Eater of Souls

by Erik Lynd

  "I'd rather not," Eris said.

  Christopher lifted her gently off the ground. He drew shadows around her, in case anyone was looking. He was standing on top of the stone island. Night had fallen. Sirens in the distance told him it was time to go.

  It was over. All the soul lights were out and all the shadows dissolved. All, save one—the largest of the shadows.

  It was the hellhound.

  "Come," Christopher commanded.

  The hound drifted forward as though unsure, but unable to disobey. It was without form. It had no eyes, but he knew it looked at him expectantly.

  "They are without form on this plane, until granted by their master," Eris said or maybe it had been Dark Eris, she had closed her eyes and drifted to sleep so he could not tell.

  He had to give it a form? He saw a sign a few feet away. It had a giraffe on it. No, that would not do, next to it was picture of a monkey. No, that seemed like more trouble. Then he saw another animal and knew it was the right call.

  The shadow lengthened and thickened. Four black legs sprouted from the blob and a long, inky tail drifted out of it. In moments a large black panther stood just on the other side of the sea lion fence. Its eyes blazed with Hellfire and it let out a roar that Christopher could have sworn was pure joy.

  Yes. That form will do nicely.

  Flashes of light from behind him drew his attention. A group of zoo visitors stood against the building, all of them with their phones out. Another group, zoo employees he suspected, watched from the window of the administration building, phones in hand.

  "Damn," he said. "Shit just got real."

  He pulled Eris close and summoned the hellhound—or rather, Hellcat—to his side. The Hellcat dissolved into shadow again and joined the power swirling about him. He could feel it close by him, and for second he thought it might be purring. Nah, had to be his imagination.

  He leapt into the air and disappeared into the night. At least, he hoped he did. The civilians had gotten enough video footage of him already.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The large double door to the Dark Soul’s house was already off its hinges and on the marble floor of the entryway when they arrived. Christopher walked in, draped in shadow and Weapon held high. At his side was Ammit, Christopher had looked up the name and thought it appropriate, so he had kept it for the Hellcat. Besides, it was a girl’s name, and he had a feeling that the cat was a girl.

  Behind them stood Hamlin and Eris. Hamlin had his gun out, ready, for what they were not sure. Ammit had led them here when Christopher had told her to find the master of the dark soul with whom she had shared a body. He had expected maybe a battle, or at least a trap. But not this.

  The door was crushed inward as though by a great force, leaves and dirt blown in by the wind told them that this had been done at least a day or two ago. Blood splattered the walls, and more doors leading off the entry were damaged or completely ripped out. Claw marks gouged the walls.

  "Looks like there's been a big scuffle," Hamlin said.

  "Captain Understatement speaks again," Eris said.

  "Well, we've got to search the place," Hamlin said. "Any ideas on what this thing might look like?"

  "I have no idea. All I know is they have a piece of my soul," Christopher said. "It could look like anything. I just hope I know it when I see it."

  They searched through the deserted house. Ammit padded ahead of them at times, searching quicker. The place was huge. They found a few bodies—servants Christopher guessed— but no piece of his soul. They decided to split up, still, an hour later they had nothing.

  Christopher found Hamlin in the living room. He had long since sheathed the Weapon. There was no danger here, not anymore.

  "It's not here, they would not leave something like that behind," Christopher said. "How are we supposed to find it?"

  Ammit came into the room, and an idea came to him. Hellhounds can track down a lost soul when they have taken a bite. Could they do it in reverse? Track back to the piece of soul? Seemed like it should work.

  "Hey guys, I found something," Eris called from the other room.

  He and Hamlin entered the study to find her standing at a desk. The study looked like it had been torn apart. Paper was scattered everywhere, some of the charred remnants in the fireplace. Books that had once lined the custom bookshelves lay in piles on the floor. A wall safe was open, the door torn off the hinges, the contents, or what was left of them spilled out on the floor. Eris held up a manila folder with a few sheets of paper in it.

  "I found this tucked under the desk. I think it fell there, and whoever ransacked this place missed it," she glanced down at the page. "Do either of you know what the Alliance is?" She said, looking up at them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  "We are so fucked," Christopher said.

  He was drunk and he didn't care. They had come back to his home and covered what holes they could with tarp and boards. Then they sat in front of the TV watching the craziness unfold. Ammit curled up in the corner near where Christopher sat and faded in and out of shadows.

  Some said it was two large animals fighting at the zoo, but they could not answer what animals. Others thought it was a gang firefight that had broken out. There were a multitude of theories spreading. But they all stopped once the footage was shown.

  That's when the religious fanatics chimed in. It was the end of times. Two demons duking it out. It was the beginning of the rapture. To others it was two monsters from another universe, but they were out-cried by those that knew for sure it was aliens.

  But to Christopher's horror the one idea that seemed to strike the biggest nerve, that seemed to stick with everybody was a statement a ten-year-old boy who had been in that group of tourists near the sea lion enclosure. When he had been interviewed afterward, they had asked this boy what he thought had happen.

