Souled Out

by Blakely Chorpenning

  With a sharp nod, I said, “Okay, I’m going to lean close now. Don’t talk and don’t hold your breath. You might feel a slight pull next to your heart, and then you’ll wake up and go home.”

  I closed my eyes, stopped thinking, and felt for his soul. My palm rested on his chest as I found that invisible weight. I breathed in the sandalwood incense. Probing through the physical realm, I slowly called his soul out, almost free of his entire body. Just that one string hung on.

  The feel of a soul is very humbling. It’s more like a feeling than an actual thing, like the comfort of visiting a place and knowing that you can shut your eyes and identify every part of it in your heart. You know it inside and out.

  Suddenly I could see him from the interior instead of just the exterior. He was honest and candid because no one was allowed to defile that inner sanctum. Except me. I was viewing previously classified secrets his soul dared not whisper to anyone, least of all himself. And there was that familiar sense of euphoria mixed with the jitters, an odd combination I would never get used to.

  Bumping into metaphysical roadblocks like a blind person in an unfamiliar room, I scavenged through curiosity and overabundance, fear and laughter, excess and shortcoming, love and hate... So much emotion threatened to overtake me when I had to steer for my purpose. Why was he here, in my chest, in my head? Who was he to them?

  In a few short minutes I learned that this man, whose soul I cradled behind my ribs, was going to be one of the most noted scientists in history. He didn’t have the nerve to fight in battles, but he had the brains to come up with some very interesting theories that would manifest into hard facts. This man would change the sun and moon for all vampires and alter medical science. He would help mold vampire and human communities into one organism. This man was rare, profoundly unique. In the span of every Cypher, one crossed very few with such detrimental, deep-rooted purpose. This was my first. I never asked for names, but I would have to. This man would be a scientific hero. If the powers that be allowed it, that is. If not, he would just be a mortal man, and I would be left feeling the loss for the world.

  I couldn’t be greedy. It took all of my strength to gently lay the soul into its proper owner. How could I think to keep such a wonder when I could never live up to half of what he might accomplish?

  He awoke slowly and stood up, uncertain. There were questions he wanted to ask. Would it be wise to answer? No, but I never had to make the decision. He refrained.

  I held my hand out to shake his. “What’s your name?”

  “Nicholas Grant.”

  “Thank you.” A name to remember, I thought. But before I could finish bathing in the presence of Mr. Grant, the shadows of pain began creeping through my body like a hunter stalking its prey.

  Oh God, it was starting.

  Chapter Five

  Why were they still here? Mr. Nicholas Grant had already been hauled outside and stashed in the car. So why were they standing in the doorway staring at me?

  “If you hadn’t noticed, your presence is no longer required.” My voice sounded lightly strangled. I was trying my best to remain calm as the pain flipped every switch in my nervous system. If only my body could understand what my mind knew, I wouldn’t have to experience such torment after every reading.

  Gabriel always left immediately when a reading was finished. This time he took a step closer. “Feel like dancing?”

  “What?”

  Without breaking eye contact, he spoke over his shoulder. “Ben, leave us.”

  My nerves fluttered. He sent Ben away. Ben was gone. Just the two of us left. This was not good. Then again, good things were reserved for other people.

  Leave!

  I couldn’t mask the growing agony much longer, the pain that would constantly plague my future and forever chain me to the past.

  His face was void of expression. “Dancing. I asked if you wanted to go dancing.”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. The past Cypher used to go out afterward. It was like this whole process energized her.”

  “Maybe she was too outgoing. I’m not a good dancer.” My brain was screaming, “Get out!”

  “It’s not that, Peaches. You struggle.” He took a step toward me. “I’ve been watching. I know this is abnormal for a Cypher. Your soul is gone, and it should know its duties, why it’s gone.” He claimed another step. “Your body shouldn’t crave the loss like it does. It should accept its freedom.”

