster rhythm as I stepped further.

The melodic notes of a panpipe joined. The mix between the instruments, harsh against soft, rang through the meadow. I searched for the sound, and there was a young girl, such as me, with tears in her eyes. Her lips blew air over the pipes, without even sparing me a glance.

I felt my face burning under the Order’s scrutiny. Whispers surrounded us, their ramble filling my ears.

“She’s a woman!”