Half Black Soul

by H. D. Gordon

  When the note from my sister had passed from Jackson’s hand to mine, something that has never happened to me before happened. Something that I had never even known was possible.

  I’d Searched the letter.

  One moment I had been standing in the center square of the school’s dormitories with Jackson, and the next I was somewhere else completely. It was like I’d been sucked into a mental black hole, my mind ripping out of my skull in the present and being deposited in some other time.

  I’d recognized the room immediately. The bed was unmade, the trash bin overflowing, and there were absolutely no “feminine touches” to speak of. I was standing in Alexa’s dorm room.

  I couldn’t see Alexa, however, and very sparse light was coming in through the windows. I noticed all of this through peripheral vision, though, because I’d also found that I had no control over my movements. And when I’d looked down at the small, scarred hand that was hastily scribbling on a sheet of paper, I saw that that didn’t belong to me either.

  No, the bruised knuckles and unpolished, chewed fingernails weren’t mine. They were Alexa’s. I’d watched as the words were scribbled hastily across the page.

  Nell,

  Please don’t be pissed, okay? I’m leaving, and no, I can’t tell you where I’m going or why I’m going because I know you would do something stupid and try to follow me. I just need you to trust me, Nell. I know what I’m doing. More importantly, I need you to be careful for me. I know you think I’m just paranoid, but I also know in my gut that things aren’t right at Two Rivers. I’m not sure what kind of danger I’ve just left you in, but you know I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t have a good reason. So, just be careful, okay? Try to act normal about my being gone. Make up a story or something. And, yes, I know you’re pissed, but I also know you’ll do this for me because you are my sister and you love me. And one more thing, be strong, Nell. You don’t know how strong you are, but I do. I know you can take care of yourself because you are strong. I’m not sure what will happen while I’m gone, but do whatever you must to keep yourself safe… and don’t trust anyone unless you know you can trust them. I’ve got to go, but I love you, Nell. I love you more than life itself.

  -Alexa

  My world had come tumbling down around me as I read the words. Alexa was gone. I was all alone. It had never really occurred to me before how much I depended on her to be there for me; to take care of me. A life without Alexa, even temporarily, was the worst thing I could imagine.

  Some part of me had known she couldn’t hear me. I had just been experiencing a flashback; a memory of the moment the letter had been composed. Alexa was already long gone. But at the time, that hadn’t stopped me from trying to scream at her while I’d watched her fold the note and stuff it in her pocket.

  It had been a soundless, throat aching scream. And, it ripped me out of the scene and sent me crashing back down to earth. The first thing I’d seen when I had regained my own vision was a blue and black flannel pattern. Jackson.

  He had gripped my arms and shaken me frantically. His face was pulled tight with concern. “Nelly? Nelly, what’s going on? Are you okay?” he’d asked.

  I had most absolutely not been okay. I still wasn’t okay. For several long moments, I hadn’t been able to find my voice. Tears had come tumbling, hot and wet, down my cheeks, and the rain that was currently falling heavier and heavier outside of the classroom had begun.

  “She’s gone,” I’d said, not recognizing the tone of my own voice. It had been all I could manage. Jackson had caught me and held me tight as I’d fallen forward, sobbing into his arms.

  And, now, here I sat; listening to some lecture that couldn’t mean less to me at the moment. Watching the rain fall, wondering where the heck my sister was. And hoping, praying, that she wasn’t getting herself into some kind of horrible trouble.

  Problem was, this was Alexa we were talking about here.

  Alexa

  The events of the next few moments were going to change me forever. The worst part is, if I could go back, I’m not sure that I would have been able to act any differently.

  The sight of the knife didn’t scare me. It should have, but it didn’t. Instead, the inappropriate feeling of admiration was ignited upon seeing the weapon. And behind the eyes of my time-slowing monster, I had a moment to study the blade.