  This man—no,—this vampire was about to figure out a secret that could not be told. Not yet. Not ever. The sting in my heart couldn’t grow much worse than the squeezing, irregular thumping it had adopted from the impact of his words.

  Was Gabriel really that observant? I should have known. He wasn’t stupid, and he was definitely malicious. I should have been nicer to him. Why couldn’t I ever just be nice? Maybe because my soul had been pried from my body, leaving me with an uncertain afterlife and a hollow space next to my heart. Things like that tend to leave a girl a tad bitter.

  If I acted normal, he might leave without the knowledge that anything was wrong. To myself, I thought, Stand up straighter. Make the usual disagreeable expression. There. Everything was fine. I could do this for a few minutes if it would be enough to make Gabriel slink away, unsuspicious.

  “Why are you wasting my time, Gabriel? If you couldn’t tell already, I’m not social. I don’t like company, especially yours. I don’t enjoy it and I sure as hell don’t invite it.”

  “Oh, I’m all too aware of your stunted social skills, Cypher. But I’m not talking about etiquette. Be a bitch for five hundred years for all I care. It turns me on.”

  As he leaned in, a kind of peace filled me as I realized I would choke to death on his cologne long before he ever discovered anything important. I breathed in the fumes, willing it to surround my organs and stifle them. That had to count as foul play, right? That smell made him a walking assassin. Actually, it wouldn’t have been half bad if he toned it down to a national threat level of yellow.

  “Are you smelling me?” His posture turned rigid.

  Damn! He thought I was coming onto him. His wild green eyes were brighter than they had been two minutes before. A good or bad thing?

  I did not want to get into this with Gabriel, but I had no alternative. Protecting a vital secret makes you do crazy things under scrutiny. A slight suicide attempt mistaken as inept flirting wouldn’t kill me, but I had my limits. And like I said, he was not a stupid vamp.

  I tried to act candidly covert. “You’ll have to drag me to court to find out, Gabriel. Are you done with your conspiracy-theory-tantrum, now?”

  An empty expression filled the space usually reserved for a nasty comeback.

  This was the nicest I had ever been to him. He didn’t know what to do. Ha! He was utterly and openly confused. A first, and I liked it. I should have tried to kill myself more often. When he was confused, he was amusing, almost likeable. And cuter.

  Dark hair veiled his face. He was too stunned to push it behind his ears, though doubtful it was tame enough to stay if he tried. Cute was not a description I had ever used for Gabriel. Then again, my body was wracked with pain I was trying to hide, so I was sure my mind was escaping through the means of a sick fantasy. Good distraction. Bad choice. I didn’t like Gabriel. I would never like Gabriel. And he tolerated my existence because, in comparison, it made his seem much livelier. Finding company together was a disgusting fairytale. So why were we standing in my front hall like we were on a first date? Bad decision-making. I shouldn’t have been nice.

  Out of discomfort, I blame-shifted. “Are you hitting on me?”

  “What? No! What the hell is wrong with you tonight?”

  A flustered vamp really is the best gift.

  “Then stop standing in my living room eying me like a nerdy teenager! Jesus!”

  “Are you hitting on me? Are you blushing?”

  No and yes. I blushed as my heartbeat sped due to a spike o
f pain. It must have been a sure sign I was about to pass out. Great. But I could use it to my advantage.

  “No. It’s from the pain of watching you leave. Let’s not keep doing this. Stop taunting me with your body. Just get out!” And with that shameful act of self-exploitation, I pushed him out the door, not missing the look of absolute shock on his face.

  I locked the door and ran to the basement to hide from my shame.

  Could the evening get any worse? How do you surpass excruciating pain, self-loathing, and embarrassment? Ah, yes, tomorrow night. I had to see Gabriel to plan next month’s prospect scheduling. Should have thought about that before my theatrical outburst.

  Double damn.

  Chapter Six

  I spent the better half of the day wandering through town trying to forget the shameful moment with Gabriel the night before. My mind was unforgiving. It was a loss I’d have to accept.

