The Curse of the Soulless

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The Curse of the Soulless Page 4

by Jessica Sorensen


  Her eyes widen. “You want me to carry out your dresser?”

  No. My aunt would have a shit fit if I took any of the furniture. But I’m curious to see how far Willa will take this tough girl, snarky act.

  "It needs to go out, and you said you didn't want me to make it easy on you so…" I point at the thick wooden, six-drawer dresser. "I think that's probably the heaviest thing in here."

  She grinds her teeth, fuming, and I worry maybe I pushed the teasing thing too far.

  Try to smooth things over!

  “Willa, I think we got off on the…” I trail off as she marches over to my bed and begins dragging the mattress off the frame. “What’re you doing?”

  “Carrying out the heaviest thing in the room,” she grunts out as she pulls the mattress onto the floor. She wipes her palms on the sides of her long legs as she walks to the footboard. Then she bends down and reaches underneath the frame. “One… Two… Three…” She moves to lift the bed.

  "Okay." I rush over behind her and place my hand on the footboard, holding the bed down. "You win."

  She pushes to her feet, standing up between my arms, and whirls around to face me. "I'm not trying to win." She tucks a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear and crosses her arms over her chest. "I'm just trying to get this over with as quickly as possible, so I can go home, lock myself in my room, and try to stay in there as much as possible for the next month."

  "You don't need to do that," I tell her. "I'm not going to bother you." What an enormous fucking lie, but I do it so easily.

  All the Soulless do. But without a soul, lies, sins, evil they all come without too many complications, and it creates a monster inside us; tolerably decent during the day, and awful at night, as if I'm two different people. And the things I do at night haunt me during the day when the monster isn't in complete control. It's during the day when I sometimes regret the day the Soulless Keeper appeared to me in the cemetery while I was talking to my parents about how crappy my life had gotten. Back when I had no friends, and I was constantly teased, and Evelyn had just stomped on my heart.

  “If you want, I can make you a deal,” the Soulless Keeper said, appearing from seemingly out of nowhere. “A deal that will take all of your pain away.”

  He had worn a long black jacket and a hood over his head that cast shadows so dark I couldn't see his face. And the sky, which had been blue and sunny had shifted to a cloudy grey.

  I wanted to run. I wanted to scream. I wanted to be afraid. And I was. But I wanted what he promised more, so I stayed and made the deal. He would hold onto my soul, and in exchange, I’d become popular and never have to feel hurt again. It sounded so simple—losing my soul, which felt so broken at the moment, and I’d have the perfect life. Turns out, though, that even with a missing soul, I still mourn my parents and now I have to deal with the urges of not having a soul. The sad part is I don’t always regret my decision. Sometimes, like at night when I’m committing my sins, I enjoy being empty inside. But I don’t know if that feeling is mine or the monster’s.

  “Did you hear what I said?” Willa asks, wrenching me out of my daze.

  I shake my head. “No.”

  She sighs. “I said that you’re not going to be bothering me like you don’t bother me at school?”

  Now I sigh. “Look, I’m sorry about what I said Friday. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I was just… messing around.”

  She arches her brow. "Just messing around, huh? Tell me this, then. Gaige, you forgave Porter for putting you on the spot in front of the class? What he did to you was sort of the same thing you did to me, only you used me to get out of your mess because you were uncomfortable when he brought up Evelyn, whoever she is."

  Evelyn. Hearing her name makes my heart flinch for a brief second, but then the emptiness takes over, reminding me of why I gave up my soul to begin with.

  No more pain.

  “I wasn’t uncomfortable with any of that,” I say, annoyed. “I never get uncomfortable.”

  “Yes, you do, and you were uncomfortable when we were in class. But you didn’t want anyone to see you were about to freak out. But I saw it in your eyes. The Evelyn remark bothered you.” She pokes me in the chest, catching me by surprise. “And for a second, you felt guilty for being an asshole. But none of this an excuse. I don’t want to be made fun of either. And FYI, I’m not obsessed with you, and I don’t want to see your dick!”