  The handle was a polished ivory with what looked like a hand-carved surface, though I couldn’t be sure because the man’s thick digits covered a great portion of it. The large blade curved upward, in an arch, and ended in a sharp point rolled slightly inward like a trimmed talon. Combined with the serrated base down by the handle, there was something incredibly final about it. It seemed to me rather lovely, and I could only imagine how the sun would reflect off the arch of the steel, were there any sun to be seen. Instead, cold rain dripped from the claw end of it. Nonetheless, a fine weapon indeed.

  He didn’t waste any time with words. He simply held the knife up so as to make sure that I saw it, and moved to grab me.

  I had the longest split second in history to decide what to do. Apparently, I didn’t think fast enough, and what my Mother would so generously call instincts, but what I would call monster, acted for me.

  I had fully and instantaneously relinquished control; and not truly by my own volition. But, I knew in the dark side of my soul, the side that could recognize a kindred spirit, that this man meant to do bad things to me; that he had almost definitely done those same despicable things to other girls like me. Well, other girls that seemed like me; small and weak and…. helpless. And, unfortunately for him, he was horribly mistaken on two out of the three.

  So the low roundhouse kick was naturally aimed at his right leg; the weak point that my rather observant monster had pointed out earlier. And what I knew had to be a crooked, crazed smile came to my lips when I heard the essential ligaments in his right knee rip into two worthless pieces. To his credit, he didn’t cry out, and for a moment, nothing at all registered on his face.

  Then, rage, pure and ferocious, seized his features. He shouldn’t have even still been standing; his leg was surely destroyed, but he was close enough to me that he decided to slash out with the beautifully crafted knife. In my current manner, taking the weapon from him was as easy as snatching a dazed fly from the air. The blade looked much better in my hand than it had in his. My left eye twitched once more, and my satisfied smile stretched upward still.

  I danced back once I had the weapon, too swift for any human to move. In one final attempt to reach me, at last his ruined knee failed him, and he fell downward, hard and fast, disturbing the rainwater that had settled all around him.

  His palms caught the concrete before his protruding stomach could, and his head snapped forward with the impact. His body shook, trembled for a moment, and combined with his current position, the sight reminded me of a cold, wet dog left out in a storm. The beast inside of me giggled and rejoiced in excitement; as pleased as an underprivileged child given a birthday present. Above us, the thunder was cheering out as well.

  When he brought his misshapen, dripping head up and met my eyes, the pain from the shattered ligaments had finally registered on his hideous face. The expression was so agonized, that it seemed to me absolutely beautiful. In that moment, as I stood powered by the wicked thing I always fought so hard to suppress, I very much enjoyed watching his pain; just as surely as he would have enjoyed watching mine. A bubble of excitement and anticipation bloomed inside of me. I felt my fingers tighten slightly around the ivory in my fist.

  When he spoke, his voice was as displeasing as the rest of him; more the growl of an animal than a sound associated with a human being. “You stupid little bitch,” he snarled. “What the hell areyou?”

  I circled around so that I stood behind him, yanked his head back by the small patch of hair on the back of his warped skull. A guttural, nasty sound escaped him. I placed his own blade against his throat as I bent his neck back to an unnatura
l angle, and leaned forward a little so that I could see his eyes. At last, I saw it. The thing the corrupt part of my being had been begging for; the thing my monster cherished and adored so fiercely: fear.

  What truly horrifies me is that I didn’t even consider fighting it; the “right” thing to do was never presented by my mind. Later, I would tell myself over and over that I had saved other girls by doing what I did. Later, I would say that it was for the greater good, though I would never fully be able to believe that.

  Right then, in that life-changing, rapid moment, in a cold, flat voice that wasn’t quite mine, all I said was, “I’m the same thing you are,” and drew the blade across his throat.

  Nelly

  By about halfway through my second period class, I was pretty much freaking out. I hated sitting there when I knew that Alexa was out doing something absolutely crazy. No, I didn’t know exactlywhat she was doing, but I knew my sister. And either way, leaving the security of Two Rivers was a dangerous thing in itself right now.

