Souls of the Reaper

by Markie Madden

  “If we can find this guy and force him to release the souls, is there any way to guide this one back?” Marcell slid his gaze to Lacey as he spoke, as if to send her a subtle signal.

  “I’m not sure. There may be a way to connect with some of the older, retired Reapers. They may be able to help us, to help him. I’m afraid I cannot do anything more.”

  “Damn it!” Lacey was obviously frustrated, but she looked contrite when Marcell glared at her. “Sorry.” It was muttered, and Niall got the sense her apology wasn’t genuine. “You’ve done enough, for now.” Lacey’s voice was kind. “You need to rest.

  “Can I drive you home?” Marcell asked.

  “No, I took the subway. I’m more than happy to take it back. It will give me some time to think.”

  “Doctor Dilorenzo, I think I will try to contact your friend at Johns Hopkins before end-of-shift. I want to see if he has any new information, and tell him what we’ve discovered today. He may have some idea of how to proceed.”

  “If you’d like, I can do that for you, Lieutenant.”

  “I don’t need you to do my job for me. I can handle it perfectly fine.”

  Even through his despair, Niall noticed the too formal speech and postures when Lacey and Marcell spoke to one another, and he got the feeling there was something going on between the two of them that had nothing to do with work. As a doctor, and a Reaper, he had an innate sensitivity to nuances of behavior that often passed unnoticed by the average person. He would never invade their privacy by pressing them for answers, but put the observation away in his ‘interesting’ file.

  Niall finished his tea, handed the cup back to Marcell, then stood. “Thank you.” His voice sounded hollow to his ears. Marcell nodded. The Reaper turned for the door, but stopped at the sound of Kazz’s voice.

  “This isn’t your fault. We’ll find him, and make him pay. I don’t know how, yet, but we will.”

  He tipped his head in acknowledgment, then left the office. He was exhausted.

  ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

  Closed in her office, Lacey again picked up the phone and dialed Johns Hopkins. She hoped Dr. Ingold would still be in his office, because it was urgent that she speak with him, and she didn’t want to bother him at home. Though, if that is what it took, she would convince his secretary it was a matter of life and death. In a way, it IS a matter of life and death! Those poor souls.

  “Johns Hopkins Immortal Psychology Research Center.” If Lacey was correct, it was the same woman who answered her first phone call to the doctor.

  “This is Lieutenant Anderson. I need to speak to Dr. Ingold, immediately, if possible.”

  “One moment, please.”

  At least there was no canned music playing this time as she waited. That would irritate the hell out of me right now. She was composing her side of the conversation when the smooth voice of the doctor came on the line.

  “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”

  “I’ve got a problem. And it’s a big one. We need your expertise.”

  “I’m happy to help. Have you any new information?”

  “That’s an understatement.” Her voice was grim as she continued to brief him on what Niall learned as he tried to locate their rogue Reaper. She could hear the rustle of paper as she talked, and found herself slightly amused he was still using paper to take notes. Though, she did the same thing herself, on occasion. Technology was one thing, but the old-fashioned way still had its benefits.

  “This is very grave news, indeed.” Jaidon commented after she’d finished explaining what went on that afternoon. “Most unsettling.”

  “What the hell can we do? I feel that time is of the essence. Doctor, we need results and we need them now. I don’t want another victim on my hands.”

  “As do I, Lieutenant. However, I may not be the one to be asking.”

  “You know more about Reapers than anyone living on this planet,” she countered. “Except maybe Reapers.”

  “I see you’ve done some research on me.”

  “Not so much.” But, she explained how she found a textbook listing him as a contributing author when she went to the Baylor Medical Library.

  “Ah, of course. However, that was written a long time ago. There have been a few updates to it, but nothing recent.”

  “Anyway, we need to figure out how to find this guy. And quick. Any ideas?”

  “Would it be permissible for me to travel down to Dallas? This is a unique research opportunity.”

  Lacey thought about it for a split second. “I can’t speak for my commander. But my gut says we can’t afford to turn down help with this one. Of course, I can’t stop you from coming down here on your own. I can’t guarantee the commander will let you in on it. But I’ll give it my best shot.”

  “Excellent. I have several weeks allotted to me for research purposes, so I can leave first thing in the morning.” He gave her his mobile number in case she needed to reach him in transit.

  “I’ll run it through my commander right away.”

  She hung up the phone and sent a quick email to her boss, detailing Niall’s failed search and the possibility of adding a renowned researcher to their team, albeit temporarily. She took the coward’s way out because she didn’t want to have to explain it all over again, and she was hoping the commander had already left the station for the day. She wasn’t so lucky; Wilson popped in her office door, car keys in his hand, as she was shutting her laptop down for the day.

  “Is there some reason this team can’t catch a normal case?” He closed the door behind him. “Lieutenant, I see that this situation has become even more urgent.”

  “The top dogs were the ones who wanted a specialty unit,” She snapped, then gave an inaudible sigh. “Yes, sir, unfortunately it has.”

  “I was on my way out when I got your memo, so I thought I would stop in. Where are we at on this case?”