  Nothing had caught my interest lately except the two-bit moron at the bar. Caught my eye was more like it. I may have been experiencing a personal permafrost, but that part of me that was pure female enjoyed the occasional eye candy, as bitter as that candy might turn out to be. That’s why I had a personal rule to look but not touch. The guy had turned out to be a complete douche, anyway.

  A small park was close by. Luckily, it was empty, giving me a chance to rest my feet without interruption. I sat down on a bench in between the yellow slides and metal monkey bars overlooking the tennis courts.

  Could I ever be as happy as the rest of the human population in Mission seemed to be? Doubtful. The first step involved being happy with myself, and too much had transgressed for that to happen.

  The bench was hard, but I lay down to see the stars better. It always stunned me how brilliant specks of light were able to silently tell the history of the universe. They held a special power the way gypsies breathe mysticism.

  Allowing the night to consume me completely, my eyes shut before I could stop them. In a matter of minutes I was coiled in dreams. The feeling was unpleasant because I knew they would be vicious repeats. Nice things had disappeared from the menu months ago. Now only a chosen few filled my sleep, which is why I usually said a small prayer to no one particular to not dream at all. It worked most of the time, but not tonight.

  It felt so real, like always. While the visions changed, the root of my heartache remained constant. My sister and I were jumping on our parents’ bed. They never allowed it, but we were young and didn’t see the harm. The comforter was plush, wrapping around our forms as we fell time and again. Even in the dream I could smell my mom’s florid perfume in every thread of the cobalt blue monstrosity. We knew it well because the sneaking in and jumping had become a ritual in our youth. Before leaving we would always straighten the comforter, giggling that we had gotten away with it yet again.

  In reality, those times seemed to last forever. In my unconscious state it was a fleeting image as the hallway from our parents’ bedroom turned into a slide. Our laughter echoed down the slippery slope until we landed in mounds of cotton. It surrounded us until we were huddled in a cocoon, whispering secrets so close I felt the warmth of her breath on my cheek. It was safe and warm, and we were happy. Timeless.

  All of a sudden, the cotton disintegrated and I fell onto the road in front of my childhood home, smacking my elbow on oil-stained concrete. My fingers tingled, and I found myself alone.

  No longer a child in my hazy memory, I struggled to cradle my elbow and stand at the same time. That is, until I saw the broken charms on the concrete in front of me. They lay crushed, surrounded by a delicate, desecrated silver chain. The road had eaten away at it, eternally greedy. The pain in my arm was suddenly gone, replaced by a new ache in my chest. It felt like my heart was crying, but since that was impossible, it imploded. And then another shift occurred, entwining two separate incidents into one emotional mess.

  I stood in a circle. It was the circle signifying the ceremony making me the Cypher. The Members enclosed me. I was staring at the broken charm necklace at my feet like I had done when I was eleven. The portly male vampire said a few words to jumpstart the ritual, as he truly had when I was sixteen. Actually, it had sounded more like a verbal agreement:

  “As the new Cypher, you honor your predecessors with your devotion to an elite link within the chain of time. In return, this gift will link you to all. You will disclose futures and act as a guide to the light of knowledge. With no bias for good or evil, you will encrypt the world with the ability to meet its greatest potential.”

  No pressure at all for a sixteen-year-old, right?

  Countless faces stared from outside of the circle as his words collided with my body. Uncertainty and dread made me numb, just as it had that night. I searched the strange crowd for my parents, but they hadn’t been allowed to attend. Only my sister was there. Unlike true events though, I found her standing on the outside of the circle...smiling.

  I woke with a start, falling off the bench. On hands and knees I ordered myself to stop hyperventilating and slowly sat back down on the bowed wood. I hadn’t been asleep that long, but it felt like years. After taking a few deep breaths, my heartbeat resumed a regular pace.

  A crumpled envelope in my pocket demanded attention. I had been mulling it over with my hand ever since it arrived three days ago. Still unopened, of course.

  Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to read my sister’s letter. But I refused to leave it closed, abandoned like the others. Maybe this one would be different. After the nightmare, I willed the thin letter to be a savior in my dark existence.

  Slowly I ripped the paper and unfolded an anorexic letter on dainty floral stationary.

  Dear Ellenore,

  I have been busy since the wedding. Nick is expecting a promotion and we are buying a house. Mom and Dad love it. I would have sent photographs but my life is so full, I rarely have time for the small things. I’ll try, though. I know how much the small things mean to you.

  Regards,

  Myranda

  Regards? I think the letter was meant to stay wrapped in the pretty envelope and framed or something, where I could look at it any time, where I could hold it and hope that its contents resembled the sister I used to know, who I jumped on the bed and shared harmless secrets with.

  Regards... That’s a sentiment to one stranger from another when every other closing seems awkward or too personal. When had we reached that point where too personal was inappropriate? Recently, I guess. We were always close until now. My being the Cypher never bothered her. Did it now? Something was definitely wrong. My parents hated what I was. So much in fact that they hadn’t talked to or seen me since half an hour before the ceremony on my sixteenth birthday. Happy birthday to me, right?

  Snide remarks aside, Myranda had left out so much. There was a time not long ago when she would have asked my opinion on decorations—sending one boring wallpaper swatch after another—all the while wondering why no one else on earth shares her love for purple baroque embellishments. And I would laugh.

  I wanted so much from these letters. I wished for notebook pages full of good stories and memories rather than snarky, strange comments so unlike her. And these precious pages were not in my imagination. They shouldn’t have been beyond my reach because I had kept them all. Every letter she had ever sent. They used to be the only things that made me smile and laugh without fearing that such moments would ever end.

  And to bring up Mom and Dad without saying more... How were they? What had they been doing other than visiting Myranda? Had they asked about me? It was like she had done it on purpose, tell me enough to goad, but not enough to quench.

  I didn’t even know Myranda’s last name since she got married. The envelope was only signed with her first name. Not even an address.

  In another life, maybe I could have salvaged a shadow of optimism. In this one, it sent a lonely chill through my bones. Wishing for nothing more than to be with my family, I couldn’t help but let a ball of spite choke m
y tears. I was the Cypher. Other families might be proud of that so-called honor, but mine ran from it. I imagined my parents visiting Myranda, Mom making dinner, Dad talking to Nick like a son, talking about the future. One I was no longer privy to. I had become an outsider to my own heritage.

  For a split second I wondered if they kept any photographs of me in the house or if those had been banned along with the memory of my existence.

  I folded up the letter and slid it back into the tattered envelope. As bad as it was, I would keep it. I always did. I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away because that would be giving up hope that they still loved me. Bitterness stole a piece of me every day, but it was anger that threatened to fill me up until I was no longer myself, no longer human at all. Hope kept me from turning into the vengeful monster my traveling soul fought to reflect.

  After regaining some mental composure, I laid down on the bench to watch the stars again. There was no chance of dozing off a second time.

  Tall tree branches swept the sky and tickled my eyelashes as the wind blew to a little above a sigh. My eyes closed and I listened to my breath as it pushed and pulled like the surrounding wind. I had to calm down before I went to work. No, I had to calm down before my heart shattered and I dropped to the ground to invite death.

  I shouldn’t have read the letter.

  Some people might have thought I was wasting a good thing, too busy caught in a hail of self-pity to enjoy the Cypher perks. But that didn’t change the truth that nothing is free when dealing with vampires, especially when your soul is involved. My price was more expensive than I understood when I accepted my fate with a sweaty palm and a fractured smile. I didn’t realize what type of life I had accepted but, as I said, it saved the life of someone very close to me. So as much as I had grown to hate what I was, I would accept it again and again because I could never condemn someone I loved, even when I woke up every day wishing to die but too afraid of where I’d end up if I did.