  Also, too many emotions were roiling inside of me; ugly emotions. There was loss; one of the worst things there is, in my opinion. But, there was also a little fear, which instantly led to shame, then, anger. Anger at myself. Anger at my sister. I think the anger is what does it.

  The times that I become too upset or stressed out about something are usually when I do things that I don’t mean to do. This morning with the letter was different; that was new to me. The thing that was happening currently I had done before, but only like twice.

  I called it “blanket Searching”, and since I knew I was the only one who could do it, I figured I could name it whatever I pleased. I gave it that name because it was literally like my mind turned into a blanket that stretched out and covered all the souls in the immediate vicinity. Mass Searching would be another way to describe it.

  The problem is, it isn’t supposed to work like this. Searchers are only supposed to be able to Search one person at a time, when making physical contact. The good ones can skim the surfaces of a soul without touching the person, and only if that person happens to be weak-minded, but any more would be impossible. The things I can do are unheard of, and if anyone here at Two Rivers were to find out why I can do them, something really bad would happen. They would kill me.

  But, I couldn’t control it. There seemed to be a muscle in my mind that liked to stretch out every once in a while; an entity separate, and yet part of me, that did whatever it pleased when my “right” mind was too distracted or distressed to rein it back in. I hated times like this; there are some secrets that are better kept as just that.

  But, I would be lying not to admit that there is just something captivating about knowing so many souls at one moment. That didn’t matter, though. It didn’t make it right.

  So, for about twenty minutes, I just pushed the unwanted information out of my head as soon as it entered. It wasn’t easy; like I said, there is something intriguing about deep secrets, and everybodyhas them, but the reality of my own life at the moment was more interesting to me than my classmates and teacher’s life.

  None of their issues mattered. Alexa was gone.

  So, as I was shoving away the emotions and thoughts and histories of the people around me, it took me a time to pick-up on the strange uniform undertone. But when I did, it pulled my attention from my own unhappy thoughts, and sent me digging through souls in the room like a raccoon in a trashcan. The tainted part of my mind that controls these involuntary Searches was intrigued.

  The two times that I had blanket Searched, like I was now, were both before I came to Two Rivers a few weeks ago. The first time, only Alexa and my Mother had been in the room with me, and I already knew them both so well that nothing I learned came as a surprise. The second time had been in a classroom of my peers; human peers. And, that day I picked up so much disturbing knowledge that I’d come home crying. Alexa had comforted me. She’d made me laugh when she asked, with the most serious expression I’ve ever seen on any ten-year-old’s face, who had done it. I’d stopped laughing when she’d added, with just as much conviction, that she would kill them. But, I’d felt better.

  There was something unusual here, though. Something small and heavily guarded, yet instinctively important. All the souls that my mind was reaching at the moment felt one thing in common underneath all of the other emotions that were occurring in their minds: fear.

  I spent the rest of the class period Searching through each of them one by one. I scanned all past memories. I checked every avenue that their souls had to offer, peeked in every closet, and behind every closed door. By the time the bell rang, I was exhausted, my nose running and my forehead uncomfortably damp. But I had learned two things: all of these people were scared of something, and other than irrelevant preferences, all they had in common was that they were all Searchers, and they all lived in Two Rivers.

  Maybe I should have listened when Alexa tried to tell me that something was horribly wrong here.

  Alexa

  I stepped back, closed my eyes, and breathed in deeply. My skin began to tingle in the most pleasing of ways. My tongue flicked out across my upturned lips. My incisors were elongated into fangs, and behind my lids, I was sure that my eyes had gone wolf-gold as well. These things seemed all too appropriate; all the beasts that were mixed together in my blood were happy as clams. A euphoric high raced its way through me, and I rocked back on my heels. When I opened my eyes again, I took in every detail.