  My lips part to fire a comeback, but a shocked gasp stops me from saying anything else. Willa and I turn to find Mrs. Marlow standing in the doorway with her hand over her mouth.

  Great. She probably thinks I was hitting on her daughter. There goes my place to stay and finding that damn sword is going to be a hell of a lot harder.

  "Oh my goodness," Mrs. Marlow lowers her hand from her mouth, her gaze landing on Willa. "What's going on honey? Are you okay? Or…" Her eyes roam in my direction and worry flashes in her eyes.

  I can see her wheels turning, questioning what kind of guy she’s allowing to move into her house. If I’m a guy that just asked her daughter if she wanted to see his dick. All Willa has to do is tell her yep, he’s a perv, and her mom will kick my ass to the curb.

  I let go of the bed and put some distance between Willa and me, hoping that helps ease the situation. But panic chokes at my throat. If I don’t find that sword, then I’ll be tortured by the Soulless Keeper for all of time and eternity.

  "It's fine, Mom," Willa says nonchalantly. "Gaige and I were just messing around. It's a thing we sometimes do to be funny. What you heard me say… Well, that was me being a brat. Gaige didn't have anything to do with it."

  Huh? My gaze darts to Willa, but her neutral expression is unreadable.

  “Oh, okay.” Her mom warily glances back and forth between the two of us before scooping up a box off my bedroom floor. “Willa, you and I are going to talk about your language later. Gaige, let’s get the rest of your stuff into the truck so we can get you all settled in before dinner.”

  When she leaves the room, Willa lowers her head and presses her fingers to the brim of her nose. “Great, now I’m going to get an hour long lecture about being nice to others and not using the word dick.”

  “You should’ve just told her the truth.” I rake my fingers through my hair and stare at her, baffled. “Why didn’t you?”

  She lowers her fingers from her nose and lifts her gaze to meet mine. “I have no idea.”

  I stare at her for a moment, and she carries my gaze steadily.

  My heart begins to beat deafeningly, startling me after being typically dormant for the last few years.

  What is happening to me?

  The monster purrs.

  “You’re welcome by the way,” Willa says then picks up the lamp and hurries out of my room.

  I stand there, gaping at the doorway. This is the second time she has saved my butt from getting chewed out, and both times I haven’t done anything to deserve her kindness.

  How can she be so nice to me when I’ve been nothing but a jerk to her? And if she knew what I really was, what I’ve done—what I’m going to do to her—she definitely wouldn’t act that way.

  And why the hell won’t my heart shut up!

  “Gaige! Get your butt down here!” my aunt shouts up the stairway. “The Marlow’s are ready to get going! You better not make them wait!”

  Heaving a sigh, I balance the last couple of boxes in my arms and then head for the doorway. Before I step out, though, I cast one final glance back.

  When my aunt first told me the attic was going to be my room, I was horrified. Weren't attics supposed to be a place where ghosts and bats and spiders and monsters lived? The first night I stayed up here, a storm blew through the town and caused tree branches to scratch against the windows. I thought I was going to die; that monsters were coming to get me. I wanted to leave, but my aunt had told me not to bother her, so I tried not to panic. But as thunder boomed and lightning snapped, I freaked out and ran dow
nstairs to wake her up, determined someone—or something—was after me.

  “There’s something upstairs.” I gently shook her awake. “I think it’s a ghost or a monster or something.”

  She rolled over in bed and glared. “Go to sleep. I told you not to bother me.”

  “But I—”

  “If you come down here again and wake me up, I will lock you in that room,” she said. “Is that what you want?”

  I shook my head. “No… But I really am scared…”

  “Well, I really didn’t want any kids,” she snapped. “But we don’t always get what we want, do we?”

  I swallowed hard and left the room like a puppy with his tail between his legs. I didn’t want to be a burden to her. I didn’t want to be here. What I really wanted was my mom and dad back.

  Tears sprung from my eyes as I raced up to the attic and cried. I felt weak and pathetic. Unwanted. Stupid for getting scared. Stupid for thinking my aunt would care. Stupid for believing in monsters. I hated feeling stupid. I hated feeling weak.

