Her Soul for Revenge (Souls Trilogy)

Marcus lay on a ridge, atop a cluster of stalagmites, his body bent and broken between the spikes. He was bloated, his flesh mottled unnatural colors, his eye sockets empty — plucked clean. My brain couldn’t seem to process what I was seeing. It couldn’t connect the dots between the ruined flesh I saw, and the brother I’d known.

Then it clicked, and a strange, cold numbness settled over me like ice spreading through my veins.

Something had dragged Marcus up there, and it — they — were still there.

They were as still as the stones that surrounded them. Their limbs were long, as pale as bones. Their heads — skeletal, with milky white eyes and thin sharp antlers — drooped from their long necks. They looked stretched — everything out of proportion, too long, too thin. Their legs ended in white cloven hooves, and their knees were backward, like long-legged birds. Wispy rags hung from their bodies, but the fabric looked disturbingly flesh-like.

They weren’t moving. Their arms hung limply at their sides. Only their heads were slightly swaying, so slowly that if I hadn’t stared at them for so long, I wouldn’t have noticed it at all.

I edged closer to Zane, as quietly as I could. He glanced down at me, and I mouthed silently, “What are they?”

He shook his head and pressed his finger to his lips. Message received, quiet and clear.

Keeping low to the ground, Zane crept across the cavern. He climbed up the ridge, and I raised my gun and kept my aim steadily on the creature closest to him. They still hadn’t moved, other than that subtle swaying of their heads. Zane crawled across the ridge, his eyes wide and unblinking, shockingly bright in the dark. He was right next to Marcus now, barely an arm’s length from the closest creature. Slowly, he reached over the stones and lifted Marcus from between them. My brother’s head rolled back, strange black liquid dripping from his purple, shrunken lips.

“Juniper.”

I shuddered, but I didn’t turn. The voice had come from behind me, a breathy whisper somewhere above my head. I had to ignore it. Just fucking ignore it. I held my aim as Zane began to crawl back down.

“You’ve come back to me.”

My grip on the gun tightened. I could no longer reassure myself that it was only in my head. I was in Its territory now. These dark, flooded tunnels were the God’s domain. It knew I was here. It knew.

“You’ve defied me for so long.”

There was a strange, soft sound behind me, like something slimy sliding through water. I exhaled slowly, hardly able to bear drawing another breath because of the stench. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt, and I desperately needed more air. But I didn’t move. Zane was nearly back down, Marcus slung over his shoulder, and the creatures still seemed entirely unaware. We were so close…

“You can’t run anymore.”

The wet dragging sound was right at my feet. There was pressure against my boot. Slowly, I looked down.

Thick, gray, slimy tentacles were coiling around my ankles.

I screamed, scrambling away and tripping over the uneven ground. I swung the gun wildly, using it like a cudgel to beat back the creature trying to coil itself around me. The tentacles kept coming, slithering toward me, emerging from the shallow puddles, from the mud itself. Backed against the wall, I started shooting, barely taking aim. They were slithering up my legs, gripping me, holding down my arms, covering my mouth as I tried to bite. I squeezed my eyes shut as they coiled around my head, remembering my nightmares of tentacles pressing into my brother’s eyeballs —

“Juniper!”

My eyes shot open. Zane crouched over me, one hand pinning my wrists, the other clamped over my mouth. He’d turned off my light. Only the faintly glowing mushrooms provided illumination. His eyes were wide, his teeth bared. Marcus’s body lay behind him on the ground.

There were no tentacles. None at all. There were only the pale creatures on the ridge — and all of them had raised their heads toward us.

Click, click, click.

One of them straightened its neck, with a sound like popping joints. I tried to hold my breath, my skin cold with sweat. Were they blind? Could they see us if we didn’t move? Seconds passed, as the creatures moved their upright heads back and forth, bobbing them like snakes taking aim at their prey.

Then, one of them spoke.

“Who creeps in the dark?” The voice was a harsh, low whisper. The other two clicked their teeth together rapidly, the sound echoing around the cavern. Zane was utterly still, not breathing, not even blinking.

With sudden, jerking movements and that awful sound of popping, one of the creatures scurried down from the ridge. It bobbed its head on that long, spine-like neck, clicking its teeth. “Sweet flesh. Tender, living flesh. Where are you?”

The smell of mold was so strong now, it almost overpowered the stench of the corpse. My head was light — whether from the smell, from struggling to hold my breath, or from fear, I wasn’t sure. The creature moved rapidly but with uncertainty, jerking around the cavern as the others swayed on the ridge above, trying to find us in the dark.

Suddenly, the creature stopped. Its white eyes didn’t blink, and they reflected the mushroom’s luminescent glow. A sound, like a sudden draft or breath of wind, came through the chamber. The temperature had dropped low enough that I shivered.

“The Deep One speaks,” the creature whispered, and the other two abruptly stopped chattering their teeth. “It wants the living flesh. Where…”

I shifted my gun. I had to be ready to shoot.

But that soft sound of movement was all it took. The creature’s head jerked toward me, and it screamed.

Zane jerked me to my feet, shoving me toward the mouth of the tunnel. He grabbed Marcus, carrying him as easily as a ragdoll. I stumbled in the dark, unable to see without my light as Zane easily got ahead of me. I fumbled to turn the light back on as I sprinted; but my foot caught on a stone and I went down, landing hard on my side.

