The Soul Catcher

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The Soul Catcher Page 10

by Rowanne Carberry


  “Maria, what do you want?” I’m instantly suspicious; she’s done nothing to help me but give me the drinks to make me feel better. The fact that she helped Mitchell force me into doing things I never wanted to do, doesn’t really endear her to me either. I shift from one foot to the other, feeling uncomfortable that we’re alone together.

  “Your mark — can I check something on it?” she asks, moving closer to me.

  I want to move back, but make myself stay where I am. “Why?”

  “I’ve only ever read about a Zibu mark. Pressing a little bit of my magic into it might help me to understand it more.” She puts her head to one side. “I might be able to glean some more information about what it is we’re dealing with.” She steps closer again.

  I’m considering it, but I know that’s not her only reason. She could have asked that downstairs, where the others were, and a certain one of them would probably have made me.

  “What else do you want?” I ask her.

  As seems the norm now — she takes a last step and invades my personal space that little bit more. Everyone seems to be doing that nowadays. Without thinking, I put out a hand to stop her from touching me, but she puts her hand up at the same time and we touch, skin to skin.

  An operating theatre flashes into view. Maria is lying on the table. There’s a terrible buzzing sound in the room. There’s shouting. It sounds calm but urgent. Equipment is being moved out of the way, crashing metal joins the buzzing.

  “Clear,” someone shouts.

  I jump as Maria’s body flails on the table.

  “Charging.” I look to see someone in full scrubs with paddles in their hands.

  “Clear.”

  The paddles hit Maria’s chest and her body flails on the table again. The machines all join in with a cacophony of noise.

  Finally, they all step back from the bed and begin switching off the machines, one by one, until the only noise left is the breathing of the people in the room.

  “Time of death, 15:03.” One of them reaches forward and pulls a cover over Maria’s face.

  I come back to the present with a start and just stare at Maria, waiting for an answer.

  “It’s cancer,” she tells me. “There’s nothing they can do about it. We’ve got surgery scheduled, but I already know there’s nothing that can be done.” She reaches out a hand and places it on my chest, I tense but the scene doesn’t play agian. “You’re not the only one that has visions you see, and you, you’re going to play an important role.”

  Stepping away from me, Maria leans against the wall. She looks as though the life has been drained from her. “I’m sorry about everything we’ve… I’ve done. There were reasons I couldn’t — can’t — tell you them all.” She looks down at the ground to hide the pain across her face. I don’t quite know what to do.

  “When this is over, there’s going to be time for us to sit down and explain a few things, and I’ll help you get your life back.”

  Without looking at me again, she turns away from me and walks back down the stairs. Trying to process the information, I head into the bathroom and prepare myself for the night head.

  * * *

  A phone rings. Everyone starts looking at phones, putting them down on by one as they realise it’s not theirs. All except Mitchell. He’s staring at his screen, face pale and drawn. He looks like he’s aged twenty years in the space of a minute.

  “What is it, boss?” Maria asks.

  Instead of answering, he slides the phone into the middle of the table and we all stand up and crowd around to look.

  My hand flies to my mouth and smothers the cry that’s trying to escape. On the screen is a little girl lying in the middle of a floor, hands tied together in front of her and a trail of blood down the side of her face.

  The phone vibrates again in the middle of the table, making us all jump. No one wants to touch the phone; it’s as though it’s turned toxic.

  Finally, Farah reaches over and opens the new message, getting rid of the picture. Up on the screen comes a new message. Farah reads it out for those of us that can’t see it.

  “Midnight tonight at the paper factory. Don’t be late. Don’t be early. Bring the little vision girl. Nessa and I are waiting.” She closes the message and locks the phone before placing it back in the middle of the table.

  We sit in silence before springing into action.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I don’t like this plan. I don’t like it all. Why did I agree to this?” I ask.

  No one answers me. I’m currently sitting in a SWAT van on my way to the factory. There are two vans. One’s full of an actual SWAT team, Mitchell, and Ripper. The other has me, Maria, Aidan, Farah and a few others that I’ve not been introduced to. Maria’s mum is apparently already there, setting things up for the barrier spell.

  I have absolutely no idea how in the hell they have managed to get us along on this with a swat team involved and not had to tell them anything. Well, I’m guessing they told them something; kind of like how they’ve managed to get us into crime scenes without the proper credentials.

  I’d love to know who’s pulling the strings. I take that thought back instantly. I hope to never meet that person — I have a feeling that once I’ve met them, there’s going be no getting out of this little crack team of supernatural investigators, and I’m really missing that call centre right now.

  The van comes to a stop. My heart starts pounding. I rub my palms on my trousers, trying to get rid of the sweat that’s suddenly built up on them.

  “Guys, I don’t think I’m ready for this.” I jump up, wanting out of the van, feeling claustrophobic. “Seriously, we’ve not thought enough about this.”

  I’m pacing when Aidan reaches out and grabs my hand. I start to panic and pull my hand away when I notice he’s wearing gloves.

  “Just breathe deeply, chick,” he tells me.

  The doors open and I’m relieved. I run into the fresh air and straight into the arms of Mitchell. He pulls me around the side of the van out of sight of everyone else.

