Devour my Soul

Sunlight filtered through the slits of the wooden shades, showering the room in a warm golden glow. The sounds of the city were muffled in the distance, overpowered instead by the whistling song of birds dancing on the wind.

My eyes were wide open, gazing sightlessly at the ceiling since before the sun had peeked through the windows. I dared not make a sound for fear of waking the slumbering man slouched in the armchair beside the foreign bed I was occupying. For a moment, when I’d first awoken, I thought maybe it was his bed. But the room was bare. Barely lived in. No, this was a guest room, and he was guarding me.

The clock perched on the bedside table rounded the hour off to six in the morning, surprisingly waking up my companion as if an alarm had gone off. I stifled a laugh as the familiar boy flailed dramatically about in his chair, swiping at an invisible attacker before realising I was propped up in bed watching him.

A blush crept through his cheeks as he abruptly stopped and straightened his shirt. I could feel the embarrassment rolling off him in waves by the simple hand brushing through his orange hair as he suddenly pushed out of his seat.

“You been awake long?” he asked gruffly and I shook my head. “Thought so,” he continued, nodding towards the door. “Come on, I’m starved, and I bet you are too.”

My stomach didn’t need to grumble at me for me to know that Jack was right. That I was indeed hungry so I wasted no time in shuffling from my bed, still fully clothed, and taking Jack’s offered arm for support.

For a kid, his manners were certainly up to scratch, which more than impressed me and I felt a little strange. Whether it was his embarrassment from previously, or he always treated woman in such a way, I felt smugly special as he led me to the door. He released my arm as he insisted on letting me through first, and I gave him a polite nod as I wrapped my arms around my body.

“So what, you’re a delivery boy in your spare time?” I asked.

The boy beside me chuckled, his voice seemingly undecided as it played between a range of high-pitched squeaks. His youth shone through the cracks of his exterior, as his mouth widened in a boyish grin and his body hunched over like a troubled teen with his hands buried deep in his pockets.

“Somethin’ like that,” he beamed. “What boss says, goes. Even if I gotta do some errands.”

I frowned at Jack, guessing futilely at his age, but knowing that he couldn’t be over twenty. “You’re just a kid.” I stated. “You should be at school or something.”

The boy scoffed in mock offence, raising a brow at me without missing a beat in his step as he turned a corner. The urge to brush the long orange hair from his eyes was infuriatingly tempting and the distraction his stringy locks posed over me was just ridiculous. I didn’t understand how he could possibly stand it; to have his vision impaired and itchy as hell.

“Hey now,” Jack answered cheerily, jerking his head habitually as he threw his fringe to the side. “Let’s not go throwing titles around.” He paused, peering at me mysteriously. “Reaper.”

“What?”

Ignoring the question, I watched him bemused as he opened a set of French doors. “Alrighty! This is the kitchen,” he exclaimed loudly, clapping his hands together. “It’s awful nice to have a lady in the house,” he mused. “You look like you can cook good.”

Narrowing my eyes in a glare, I pushed past him dramatically. “Actually, no I can’t,” I answered matter-of-factly. “Unless you want a ham and cheese sandwich or a bowl of two minute noodles?”

There was a moment of silence. The air between us bubbling quietly before it suddenly exploded in a thunderous laughter. I couldn’t help but smile at the sound, feeling somewhat proud that such a lame-ass quip could result in his boisterous happiness.

“Good thing the boss is,” Jack grinned. “Guess you two really are soul mates.”

With that, the smile immediately left my face and Jack patted me annoyingly on the back with another chuckle. I glowered at him, my eyes following him as he deftly turned and swayed out of the room.

“Kids,” I muttered bitterly, unable to shake the light smile tugging at the corners of my lips as his orange head bobbed away.

Shuffling through the kitchen proved to be easy as I rifled in the fridge for the makings of a sandwich. It was surprising how hungry I’d gotten and the distraction of food almost blinded me to the unsettling feeling of being watched. I didn’t have to turn to know exactly who stood behind me.

“You broke your promise,” Evan growled in a dark tone. “I had hoped I could trust you to find your flight, but it seems that trust is to be lost on you.”

I scoffed, breathing a sigh of exasperation as my knife sliced cleanly through the tomato. The prickle of his watchful eyes penetrated the back of my skull, filling me with the urge to swipe my gaze to his and throw a menacing ‘back up off of me’ look. Instead I trained my eyes forcefully to my knife, pretending that his presence didn’t affect me.

“That’s rich coming from the notorious Evan Phillips,” I quipped. “Tell me, how many souls have you reaped again?”

