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Anastaciaalwaysfelttheeyes on her first.
“Please, just go away," she pleaded to the dark soul who followed her from Jackson Square. The desperate prayer went unanswered as her back pressed into the brick wall of the alley, the rough crags of brick pulling on her shirt at her shoulder.
Her eyes were clenched shut; her ears strained to hear the groaning soul. The hope that he would stagger away faded with every second.
She refused to open her eyes. If she didn’t lock eyes with him, he wouldn't follow. His soul would seep back into the shadows untiltheycaught up to him.
Theyalways caught up to the ones with no unfinished business.
“Yo-ung la-dy,” a choked voice called out from around the corner, echoing down the alley. A thick, bubbling cough followed. His voice was muffled by the black muck sliding from his mouth. Part of her felt pity for the man. Drowning was always a hard way to go.
The uncomfortable pressure of his stare on her made her shift. “The-re you are.”
Ordering her eyes to stay closed, she blindly jammed a button on the side of her phone, hiking the volume of her music up to stop his voice from seeping through. A deep wail ripped through the air as her music cut out completely, the phone drained of power. The oppressive presence folded over, prodding at her lips to give entry.
“Let. Me. In.” The voice was so close now, Anastacia could hear the intermittent gurgles punctuating his words.
Her lips pursed tighter as her mind screamed for help. Feet planted firmly on the ground, hands pushed against the brick, she attempted to ground herself within the physical world.
She had not come all the way to New Orleans to be taken over by a dark soul.
With a breath through her nose, she opened her eyes in time to see the soul’s expression morph from pride to fear.
Jerking back from her, the dark soul flailed into the deep shadows on the opposite side of the alleyway. Reaching toward her, his slick arms waved just short of her face. His mouth opened, attempting a wail that the unrelenting torrent gushing from his mouth transformed into thick, goopy bubbles.
Pitch-black hands stretched out of the shadows, claws shredding through the dark soul, hauling the pieces back into the shadows.
Once the dark soul was fully consumed, a bulbous head emerged from the absolute darkness and unblinkingly stared at her. Light reflecting off the completely black eye was the only way she could tell they were fixated on her. She nodded to the creature in a curt show of gratitude. Its eyes narrowed and the creature sank back into a darkness deeper than the shadows around it.
Then nothing.
She was alone.
Her head fell back against the bricks as she released a long, slow breath.Theirtrue name was never said, never written in any book. She called them "Gatekeepers.” It seemed to fit, andtheyhad no disagreement with the term as far as she knew.
The soul the Gatekeeper reaped didn’t need help; it wanted another shot. As much as she struggled with her life, she wouldn’t give it up to some dark soul who screwed up theirs. If it wasn’t for the Gatekeepers removing the dark souls from the physical world, she might be a lost soul herself. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.
Freezing cold draped over her, changing her breath to mist. It was a sensation she thought she left behind. A whisper caressed her heart— a fragment of the soul of someone dear. A fragment carried by a demon. “Don’t let them take you. Save yourself… for me.”
“Stop it,” Anastacia hissed. Her eyes examined the sky to ignore the thing at her side. It always came when she was spiritually weak. And when she was alone. It hoped Anastacia would give in to it just likeshehad. It couldn’t force her. It had to be invited.
She wiped at her face to hide the tear in her eye. “Stop using her voice. I know what you are.”
“You still have no idea.” A chuckle echoed in the small alley, a mix of the familiar and something darker.
“You being chased, baby?”
Anastacia whipped her head to see the serene face of a black woman poking her head into the alley. She must have seen Anastacia duck in. The woman pulled at the shawl hanging from her shoulders over her simple black dress as she looked over the scared younger woman. A single eyebrow arched up toward the twisted bandana over her hair as she waited for Anastacia to speak.
“You can say that." Anastacia eyed where the voice had been, to the shadows the Gatekeeper dragged the lost soul into.
There was a long pause from the woman as she scanned the shadows before turning back to Anastacia.
“You got the sight, don’chu?”
“Got it? Yeah…” A halfhearted chuckle fell from Anastacia’s lips. “Control it? No.”
The woman laughed in a loud, booming tone. Anastacia jumped at the sheer volume.