  He had simply said. "A bad guy was there, a monster, and he was trying to kill everyone, and then this other guy came and saved us. You know like a superhero."

  Christopher groaned every time he heard that clip and took another belt of whiskey.

  "Facebook is blowing up. All my newsfeed shows is video of our fight. Some really good photos too," Eris said.

  "You have a Facebook account? I don't even have one," Hamlin said.

  "Of course I have one. Even a possessed demon girl needs a social life," she said and rolled her eyes. "And I'm not surprised you don't have a Facebook account. I bet you'd still have a flip phone if it hadn't finally died on you." She looked at Christopher. "Old people, right?"

  Christopher gave her a weak smile.

  "Well, I can't say I know what this means," Hamlin said nodding towards the TV. "But I think you might have just been introduced to the world."

  "Shit. That is the last thing I need. I’ve grown in power, I feel it. The battle with the werehound, and ultimately with myself, taught me a lot. But I’m still just starting out. I'm gonna make a lot of mistakes, and the last thing I need is a world stage. I don't know, maybe they'll just forget, you know, over time?"

  "Sorry kid, I don't know much, but I think people have a hard time forgetting about things like this. That boy said it best, some people are going to see you as some sort of superhero. Others may see you as a monster or demon—no offense, Dark Eris—but they won’t forget. They'll just misunderstand. It’s the nature of humanity," Hamlin said.

  "Don't worry detective, Dark Eris isn't here right now," Eris said.

  "The question now kid is, what’s our next step?" Hamlin asked.

  "I’ve been thinking about that," Christopher said. He put down his drink and picked up the Book. "This last fight made me realize that I’ve been getting lucky. I had thought the power was enough and had gotten a little cocky with it. But when that monster came along, I was way out of my league. I think my next step is some sort of training."

  "Training? You mean like join some sort of martial arts club?"

  Christopher smiled. "No.
I was hoping for something a little more ambitious."

  "Then what? Where are you going to find training for the right hand of the Devil?" Eris asked.

  "I don't know, but I think I know who to ask," Christopher said and looked down at the Book.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Anabelle was in a dark place. Beneath her aching body the ground was hard and cold, leeching the heat out of her flesh. Her once flawless flesh was now covered in sores and cracked skin. Her glamour was gone. If the light had been on and someone was nearby, she would have looked like a hag to them. But she was weak and broken, she could not wake her power. It was over, she had lost. Ammit had gone mad and ruined everything. But what scared her the most is that she could not quite remember what exactly he had ruined. Her memories were gone, just like her power. But unlike her power, she did not think they would ever be back.

  A door opened and light poured in, piercing the darkness. She squinted at the sudden brightness, then a large form blocked out the light, like the moon eclipsing the sun.

  Golyat.

  He had done this too her. Locked her down here, hurt and tortured her. Asking his questions over and over again, punishing her, he said. She hated him. But most of all she hated that she wished she could tell him everything. She wished she could tell him all about what she had been up to these past few weeks. But she couldn’t, it was all gone. She even tried to make things up to stop the pain. But no. He was relentless.

  And now Golyat was back. To begin again.

  He reached down and pulled her to her feet. Even on her feet, Golyat towered over her. He was a large man, it made sense that he had been known as a giant.

  She felt a click on her neck, and she understood that he had just connected a chain to her collar. He wanted her to be sure of her new position.

  She could see around the room now in light from the doorway. A steel table with straps, she could remember that. She had been tied down. Next to it was a rolling table with wicked instruments of torture. Not the normal kind you see in the movies. These were snatched straight from Hell. The tools were more organic than steel and writhed in little pools of putrid liquid. They had been used on her, she could remember that now. She screamed as the memories came flooding back. Of being strapped down, of the cuts and incisions those living tools of pain had caused. They had been in her, and she screamed again as she remembered them moving through her cutting, rending, tearing.

  Golyat slapped her hard, though at a mere fraction of his strength. The blow stunned her, and she quieted immediately. With a satisfied grunt he turned and walked out the room, yanking on her chain. She staggered forward and coughed as the collar wrenched at her throat. The hallway outside was brightly lit, and she had to shield her eyes at the glare.

  He dragged her down the hallway behind him like a reluctant puppy. She grasped at the wall to hold herself upright. She could barely walk, her body was so weak. This was also the moment she realized she was nude. The shame did not bother her, she was no prude, but the feeling of exposure did.

  When her eyes became adjusted to the light, she could tell they were in a service tunnel underground. After a few turns and another locked door they arrived at a loading elevator. It looked familiar and a new kind of fear started sneaking up on her.

  The elevator opened and they got in. Inside one side of the door was lit up like a Christmas tree with all the floor buttons. That was when she realized where they were and what was about to happen. He pushed the button for the top floor.

  She began to sob. Of course he would do this, this final humiliation. She slid down the corner to sit on the floor. She sobbed, and he ignored her.

  The door opened and Golyat yanked her to her feet. He had not talked to her once since he had questioned her. She knew it was his way of telling her how much she was beneath him. But he didn't have to speak, she knew what came next.