With the air knocked out of me, I rolled to my back. My light shone up into the pale creature’s face, standing over me.

I fired the gun, the blast knocking it back, but only for a second. The others were right behind it, moving rapidly toward me. Even the one I’d shot shuddered on the ground and rose back up, thick black mud dripping from its head. My bullet hole was swiftly disappearing, melting back together.

I fired again and again, the creatures absorbing the slugs like they were nothing.

I tried to reload, but my hands were shaking and my bullets dropped to the ground, rolling away from me. I scrambled for them in the dark as the creatures surrounded me, their teeth chattering, their heads swaying. My light swung over them, and I realized that mushrooms were sprouting around their hooves.

“Tender flesh,” one whispered, and clicked its teeth. “The Deep One calls you.”

I found a bullet, rolled under the narrow edge of a rock. I couldn’t reach it; my hand couldn’t fit far enough. The creature stood over me as I grasped for it, reaching down a pale boney hand that dripped icy cold water —

A roar shook the walls of the mine, dislodging stones and dust. A shape flung itself over me, slamming into the creature and knocking it back. I scrambled up and away, my light swinging wildly over the chaos. It was Zane, pinning one of the monsters to the ground as the others locked onto his back, their hands gripping him so hard that bruises were blooming across his skin. He ripped at them, his claws tearing into their thin bellies and ripping out roots and mud. He ripped another off his back, gripping its skull and slamming it repeatedly against the stones until mud splattered across the walls.

With one monster twitching at his feet, the others jerked back, screeching and chattering their teeth as they retreated into the dark.

Zane turned to me, and I saw for the first time that the whites of his eyes had gone completely black, their golden color showing like a ring of fire in the night sky. He grabbed my arm and pulled me; but when I couldn’t run fast enough, he hauled me onto his back, sprinting through the cavern’s tunnels at an impossible speed. I didn’t fight him, I didn’t protest. I didn’t care if I had to be carried like a baby — whatever it took to put distance between me and those things. Whatever it took to get out of this awful place.

He let me down the moment we emerged into the cool, fresh air. I wanted to drop to my knees, just to feel the grass under my hands, but I forced myself to stand. The weight of everything was dropping onto me, harder and heavier than I could have imagined. Marcus lay on the grass nearby; Zane had gone ahead and brought him up before he came back for me.

I’d done all this for a corpse. I’d risked my life, I’d risked everything, for rotting flesh.

I swallowed down my shame. I swallowed down the tears that wanted to come, the sobs that wanted to explode out of me. Those things had ruined his body, torn it, eaten it. Marcus never deserved this. He deserved better than this.

Zane rubbed his hand over his head, before he paused to examine the deep purple bruises across his skin. His shirt had been torn, and there were ragged bite marks across his shoulder and his neck. I tried not to stare, but the extent of his injuries just kept getting worse the longer I looked. Deep gashes, bite wounds, and as he slowly clenched and unclenched his hand, I could tell his fingers were broken.

He’d come back for me. He’d…

He’d saved me.

Why the hell had he done that? Why had he bothered?

“We should move,” he said, his voice rough. His eyes were simply golden again, the darkness in them gone. “The Gollums won’t stop. They’ll keep coming.”

“Gollums?” I glanced back at the mine. “They…they knew who I was. They said the Deep One wants me…”

“They serve the God.” He limped over to where Marcus lay and dragged him up, throwing him over his shoulder again. The movement hurt him; I could see it on his face. “Gods are jealous. Gods are possessive. Just because It got your brother in your place doesn’t mean It won’t still want you. And the Gollums won’t stop now that they’re awake.” He looked at me, a frown deepening on his face. “Did you hear Its voice? Did It speak to you?”

A chill went up my back as I remembered the whispers…the tentacles curling up my legs. “I heard It. I saw It.”

He swore, turning for the trail. He didn’t say another word as we made our way back down the hillside and through the forest. When we reached the car, he put Marcus in the trunk, wrapped in the blankets we’d brought. Only when he was in the car, seated beside me, did he lean his head back for a moment and let out a heavy sigh.

“That fucking sucked.”

I giggled — then laughed. It wasn’t even funny, but I laughed because I couldn’t cry. I was exhausted, all the adrenaline drained out of me. I was grieving, I was horrified, I was confused. So I laughed because if I didn’t, I’d scream.

“Yeah, it really…it really did.” I shook my head, daring to glance over at him. “You smell awful.”

“Well, yeah, I’ve got corpse juice all over me!” He ripped off the rags that remained of his shirt, tossing it out the window as we began to drive. “Try having a heightened sense of smell around that shit.”

We kept the radio turned off, just driving with the hum of the engine and tapping of the rain. I leaned my head against the cold window, but what I wanted…what I really wanted…was to lay my head against his shoulder.

It was foolish. It was weak. I wouldn’t do it, but God, the desire for it ached. The gap between us across the seats felt a million miles wide, and it had been so long since I’d just…touched…someone.

Not for sex, not for pleasure. Just touch.

I stole a glance over at him, and his eyes met mine. He’d saved my life. He’d injured himself to save my life, and I couldn’t understand why.

“Did they hurt you?” he said.

“No. They didn’t.” Thanks to you, was what I should have said. I owe you my life. Thank you. You came back for me.

But I didn’t say it. I didn’t dare.