  “If you fuck up, if you try to run, if you try to ruin this for us.” He lowers his voice and shakes me to make sure I’m looking at him. “Then I will fucking ruin you.” Taking something out of his pocket he unfolds a picture and holds it up to my face. I look at the picture, my eyes going out of focus for a moment. When they finally do focus I let out a strangled noise I’ve never heard before. If I thought my heart was beating abnormally before, it was nothing to how it is right now.

  “I’ve been busy, you see.” He leans down and looks me straight in the eyes. “I’ll be watching you.”

  Just before he can pull back, I lean my head back and smash it into his face. He pulls his hands back into a fist and smashes it into my face.

  I see stars and then everything goes black for a few seconds.

  Coming back round, it’s to see Ripper with his hand wrapped around Mitchell’s throat.

  “Don’t ever touch her again.”

  I roll over and spit out the blood that’s pooled into my mouth. Gritting my teeth, I stand up. I know this is going to hurt in the morning, badly, due to the fact that right now it’s quite numb.

  Remembering Farah’s words, I allow myself a grin of satisfaction. Draggin myself to my feet, I pull Ripper off him.

  “He’s not worth it,” I spit through gritted teeth.

  We walk around the side of the van back to where everyone else is gathered.

  “My tracking spell kicked in again. It is definitely showing as being in that building,” Maria is saying to the rest of the team. “Everyone needs to be aware that this a trap.” She’s in a role I’ve not seen before. Since getting out of the van she’s in full SWAT gear and has her police ID hanging from her neck.

  “Everyone will be paired with a member of the SWAT team. You do as they say. We all know the plan so get in there and execute it.”

  Someone is walking up and down the line, handing out bulletproof ves
ts. The lead ball is instantly back in my stomach. My heart is racing ten to the dozen again, my palms are sweating. When they reach me, I grab a hold of my vest and start to pull it on as everyone else is doing.

  Ripper comes up and helps me pull myself into the new gear. He’s already in his, looking every inch the police detective he did when I first saw him. He hands me a holster.

  “Do you know how to put this on?” he asks me.

  “Not a clue.”

  He kneels down in front of me and straps the holster around my inner thigh, and then holds up a gun I instantly recognise as the one that had been hidden in the bag I packed.

  “You know how to use this; I take it?”

  “Of course I do,” I tell him.

  He slides it into place and then stands up, making final adjustments to the gear holding me in place. I know it’s not exactly the right moment for it, but I want one last good thing before we go into the building.

  I wrap my arms around him and kiss him for all I’m worth.

  “Stay safe,” I tell him before walking away. I don’t look back, knowing that, if I do, the final bit of resolve that’s keeping me here will melt away. I head over to Mitchell.

  “Guy with the number five on his back,” he tells me before I’ve even asked the question. I just head on over to the person I’m told.

  “You with me?” a gruff voice asks from behind a mask.

  “Yup.” I try to infuse some confidence into my voice but it comes out wavering.

  “Stay behind me, do what I say, and keep a hold of my shoulder. When we get in there, I’ll tell you when to let go and then you go do what you’ve got to.” He turns to look at me. It’s disconcerting not being able to see his face, but I manage to squeak out that I understand.

  Looking around, I see that everyone is geared up and partnered up. We start moving towards the building.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The moment the last pair is through the doors, they close behind us with a resounding bang. A tremor passes over me and the air grows thicker and thicker. It’s hard to catch a breath. Just as I think I’m about to pass out, the atmosphere lightens. Another tremor runs through me as I realise that I’m now trapped inside the building.

  There are mounds of paper and boxes littered throughout the room. The ones that had escaped a fire just left there to rot, adding a smell of decaying cardboard to an already rank atmosphere. It smells like a house that has never had any windows or doors open. The walls are stained with mould, its paint flecking off to show wet brick underneath.

  Quietly moving through the building, I keep one hand tightly gripped on the shoulder of the man in front of me. A bang to the left makes me jump and I nearly let go, but keep a hold at the last second.

  I’m getting frustrated with how slowly we’re going. There’s a little girl in there with no one and we’re just pussyfooting around to follow procedure?

  Sneaking a look around the man in front of me, I can see the further in we get, the darker it gets. The walls are writhing with shadows. The mark on my chest starts burning and I realise that the shadows are literally writhing —they’re alive.

  I swallow down a lump in my throat and force my feet to keep moving into the darkness. Tapping my partner on the shoulder to signal I need to tell him something, we slow down. Opening my mouth to say what I fear about the shadows, I’m silenced before I begin by a scream in the distance.

  Forgetting all about stealth, the group surges forward. I lose touch of the man in front of me as he runs into the shadows.

  I’m frozen in place. A ghost seeps out of the shadows, lighting up the room. It comes closer to me and for a second I think it’s going to float through me and I tense, ready for the pain, and close my eyes. It doesn’t though. Opening my eyes, I see the ghost is just standing in front of me. A beacon of light.

  “You should leave,” it tells me.

  I should. I should leave now. I’m sure I can think of an excuse to get out. I don’t owe any of these people anything. Turning around and following the compulsion to leave, I take a step towards the lighter end of the room when I hear another high pitched scream. I can’t leave the kid I think to myself. I spin back on my heel and look straight at the ghost.

