Soul Stealer

I set off on Christmas day with no particular destination in mind. The streets were silent that morning, assumingly because everyone was indoors and unwrapping gifts with the ones closest to them. The silence was not en eerie one - it was peaceful with the knowledge that everyone was happy, cosy, and safe. Or at least, they would have been in my Perfect World. Even on Christmas morning, I was convinced of the fact that there must be someone out there acting as easy yet naïve targets for The Disembodied.

All shops were closed. Heavily decorated Christmas trees lurked behind murky windows and tinsel hung limply in the dark.

I stuffed my hands into my pockets to shield them from the bitter morning cold, and proceeded towards the local park.

Amongst the thick, distant fog, I glimpsed the black and fuzzy outline of a person. Or not a person, but something much worse. I waited for them to approach, ready for action should it be necessary. The fog melted from around them as they got closer, gradually allowing their silhouetted figure to become more distinguishable. Male. 16-20. Tall. Handsome.

Exactly the kind of form one of Them would choose.

The main course of action would be to wait. I was standing directly in his path. If he were, in fact, human; he would simply pass straight through me. If he were one of Them, he would either walk into me, or notice me standing there.

I waited. He got closer, head still down.

He carried on walking, and eventually, our bodies collided.

I adopted a fighting stance, ready to attack. The fact that he was able to come in contact with me must have meant that he wasn’t human - that he was one of Them. He stumbled back frantically, and out of his mouth was spilled a clumsy mess of tangled words.

“Uhh…I’m sorry! I wasn’t…I should…uhh…I’m really sorry…I wasn’t watching where I was go-i…”

He looked up. Our eyes locked, and his words stopped. Green. His eyes were green.
The Disembodied have red eyes. Had he learned to hide this? If he had, what could have been his motive for doing so? Normal humans can’t see this colour anyway, and so that would have apparently been a pointless alteration. Unless he had some kind of ulterior motive that I was unaware of.

“Okay, what’s your deal?” I asked, still ready to fight, and not daring to let my guard down.

“Huh?” he frowned in confusion. Despite this act, I continued to pursue him.

“What are you?” I asked.

“What am I? Uhh…I don’t…what?” he was tripping over his own words as if they were landmines. The Disembodied were characteristically very charismatic. Was it an act?

“Are you human?”

“Human? Umm…yeah, last time I checked…” this question appeared to have come as somewhat of a surprise to him, “Look, I’m sorry for walking into you, okay? I was looking at the ground…it’s foggy…and you came out of nowhere like some kind of ghost…”

“How can you see me?” I questioned. This boy was worrying me. He showed no signs whatsoever indicating that he was one of Them, therefore so far I had no reason to call him out. But he could see me, that must have meant he HAD to be one.

“How can I see you? Because…I have eyes?” he replied slowly.

“Stop trying to be smart. I know what you are.” I insisted.

“You know…what I am?”

“Yes, you’re…”

“Shh!”

He suddenly pressed his hand against my mouth and halted my words. I tried to pry his hand away from me but his grip was strong. I stopped struggling when I noticed the expression on his face. He looked fearful. He looked genuinely fearful. I followed his gaze and laid eyes upon a Disembodied woman approaching us slowly. Her red eyes were visible even from this distance.

“Run!” the boy whispered, taking me by the hand and breaking out into a sprint. I struggled to keep up with him - especially on the slippery, ice coated ground. The Disembodied woman, however, did not bother to pursue the two of us. She simply stood and watched us go, and eventually faded from view. We stopped running and took refuge in a sheltered alleyway, which was abundant with thick shadows that emanated an uneasy silence. The silence seemed to separate the boy and me for a few moments, until he cut into it with his nervous words.

“I saved you.” he said.

“From what?” I asked, not understanding the fact that he didn’t know me. He didn’t know that The Disembodied’s attack has no effect on me. I forgot this momentarily, which apparently panned out better for me.

“I saved you from the creatures with the red eyes.” he said.

My heart froze. He could see them too. All my life I had been lead to the understanding that I was the only person, (in New York, at least), who could detect these creatures, and all of a sudden, I had been proved wrong by a total stranger who had literally walked into me on the street. It seemed too good to be merely a coincidence, however I couldn’t think of anything else to put it down to. Was he like me? Was he also invisible? It seemed unlikely, judging by his reaction. I needed to find out more.

“You can see them too?” I asked, not-so-cleverly.

An expression appeared on his face that I’m sure was very similar to my own.

“Too?” he whispered.

“Yes. I see them. Their eyes glow red and they can take on any form they want. They are extremely dangerous. That woman, back there, she was one of them.” I confirmed.
His green eyes widened, “I thought…I thought I was…”

“The only one.” he and I said in unison as I agreed with him.