  After my eyes dried, I promised myself I’d never allow myself to hurt this way again. I’d be stronger. I wouldn’t let things affect me so much. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. I’d make that happen no matter what it took.

  A few years later, I met the Soulless Keeper and got everything I wanted. He took away my pain—he took away everything. And made me into the monster I had feared.

  Chapter 5

  Willa

  When I was younger, kids used to call me stupid. Stupid girl. Stupid freak. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. But then I grew up, became friends with Brecken, and he was always telling me how smart I was. How much I rocked. That I was such a cool, amazing person. And the stupid comments became hushed whispers I rarely heard.

  Now, I wonder if the kids I go to school with may have been onto something. All I had to do was lie to my mom and tell her Gaige was hitting on me. Then she wouldn’t have let him move in with us. Yes, my mom is nice, but she has a line and harming or hurting me is that line.

  I shouldn’t have lied.

  I don't know why I did. I wanted Gaige to get into trouble. I wanted to see him squirm. But he was taking these short breaths, and I felt sorry for him. A panic attack. I've had them before. I used to have them all the time in middle school. When I walked into the cafeteria and kids pointed and whispered. When my nickname floated around the room. When the teacher would call on me and kids would turn and stare, waiting for me to screw up. Sometimes I'd skip class and hide out in the bathroom. Or eat my lunch by my locker. Or ditch school altogether and walk around the neighborhood until it was time to go home.

  So yeah, I felt sorry for Gaige and let him off the hook. The reason behind his panic is a mystery, just like why he’s moving in with us. I don’t care, though. This is the last time I’ll be kind to Gaige. From now on, I’ll avoid him. My good deeds monthly quota is officially done.

  After I bail out of the house, I stay in the truck with the window down and wait for Gaige to come out. If Brecken were here, I’d call him up and vent to him about the ordeal. He’d make jokes. I’d laugh. Life wouldn’t seem all that shitty. But now all I have to look forward to is going home, returning to my room and depressing music, and over analyzing why the hell my best friend wanted to leave.

  Stop thinking about this shit, Willa. Just stop thinking.

  Just stop.

  Blinking the tears back, I focus on my mom. She’s standing in the middle of the lawn, shielding her eyes from the sunlight as she chats to Louisa about Gaige.

  “Oh, I’m sure he won’t be a bother,” my mom insists. “He seems like a nice young man.”

  Louisa’s face scrunches. “He can get pretty annoying. Usually, I just send him out of the house or make him do chores, like mow the lawn or something. You can do that if you need to. In fact, you probably should make him.”

  “A neighbor of ours actually mows the lawn for us,” my mom says. “But I might have Gaige come to the shelter with me if he’d like to. We can always use the extra help, and it’s so rewarding.”

  A pucker forms at Louisa’s brow. “I guess that’s one way of looking at it. But honestly, I’ve always believed that people should take care of themselves. I don’t know why other people’s problems are supposed to be mine just because they can’t get their life together.”

  Man, she’s a real bitch. I mean, I know my mom can be a little much with her spread the love and peace around the world, but seriously, how can someone be so cold and uncaring toward helping someone in need?

  “They’re not putting their problems on me,” my mom says, kindly but firmly. “A lot of people who come to the shelter don’t want to be there. They’re just going through a tough time. Most of them aren’t happy that they have to ask for help. In fact, a lot of people who come in are ashamed that they’re there. I hate that they feel that way. But I think a lot of their shame comes from others shaming them.”

  I put my hand over my mouth to hide a smile. Go, Mom. She just put Sour Face in her place.

  “I wasn’t shaming them.” Louisa narrows her eyes. “I was just pointing out that I don’t think people should have to take care of others if they don’t want to.”

  “You’re right,” my mom agrees with a nod. “No one should have to be taken care of by someone who makes them feel like a burden.”

  Louisa’s nostrils flare as she raises her chin and turns for her house. “I think I’ll go check on Gaige. See what’s taking him so long. It was nice talking to you Livvy.”

  My mom waves at her and then walks toward the truck.

  “Go mom,” I say as she slides into the driver’s seat. “You seriously put her in her place.”