  The man trembled, right hand clutching his throat, streaming crimson over his fingers and down his forearm, causing the thick hair there to follow the direction of the gushing red streams. The falling rain met the blood in mid-air, on skin, clothing and concrete. He crashed to the ground, making a noise like a rough, wet slap. His left hand clenched into a fist by his side. His body began to twitch. The toes of his tan work boots bobbed and scraped on the ground making frantic thud, scrape, thud, scrape, thud noises. His head fell to the side; one pudgy cheek mushed against the pavement. The single black eye that I could see was bulging out of its socket, as though some almighty fist were squeezing the bottom half of him. Red foam bubbled from his mouth like a washing machine overloaded with too many cups of detergent. Around him, the settled rain diluted the blood that spilled. And, finally, he ceased moving.

  I stared down at him, intoxicated with whatever it was that the act of Taking Life did to me. I felt no regret, no fear, no shame or shock. I felt nothing other than the magnificent force of energy flowing into me. Later, I would come to the conclusion that I had been absorbing what must have been the man’s energy; the thing that gave him life. Right then, it couldn’t have made a difference.

  This time, I didn’t shake or shiver at the sensation. I embraced it, ushered it inside and gave it quarters. It was kind of like getting a sip of the world’s most delicious smoothie, and then slurping and slurping until the whole of it was gone, willing the splendid liquid to merge with my veins and run into my bloodstream, never pausing for breath; the air no longer a priority. Only, it was nothing like drinking a smoothie. Really, it was unlike anything else at all.

  The feeling lasted a little longer this time, and my hand didn’t tremble at all when I held the handle of the knife with the bottom of my shirt and methodically removed any prints. I dropped it to the ground and stuck the key in the car door, after nudging the big man aside with my tennis shoe. His weight seemed like nothing; like I was pushing aside a pile rags rather than a full grown man. I opened the door and slipped into the seat. Then I put the car in drive and pulled slowly out of the parking lot. No one ran out to stop me.

  I settled back on the leather seat and lit a cigarette, pulling the smoke as deeply into my lungs as was physically possible. My head felt pleasantly light; my body on the edge of euphoria. The best of it had passed, but the lingering feeling had some mystical quality in itself. A thought struck me then, somehow seeming like the first one that was mine for a long time.

  Killing the Lamias hadn
’t felt like that. Similar, but not quite like that.

  I drove onward, listening only to the sounds of the highway racing under Tommy’s expensive tires. I didn’t look, but I knew some new design had appeared on my already silver riddled arm; another death mark that the people at Two Rivers had admired so fondly. By the tingling sensation, I would say that whatever it was had made its home just above the crook of my elbow. Somehow I knew it would not be a lily; the flower that had appeared for each Lamia I’d killed. That had felt different too.

  Three hours later, as I drew nearer and nearer to my destination, the high I’d gotten from killing the man had subsided. But, no other emotions had returned to take its place.

  Nelly

  Lunchtime is usually my favorite part of the day. But, a big reason for that is because it is when I get to see Alexa. At Two Rivers we attend separate schools that, as the Queen would say, “cater to our races”, but all of the schools shared a lunch in one enormous cafeteria in the center of the main campus. So, for the last few awful weeks, this had been a guaranteed time I’d get to see my sister. Right now, it was just depressing, and my company was starting to annoy me.

  Well, not Daniel, my boyfriend. But Jackson and Tommy, who had oddly enough decided to have lunch at the same table in my sister’s absence, were skulking and shooting rude glances at each other. Nobody spoke except Daniel, but after a few attempts at making conversation, and receiving only grunts and shrugs from Jackson, and smirks and rolled eyes from Tommy, Daniel took a hint and gave up.

  About midway through the lunch hour, I decided I couldn’t take it. Both Jackson and Tommy were pissed off. I wasn’t too much happier myself. Their souls were practically shouting out to me. Instead of Searching them, which would have been way too easy for me right then, I did something I rarely do. I spoke my mind.