Page 21 of Souls We Rip

I was supposed to be dead.

That is why I traded my soul for my father’s. The Goat Man should have killed me and taken my soul.

So, why wasn’t I in Heaven?

In search for answers, I went out through the hole, the rock cut to create this passage. My fingers grazed the wall, and the burn I had instantly made its presence known.

With both of my hands on the walls, I tried not to cut my feet on the floor. I tiptoed on the hard stones, but it pinched me from time to time, making me wince.

“You’re up!”

I swirled around, my hair touching my heels.

A ghost.

A ghost was in front of me.

There were stories about them. Muroi. They couldn’t exist.

It was being said that they would draw our energy and would let us join them in the aftermath. I cursed myself for not having any means of protection. Holy water would have dispelled its sight. I should have slept with holy basil under my bed to wake up from this nightmare.

Or Hell.

Maybe this was my kind of Hell. To roam with creatures of the night, not burning in the fire pits.

Usually, the muroi were drawn as babies who died very young, before getting baptised. It is said that on the night of Christ's Resurrection, they wept and asked for their baptism.

But the ghost in front of me was no baby.

It was something that resembled a young boy, his clothes shinier in the candlelight.

My eyes widened, and my pulse pounded in my ears. I tried to run, but the stone was hurting my feet. My skin broke, the pain clogging my thoughts. As I took a step, I stumbled on one of the rocks.

Prayer was my only escape then. I prayed for my soul, asking God where He sent me.

“There are no gods here, girl! Only me and my master.”

I kept my eyes closed, my breathing accelerating. My lips pursed, even though I had so many questions rambling in my head.

“Woman,” I whispered. That was the only rational thought I had.

“Let me help you, woman,” the ghost jeered at me.

My hands sprang into action, and I crawled, with my eyes still closed, until my head hit a wall. The pain was too vivid for me to be dead.

“Careful now, my master would not have you hurt from your stupidity.”

I clutched my chest with my hand, and then I realised. Heartbeats pushed my hand back and forth.

I was alive, and this place was my nightmare.

Feeling a cold breeze on my face, I sniffed. The smell of food filled my nostrils and reminded me that I still needed to eat.

Because I was alive and not dead at the hands of the Goat Man.

The ghost came closer, something besides air touching my body. I clenched my muscles, murmuring that it could not exist.

“Oh, we do. We roam the Earth, but mortals think we are strigoi or muroi. I am not going to lie, there are those too, but not in here.” The ghost floated near my naked feet, his body bobbing up and down, air swishing.