  She slips the key into the ignition. “I didn’t put her in her place. I was trying to explain to her that shaming people who need help isn’t a very nice thing to do.”

  “You’re being too nice right now.” I draw the seatbelt over my shoulder. “That woman is a bi—” I stop myself as her eyes widen. “Big old meanie.”

  My mom shoots me a look, but her lips twitch. “Nice cover up.”

  “What cover up?” I play dumb. “What did you think I was going to say?”

  “Willa.” She tries to act upset, but she struggles—usually does. “I really wish you’d start watching your language. Lately, I’ve heard you say a lot of not-nice words. Like when you were upstairs with Gaige. I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard you say that word and in front of some guy you barely know.”

  “Yeah, about that… I kind of do know him, like more than barely.”

  “Oh, are you friends at school?”

  “No. More like the opposite.”

  “Oh…” Confusion swirls in her eyes. In my mom’s world, there’s either people you’re friends with or people you should try to be friends with. There is no in between.

  She’s still trying to piece together what I mean when Gaige strolls out of the house carrying two boxes.

  “Is that the last of your stuff?” Louisa asks, following him.

  He nods, turning to face her. “Yep.”

  They stare at each other for a moment, and I expect them to hug or something, because isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when a family member moves out? Then again, it kind of seems like Louisa is kicking Gaige out of the house. Plus, she doesn’t seem like the hugging type.

  Louisa eyeballs the door and then Gaige. “You better not have taken any of the furniture. If I go in there and anything of mine is missing, I’ll report it stolen.”

  “Okay,” Gaige says flatly. Then he trots down the front porch and strides across the grass to our truck.

  “And just remember if you do anything at all to upset Mrs. Marlow,” Louisa shouts after him, “She’ll kick you out and then you’ll have nowhere to stay. Because living with me is no longer an option.”

  Gaige doesn’t look in our direction, quickening his strides with a blank expression. But I’m guessing the indifference might be a mask to hide the
pain he has to be feeling.

  I glance at my mom. “I hate to say this Mom and break your whole everyone-is-a-good-person belief, but that woman is a big, old meanie.”

  My mom stares at Louisa, who’s glaring at Gaige as if he just robbed her. Then my mom’s mouth curves downward as Louisa continues to chew Gaige out.

  “Your silence means you agree with me,” I tell my mom. “You just don’t want to say it aloud.”

  My mom clears her throat and tears her attention off Louisa. “Well, I think we should get going if we want to get Gaige’s stuff moved in before dinnertime.” She turns on the engine and rolls down her window. “I think I’m going to find out what his favorite meal is and cook it for him. Maybe that’ll cheer him up.” She looks at me with hope in her eyes. “Do you think he’d like that? I know teenage boys are supposed to like food.”

  “Sure.” I force a smile.

  As Gaige sets the last of his boxes into the bed of our truck, he catches my gaze through the rear window. This time I’m positive I see his eyes drain to black. I want to look away from him, but I can’t seem to rip my gaze off him, locked into some sort of trance. My heart starts to pound. My skin dampens. Fear soars through my veins. I almost get out of the car to go to him. Then lightning cracks in the sky and just like that, the trance is shattered.

  Gaige shakes his head and turns for his truck as if nothing happened while I twist around in my seat, shaking.

  “Are you okay, Willa?” my mom asks. “You look a little pale.”

  “I’m fine,” I lie, my heart rattling in my chest.

  The truth is I have no idea if I’m okay. I’m worried the hallucinations are coming back again. And if I have a repeat of last time, soon I’ll be stuck in my own twisted version of dreamland.

  Chapter 6

  Gaige

  The Marlow’s live in a quiet neighborhood about ten miles away from where I used to live. The path up to the single story home is lined with an array of bright flowers and pinwheels and hanging on the front door is a huge Welcome Everyone sign. The inside of the house is equally as welcoming, with colorful walls, framed photos of their happy family, and hand painted inspirational decorations. The guestroom is where I'll be staying and it has been made up with vases of flowers and a queen-sized bed covered with a mountain of those pointless throw pillows.

 

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