“Have you seen what they…do? To people?” he asked, swallowing hard, and wincing slightly.

I nodded. “Too many times. They’re like vampires…only worse.”

“I’ve always thought I was the only one.” he said. “Every time I saw one, I would ask my little brother if he saw it too, and he would just shake his head and look at me like I was crazy. My parents even tried to get counselling for me. ‘He keeps saying that he sees monsters, Doctor, it can’t be healthy’. At times, I thought…’Well, maybe I really am crazy.’ I was starting to doubt everything I saw. And what was worse, I was having to try and sort it all out by myself…but now…”

I knew he wasn’t one of Them the moment I saw the tears gleaming in his eyes. My suspicions had faded rapidly after what he had shown me, and that finally confirmed it. The Disembodied showed no signs of weakness whatsoever, and this included crying.
Relieved, I smiled, and held out my hand.

“I’m June.” I said.

He shook my hand, “Tomas.”

So, Tomas was perfectly human. He was not a heartless soul-consuming machine. He had a family. But this also meant that he was not like me, in that he was visible to regular people. How he was able to see me was unknown to me, but I knew that I had to keep in contact with him - not only because he must have been able to see me for some kind of reason that I knew I would find out in the end, but also because this was the first non-malicious human contact I had ever had. My only chance for friendship.

“So, June, why are you roaming the streets by yourself on Christmas morning?” he asked, bringing up something that hadn’t occurred to me yet.

“I could ask you the same thing.” I replied.

“Family disputes,” he said, “you know how it is. Parents just don’t understand kids. So why are you out?”

“I’m Jewish.” I lied. “I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

“Still, isn’t it a little cold, and not to mention dangerous, to be wandering the streets?” he asked.

I shrugged, “Anything that get’s me out of the house…”

He nodded understandingly. He was buying every word I said to him.

“Well, you wanna try and find somewhere warmer, so that we don‘t freeze to death?” he asked.

“Like where?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “somewhere indoors?”

“Nowhere is open on Christmas day.” I pointed out.

“There must be somewhere.” he said.

A thought occurred to me. “I know somewhere, but it’s going to involve breaking some rules.”

“Anything,” he said, “I’m catching hypothermia out here.”

Around the back of the local library is a dumpster. When said dumpster is rolled out of the way it reveals a broken vent large enough for a person to crawl through. Naturally, I know the library inside out, having spent so much time there, and Tomas seemed to be rather impressed with my plan. Obviously, I could have used alternate methods of gaining access to the building - but I didn’t want him to find out about me; about what I am. Therefore, the most human-friendly entrance seemed the safest.

He followed me through the vent, and immediately upon entering the building I could already feel the warmer atmosphere draping itself over me. I made my way over to the comfiest couch in the corner by the window, with Tomas still following, and sat down. He mirrored my actions, and then scoped the room admiringly.

“I’ve never been here before.” he commented, gazing up at the impressive burgundy ceiling that stretched out across a long rectangular room impressively high above the floor.
“I practically live here.” I laughed.

“So, I take it you read a lot?” he joked.

“More than a lot.” I answered.

“Do you read a lot, lot?”

“More like, a lot, lot, lot.”

“That’s a lot, lot, lot of reading.” he giggled.

“So what about you? Do you read?” I questioned. I was making pleasant conversation. I was interacting with another person in a friendly way. This was surely too good to be true.
“Sometimes, but I’m more of a musician.” he said.

“Can you play any instruments?”

“Ha!” he laughed loudly and suddenly, “I play a lot, lot, lot of instruments.”

I sat up excitedly and moved towards him, “Like what?”

“I sing mostly,” he answered, “but I also play the guitar, the piano, the synthesizer, the drums, the saxophone, the violin, and I’m learning to play the harp.”

“Harp!? That’s amazing!” I commented.

“Thanks…” he blushed modestly, and I just wanted to throw my arms around him and hug him. Luckily, I managed to refrain from doing so.

“Have you ever performed?” I asked eagerly.

“No,” he admitted, “just the thought of doing that is enough to give me nightmares.”

“But you must be talented enough.” I said, disappointed.

He shrugged, “Maybe, maybe not.”

“Surely nothing is scarier than what’s out there…” I muttered darkly under my breath, referring to The Disembodied, and not intending for Tomas to hear. Unfortunately, he did hear, and the subject changed instantly.

“Why can only we notice them?” he asked.

“I wish I knew…” I whispered.

“There must be some reason.” he said quietly.

“For future reference,” I began, “I call them The Disembodied.”