“One less than the records state,” he answered with a disapproving tone and I finally turned to see an unimpressed frown carved into his features.

I returned his glare, hoping I looked as menacing as I felt, but it seemed my thoughts were lost on him as he broke eye contact. Sauntering to the fridge, I realised with widening eyes that all he wore was a pair of pajama pants and unwillingly, I softened ever so slightly.

“What’s that on your back?” I asked quietly. “There are strange markings all over. What is it?”

My soul mate’s body tensed as he leaned over the open fridge door. I tried not to notice the perfect curve of his ass, denying myself the pleasure to stroke my gaze across his body any further than the curious black marks scrawled across his back. And then it hit me.

“Wait. Is that writing?” I asked, hinting at disgust, and it was obvious why.

At birth, we were all born with a single mark tattooed on our bodies. Our souls. And it was because of this sacred mark, that we often found it highly disrespectful to mark our body with anything else. Any who did, was of lower ranks in society. As harsh as it sounded, they were the junkies hiding beneath bridges getting their fix. They were the self-loathing loners looking for pity.

There was barely a second before Evan replied, not bothering to turn to me. “You ought to know,” he snapped, snatching a carton of juice from the fridge. “Since you’ve got one too.”

I gaped at the accusation. “What?” I snarled. “No I –”

“They’re names,” he interrupted, finally turning to me, his normally kind eyes seething with hatred. “Of the souls that I’ve reaped. I imagine the assassin’s name is now on yours.”

Whatever smart remark I had ready, died in my throat as Evan’s words sunk into my skin. I knew what he was saying. But I couldn’t quite process it. I wasn’t thinking straight. All I could look at was the ham and tomato sandwich sitting appetisingly on the cutting board before me.

“On my,” I paused, my brows furrowing slightly. “Back?”

The realisation hit me like a tonne of bricks. Dropping into my feet like weights as I stood stock still trying to gather my thoughts. I’d become a bumbling mess. Words pouring out of my mouth in collections that probably made no sense whatsoever. There had been an inkling. Back in the recesses of my mind I had suspected that I’d reaped the man in the hallway. I hadn’t simply killed him with my touch.

I’d watched him weaken, as I pulled his soul from his very body. I’d felt the pain of his name being branded on the back of my neck.

“Ellie, calm down,” Evan said tightly. “It’s alright.”

He’d grabbed my chin and turned my gaze towards him. No trace of kindness hid inside them. They were filled with annoyance at my childish behaviour and warned me to get my shit together.

“How?” I squeaked, answering my own assumption to his thoughts. “I fucking reaped someone. And they’re dead because of it.”

Evan sighed, moving away from me, but never turning his back. “I know you did,” he answered. “But you need to get a hold of yourself. It’s not the end of the world.”

My nails immediately clenched into the side of the bench, rage filling me to the brink as I suddenly stepped closer to the man retreating from me. “This is coming from a God damn Soul Reaper!” I screeched. “You kill for power!”

My finger jabbed into Evan’s bare chest, feeling a slight rumble reverberate through both our bodies at the contact. Like a static electricity, the slightly painful feeling nestled at my fingertips and buzzed impatiently.

“I’m good at it, so what?” Evan snapped, brushing my hand away from him in annoyance. “Humans are weak, and pathetic. Using their gifts for entertainment like they’re circus freaks. If anything, I’m doing the world a favour.”

My brows rose in utter shock, recoiling at Evan’s selfish statement. “Killing people, and stealing their souls, is a favour?” My blood was boiling.

“It is when they’re showcasing it,” he growled, sea green eyes glinting fiercely dark like the ocean in a storm. “At least with me, their powers won’t be used for measly parlour tricks.”

My initial reaction was easily justifiable. I brought my fist up and hit him square in the jaw. Unfortunately, I didn’t seem to affect him other than making him even more angry and I wasn’t quite sure yet if that was what I wanted or not. For the moment, however, I merely bared my teeth and wondered what I was doing here in the first place. Why had I come back? What had I thought my actions would accomplish?

Did I really think there could be more to this man than his egotistical murderous self?

“Clearly it was a mistake coming back,” I glowered, deciding then to abandon my sandwich for the good of mankind.

I stalked off in a fury. Out the way that Jack had left through, and hearing a single word drift to my thoughts. A single word that had tears springing to my eyes despite my efforts at holding a strong exit.

“Clearly.” Evan’s voice rattled in my thoughts.

I knew then that I wouldn’t return.