Page 84 of Souls We Rip

At once, I thought about Angelica and our promise. She would have visited the mountains, and I would have enjoyed the sea. Of course, we would both experience each other’s dreams. Sighing, I switched my gaze from the water to the sole house on the beach.

It was painted with a light blue, a colour I haven’t seen being used in our area. The roof was tall, almost reaching the sky. It was covered in hay, just as my grandparents did with my former home. The windows were small, the wooden frame eaten by time.

A child was running around it, spreading sand with his little feet. His mother came from inside, warm bread in one hand and an axe in the other. The smell of the fresh bread reached my nose, but my eyes stayed on the axe.

The mother showed the child the food, and his eyes popped, wetting his lips. Poor child, he knew nothing more than hunger. The Mirror showed me how he was fed scraps of food while his mother indulged in various meals.

As she handed him the bread, the axe fell into the child’s stretched hand.

Instead of the child’s skin, my scythe took the blow. I swung the blade of my weapon and mirrored what the Goat Man had done to my father. The woman's right hand flew from her shoulder.

With one move, I sent the axe into the middle of the sea. I took advantage of her astonishment as she saw my eyes, and I kneeled in front of the child. As soon as I met his gaze, something hit me in my hollow chest.

“Go play far away from here, boy!”

My voice drifted over the sand, showing the child where he should wait for me.

I glared at the woman kneeling in front of me, her eyes watching the sand between her fingers.

“Why?” My voice rang through her head, her eyes moving from her missing arm to me, blood flowing on the sand.

When she noticed my scythe, instead of fear, her face scrunched up from rage.

“He does not deserve to live!” she shouted, her face turning red.

“What gives you the right to decide?” I asked, gripping my scythe tightly.

“I made him. I kill him.” She balled her fists. “I will kill you!” she yelled, rising on her feet.

Remembering that I do not have the skull with me, I darted, trying to slow her movements. Her legs were faster than mine, as if she felt no pain, her remaining hand almost catching me by the hood of my cloak.

“Evil beats in his heart! I will breathe easier when he is gone!” she screamed at me, blood still dripping after her.

“How about not breathing at all?”

I avoided her hand, and this time, my scythe swished on her back, grabbing one of her lungs. I pulled it out with it attached, bile climbing to my neck. The itch that a new soul was taken made itself present.

The sixth swirl in my eye.

Thinking that Tiberius deserved these two last souls, I dispelled the thought of breakfast, lunch and dinner.

I stepped up to the boy who was building something out of sand and water.

I sent the scythe away with a thought, so I wouldn't frighten him.

My pulse quickened, replaying in my mind what life that boy had. He was beaten, secluded, flogged and spat on by his mother, his father having passed away in the last war.

I gathered it wasn’t easy for her. The pain of losing her husband and having to take care of a child alone must have been difficult.

But never treat a child as one would treat dirt.

I sat next to him on the sand. His amber eyes watched the sand fall through his fingers. It settled on the citadel he tried to build with salty water.

“Is she gone?” he whispered in the gentlest voice I ever heard.

If I had a heart, it would be filled with sympathy for him.

“Yes, she is,” I said out loud, my hands fiddling with each other. “Are you alone in the world?”