  They stepped out into the penthouse suite, it was more of a corporate penthouse. It was one of the meeting places of the Alliance. She was sure there was a meeting called tonight. And she would be his trophy. The memories of details were gone, but she did remember that she had acted to gain the upper hand with the Alliance. Although, how she could have was a mystery to her. For some reason, she thought she could steal the leadership away from him. That had been foolish, as she could now attest. If anything, she had given him a boost of prestige. She was his slave.

  He opened the door to the conference room and pushed her through the doorway. As she went through, he casually yanked on the chain, and she fell to the ground kneeling at the feet of the five other dark souls that sat around a table. She heard a couple chuckles and at least one tsk tsk. She knew them all but she could not look them in the eyes. She was exposed, she didn't even have her glamour to hide behind.

  Five members of the Alliance of dark souls sat around the large conference table. The smell of sweat and blood was stronger than usual in the room. The room was also darker than usual, only a few faint lights in the ceiling illuminated the great table. They all sat as far from each other as they could. Arguments and rage were the norm in this place, and the distance itself a form of protection.

  Never had so many of them gathered in one place. Several must have traveled from out of the country.

  "Let this be a lesson to you all," Golyat said as he took his place at the head of the table. "You may not recognize her, but this is our beautiful Anabelle."

  There were more gasps at this, several had not recognized her. Her shame only grew.

  "Yes, the most beautiful of us has been reduced to this," Golyat said.

  "What happened to her?" One of them asked. Annabelle did not raise her eyes, so she could not be sure, but she thought it might have been Andre Lavolier, the Alligator King. She was glad she did not have to gaze into his reptilian eyes. They had always unnerved her.

  "Therein lies the warning," Golyat said. "She thought she would act on her own, gain power here in this room by preempting our move against the boy Hunter. She disobeyed the Alliance, and this is what happens."

  "The boy did this to her?" Another dark soul asked.

  "I like to think that she did this to herself, but yes, her plans were defeated by the Hunter."

  "She is the one that created this hellhound? She is the one that exposed us to the world? It is all over the news," a dark souls said. "Scientists try to explain it. To the average person it is a glimpse into the supernatural. It will be hard to go back to the shadows after this."

  From his accent she thought he might have been Draug. He was a long way from Eastern Europe.

  "Then he grows strong fast. This is the second of us he has defeated," one of the dark souls said.

  "You said he was just scratching the surface, Golyat? How then was he able to do this?" Another asked

  "I will admit he has grown stronger much faster than I had anticipated. As I said, this is the first time we have had a mortal Adversary. Nobody knows the rules here. But we are still in the much stronger position,” he said and laid his hands on the table. "For one thing, no matter how quickly he is learning, he is still a babe to the power. There is no way he understands the full extent of it yet. For another, we have a gift from our Anabelle here."

  He nodded to another door and as though on cue, it opened and a pretty young lady stepped out. It took Anabelle a moment to realize who it was. Her soul shaper wore a gray and black dress, she was clean and had obviously had her makeup and hair done. It looked like she had even been fed recently.

  The soul shaper looked around the room nervously at the dark powers who sat there. She almost turned and ran back into the room behind her. But then Golyat caught her eye, and his silent command made her stay and fearfully make her way to his side until she stood above Anabelle.

  There was more than a little satisfaction in those eyes as they gazed down at her.

  "Well, I can see she is a witch, but how exactly does that help us?" Draug asked in a rumble.

  "She is not just a witch, but
a soul shaper. Untrained, but potent," Golyat said and there was a short murmur of approval. But Draug was not impressed.

  "But again, how does that help us now?"

  "Because we also have this."

  Golyat reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small crystal vial. It glowed with an inner light.

  "Is that..."

  "Yes," Golyat said. "It is a shard of the Hunter's soul."

  He put the vial down on the table for all to see, but it was not far from his reach. There was no trust in this room.

  "You see, brothers, we have the advantage here. Between this and the Relic, he will not be able to stop us,” Golyat said and turned to the huddled woman on the floor. "And yes, Anabelle did expose us. But I wonder if it is now time to show the world what evil really is, maybe it’s time to give it a face. Our face."

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Erik Lynd writes novels and short stories primarily in the horror, fantasy, and urban fantasy genres. Currently he is in the middle of two ongoing urban fantasy series: Silas Robb and The Hand of Perdition series. He also writes the occasional horror novel such as Asylum and The Collection. He lives in the Pacific Northwest where yes it does rain a lot and no he does not mind it. You can learn more about his writing at www.eriklynd.com.

  ALSO BY ERIK LYND

  NOVELS

  Asylum

  The Collection

  THE SILAS ROBB SERIES

  Silas Robb: Of Saints and Sinners

  THE HAND OF PERDITION SERIES

  Book and Blade

  Eater of Souls

  COLLECTIONS

  The Long Fall Into Midnight Vol. 1

  SHORTER WORKS

  The Hanging Tree

  Dark on the water

  His Devil

  Dreams

  Siege of the Bone Children

  In the Pit

  Copyright