  “I can’t. I need to help.”

  It gives me a considering look and nods.

  “Follow me,” it tells me.

  Quickly, the ghost heads into the shadows towards the sound of the screaming. Keeping pace with the ghost, so as not to lose the light that’s guiding the way, I let the darkness swallow me.

  It feels like I’ve been enveloped in fire. Every part of me is burning where the shadows touch. Specks of blood appear on my skin where I feel them wrap themselves around my arm and feed. Trying to calm my heart, I start taking deep, even breaths and just keep on walking forward.

  Finally, the heat begins to lessen. I take one more step. I’m blinded by light and my temperature plummets.

  Frozen in place again, I look around the room at what’s happening.

  There are ghosts. Everywhere. It’s hard to see the people I came with due to the amount of ghosts that are in the room. It’s freezing. I look up to the ceiling and instead of seeing more ghosts like I expect or the white wash of paint, all I see is dancing shadows. I strain to hear anything to give me a clue as to what direction to walk but can only hear muffled noises.

  A gunshot reverberates through the room followed by a shout. Shaking myself, I begin to push through the ghosts, in the direction I think it came from. Physically having to move the ghosts out of the way, deaths start flashing through my mind.

  The Soul Catcher standing behind a man, his knife slashing through his neck.

  A fire, people screaming, bodies burning, the entrances not opening.

  Blood pooled on a floor.

  Carpet squelching beneath my feet.

  My new mark pulses and burns against my chest the whole way.

  Looking at the ghosts is starting to hurt my eyes — the light coming off them is blinding — and it’s hard to make sense of what’s in front of my eyes with visions plaguing me. I look down concentrating on the stone floor, spotting the still blackened markings from a long ago fire.

  Hearing more shouts, I realise that they’re becoming clearer. Risking it, I look up and I can finally see the rest of the group ahead of me, the mist of the ghosts beginning the clear. Running through the last few ghosts, I cry out in pain as they go through me.

  I make it past the last one, their icy fingers wrap around my arm.

  There’s the sound of a neck snapping as they kick a chair away with their feet.

  Trying to shake their hand off, I spin to face them and realise it’s the same ghost that I followed from the other room.

  “This will be your last chance to turn back. They have not seen you yet.” The ghost turns and looks at the scene in front of us, and any residing thoughts of running flee from my mind.

  Drops of blood litter the floor just beyond my feet, heading toward the body.

  Blood pools underneath the SWAT gear.

  Shadows line the walls and the ceiling, making it look as though black silk has been hung around the room.

  In the centre of the room is a little girl, bound and gagged on the floor. A circle of blood and symbols are around her. Shadows dart down and swoop over her, taking sips of blood.

  She begins to scream around the gag again.

  My eyes dart wildly until I see what I’m looking for. The Soul Catcher is standing in the midst of the shadows. The only part of him that can be seen clearly are his piercing blue eyes.

  Looking down at my arm, I see the whole area has gone red. It’s numb where the ghosts still has their fingers wrapped around me.

  “Why are you all here?” I ask. “I know some are victims of the beast hiding in the shadows, but you aren’t. How are you here?”

  The ghost looks at me, squeezes tighter.

  “He has been walking the earth for longer than you know.”
The ghost looks around at all the others that are gathered in the room. “We’re the failed experiments, the ones whose souls he could not collect.” He spins back to face me. “It is only now, with the help of another, that he has found a way to get what he wants.”

  The rest of the world disappears while I let the words sink in.

  There are hundreds of ghosts in this room. And apparently every one of them has been murdered by the one they’re going to let go.

  “Why are you all here now?” I ask.

  The hand that’s not gripping me hovers above my chest, right over my mark. It pulses more, reminds me that it is the only part of me that is still warm.

  “We each carry a part of him with us. He calls and we have to come.” Looking directly into my eyes, he implores me to leave again.

  “Let me go. Please.”

  The ghost’s fingers finally release me. My body shivers from the cold and I wonder if I’m ever going to be able to get warm again. Standing up straight, I throw my shoulders back and step into the action.

  Sounds assault my ears and I realise just how much the barricade of ghosts was blocking from me. A smell wafts up my nose; death and decay, copper from spilt blood. And an underlying smell I can’t quite place. It’s like a burnt out matchstick but with a hint of sweetness. It’s disgusting.

  Trying to push all the distractions from my mind, I run over to where everyone has gathered. I don’t know how much time has passed, but no one looks like they’ve missed me. I want to look closely at the faces of those gathered to see who’s missing, but I’m scared I won’t be able to concentrate on the task at hand if I know. I take a step towards the circle — it feels like something is pulling me towards it.

  I see Maria walk over to the edge of it, but then she stops suddenly. She tries again, putting her hands in front of her and pushes.

  Something is preventing her from crossing over the line. She steps back and closes her eyes, her lips moving, but I can’t hear what she’s saying.

  Stepping forward again, Maria tries to push her hand through the air. It’s met by an invisible resistance. Cold laughter runs through the air as the demon steps out from the shadows.

 

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