  Helplessly, she held her hands out to her side. “Honest answer? I don’t have a fucking clue.” She winced as she realized her brain-to-mouth filter didn’t skip the curse word. “It seems obvious that we’re closer to losing Mr. Pope. And we’re no closer to finding this bastard. It’s why I called Dr. Ingold again. He’s disturbed as well as intrigued. I figured we could use all the help we can get.”

  “I agree. When can he be here?”

  “He’s already planning to leave in the morning. I told him I couldn’t guarantee you’d agree to budget him in, but that I couldn’t stop him from coming down on his own.”

  “Which is, of course, true. Okay, Lieutenant, you have my approval. Keep me informed of any new developments, day or night.”

  “Yes, sir.” Though the only new developments are going to be more people going bat-guano crazy in this city! And I might end up being one of them.

  ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

  “Why isn’t this working?” He yelled to the empty room.

  Xiong paced through his bedroom, wishing he had something close at hand to throw. His frustration hung palpable in the air. He wished his body would stop vibrating. He wished he had Ling with him again, though several hundred years had passed since the last time he saw her. He wished the voices in his head would shut up for one God! Damn! Minute!

  “What the hell is wrong with me!” He howled.

  Taking a deep breath, he tried to ground and center, as his mentor had taught him so many years before. He thought back to the time of his training, to a time when he laughed freely, and was filled to bursting with the feeling of falling in love. Ling was his constant companion, and the first woman to capture his heart. When he felt he was settled, he tried again.

  Xiong stepped free from his body, feeling a sense of anticipation. Perhaps this time he would be successful in entering the astral realm. But the moment he detached his astral body from his physical one, the voices in his mind starting screaming again. Each time this happened, his astral self snapped with great force back into his body, causing a rush of pain and an instant migraine.r />
  After several hours of trying unsuccessfully, he gave up. His body was covered with sweat, and he was exhausted. He knew he needed food, and not just of the astral variety. Reapers extended a lot of energy in harvesting souls, and he needed a chance to recover some of the fuel his body consumed.

  Once he finished his meal, he returned to the bedroom. “This had better work. Or else, I’ll have to do something else. The power that is rightfully mine will not be denied.” With a manic laugh, he stretched out on the soft bed.

  16

  Every violation of truth is not only a sort of suicide in the liar, but is a stab at the health of human society. ~~Ralph Waldo Emerson

  He was unable to enter into a state of consciousness conducive for Reaping. He grew more desperate with each failed attempt, and so searched out another way to give himself what he wanted, no, what he needed and deserved. Xiong packed his bag carefully before closing the zipper on the antique leather.

  Xiong found it difficult to go about this now that he was forced to hunt in the physical world. The thought of looking a victim in the face was more than unnerving. And without the ability to astral project, he had no way of choosing a victim with a bright and strong soul. He felt that he was moving along with a blindfold on, being restricted to his senses of touch and hearing. He knew that what he was doing was far outside the usual capability of a Reaper, and he embraced a pompous feeling of pride that he was the most outstanding Reaper to ever have walked the planet. Soon, I may be stronger than Death himself. The thought was gleeful. Then, we’ll see what the humans think of me.

  Moving down the bustling night sidewalk, he kept his head down and wouldn’t make eye contact with any of the humans crossing his path. They were no more to him than the ants crawling across the ground. He chose this area of town well; there were numerous bars, nightclubs, and theaters along these several square blocks, and people were moving in and out of the buildings, many of them exhibiting symptoms of too much imbibing.

  One of these caught his attention. She was a younger woman, maybe in her twenties, with a skin-tight mini skirt, low cut blouse, and a voluptuous body. She had a riot of red curls framing a heart-shaped face. Xiong watched as the young woman bid good night to her friends and began to walk toward the north on knee high boots with ice-pick heels. She wobbled almost immediately, then seemed to gather herself. He could see that she was still unsteady on her feet, though, and he followed her as she made her way through the thinning crowd.

  Stopped by a traffic light, she leaned on the crosswalk pole, pulled an electronic cigarette from her bosom and puffed it. Vapor escaped her lipsticked lips, curling seductively around her. As she took another drag, she leaned her head upward in pleasure, eyes closed, vape flowing around her. In that instant, she reminded Xiong of Ling, thought it wasn’t immediately obvious why. The woman had an air of melancholy wisdom, despite her youth. Perhaps it was the reason Xiong was attracted to her. He came up behind her at the crosswalk, waiting patiently for the light to change. She checked her watch, and put her digital cigarette back into her blouse. Seconds ticked by...The light changed.

  He fell in behind her, and as she stepped from the curb, she wobbled on her high boot heels. Xiong gently took her by the elbow. “Be careful, miss. You don’t want to fall.” His voice held the slight accent of one whose primary language wasn’t English.

  The girl looked at him in surprise. “Thank you.” Her words were slurred. “You’re quite a gentleman.” The alcohol was obviously putting her in a flirtatious mood. He could use that.

  Though it was a lie, he told her, “My mother taught me manners.” He still gripped her arm loosely.

  She giggled. “A mama’s boy are you? I like that,” She purred, and leaned in toward him, her body language telling him she found him attractive.

  “She would roll over in her grave if she knew I saw a pretty young girl walking alone at night, and didn’t offer to walk her home, at the very least.”

  “You’re so sweet.” She wobbled again, but he held her up. “My name’s Cherri,” she told him, and her lips curved upward.

  “John.” Again, the lie rolled off his tongue with little effort. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cherri.”

  She hooked her arm around his waist. “I was supposed to meet my date and my friends for the movie. But he stood me up!” Cherri pouted as if she couldn’t believe such a thing happened.

  “Then I say, it’s his loss.”

  She laughed again, and leaned heavily against him. “You’re so right. Hey look, here’s my apartment. If you’re not in a hurry, would you like to come up for some coffee or something?”

  He looked deep into her eyes, wishing he had the ability to thrall like some Vampires did. It would make what he was about to do so much easier. He shifted his grip on the leather bag and smiled at her. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

  Cherri was finally quiet. Alcohol seemed to have loosened her tongue, and she jabbered on and on at such a speed that he could only catch every other word. Xiong was forced to give her two doses of the sleeping drug, after it appeared the first dose didn’t do the trick. Now, he was afraid he gave her too much. He watched her for several moments, as her chest rose and fell in time with her breath. A light rain began to fall, and he watched the water run in rivulets down the picture window across from the bed. She moaned, bringing his attention back to her.

  Xiong saw her eyes begin to move beneath her closed lids. At last, he thought. Sitting in an armchair next to the bed, he began to relax, to bring his breathing under control so he could astral project across this short distance. The voices in his head screamed in protest, but they were powerless to stop him. They could only look on in horror at what he was doing. He was the power. He was all-powerful. Maybe, with this one, I’ll be the most powerful force in the Universe, and beyond!

  As his astral body stepped away from his physical shell, he could ‘see’ the bright, shining orb of Cherri’s soul as she dreamed. The woman slipped deeper into REM sleep, and her astral body became more defined, her ethereal form slowly morphing into a replica of her physical one. White tendrils snaked out to become her arms, mirroring the outstretched position of her wrists tied to the headboard. More filaments moved outward to form her legs. The astral body had a memory of the physical body, and eventually Cherri’s astral projection, though hovering mere inches from her shell, formed a miniature of her true form.

  In the midst of her silvery soul sat a single, shiny, golden thread. It ran the length of her spirit from top to bottom, interwoven around the silver tendrils. The golden thread, the ba, was the part that Reapers kept to themselves. The ka was the portion they were supposed to return to the Universe, and it was this part that was the powerhouse of the human soul. Yes, this was what he was after. The waiting was over.

  Xiong moved his astral body to her side, his right hand outstretched. Beginning at the top of Cherri’s head, he began to pull her astral soul into himself. The voices in his head kept up an incessant chatter, begging him, pleading with him to leave her alone. But there was nothing stopping him. Nothing was strong enough to stop him. He breathed deeply, taking in more and more of her ka, while its power throbbed in his body, pumping in time to the beating of her heart. A whooshing sound ran through his ears, the pressure almost too much for his eardrums to bear. He continued to inhale until all that was left of her was the thin silver tether trailing from her body.

  Xiong returned to himself with the rush of power, felt his astral body snap back into his shell. The rush of endorphins within his brain caused an instant erection, as it always did. He remembered Ling with fondness, and recalled how many times they returned from a practice session and spent many energetic hours in bed. She was quite the imaginative lover, and as skilled in love as she was in Reaping. Now, however, she was gone, so there was one way he’d found to relieve the pressure.

  He got out of the chair, still a bit unsteady on his feet, and walked over to th
e bed. Cherri’s body still breathed, her chest rising and falling gently. Xiong straddled the unconscious woman and started rubbing his erect penis through his clothing. Waves of pleasure rippled through his body, escalating to the highest level of bliss by the hormones coursing through him. He freed himself from his pants, feeling the stiffness of his member in his hand. Unable to control himself, he masturbated, head thrown, back arched, until he spilled his seed on the bed sheets. Utterly spent, he didn’t bother untying Cherri from the bed. The drug he gave her would cause her to forget the several hours preceding the dose, so she would wake still tied to the bed, with no memory of how she got there.

  ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

  Lacey woke the next morning, sluggish because she didn’t get much sleep. A late season thunderstorm rolled through overnight, and she woke with the disorienting feeling of pressure on her body. Her big, strapping, fighting dog evidently didn’t like thunder. The poor thing was trembling with fear, and she felt sorry for him. She finally allowed Morgan to sleep on the bed with her again, though she had the distinct sense it would become a habit. Secretly, though, she was pleased the dog seemed to be bonding to her so quickly.

  She was dragging her feet going to work. Even though she knew they were under a time constraint, Lacey had no idea where to start. Should she randomly select a group of people in the city, drug them to put them to sleep, so Niall could check that they still had their souls? Wouldn’t doing so make her just as bad as the unsub? If she issued a press release, they would have to explain that a Reaper was on the loose, stealing souls of people all over the city. That would solve nothing and only serve to cause a panic.