Kingdom of Souls

Chapter I Life after Death

Finishing high school used to be at the top of my list. “Get it over with,” I would tell myself. Like almost every other junior at Kennedy High, I was crunching for finals. I’d pull myself out of bed at the crack of dawn, muster in some lame excuse of a breakfast, and then rush out.

My clique was no clique. I’m more of a loner—taking it day by day. Sure I have a friend here and there, but mostly I stick to myself. Perhaps I wouldn’t be where I’m at now if I would have been with some friends. I’d be at some party, drinking it up and taking advantage of the early dismissal week at school.

How bizarre that I would have been safer at a place like that. Who would’ve guessed?

You know why vampires became highly popular in our time? Because coming across or getting attacked by a fictitious character is way cooler than simply getting attacked. I mean seriously, you’re walking in the dark and someone creeps behind you. Boo! White skin, red eyes, pointy teeth, exotic, perfect beauty—vampire. Wow.

So they do exist, I would think. And while you’re shitting bricks, you’re also psyched to witness such a phenomenon. Who doesn’t want to meet a vampire? But that’s just a scary bed time story. Or in our century, a star-crossed lovers’ tale. But I still wish I were the female character in those stories when I compare my fate to those “situations”. Because as I lay here on the dirty floor of an alley, my body beaten and my mouth tasting of only blood, with my focus slowly leaving me as my cold limbs grow weaker, fainter—I wish so bad I were either Bella, Elena, Sookie or even Buffy. But it’s not the case here. The truth is I’m alone, forgotten and frightened, and I’m dying.

I’ve experienced a near death tragedy before—my parents and I were victims of a drunk driver accident. I was eight when they died. I woke up two months later with a broken arm, concussion, and face altering bruises, all to find out that both my parents were dead. I had no relatives to take me in so I entered the system—foster care. I wish I could tell you that it’s great. That the people were very nice, and that it was the start of a long healing process or some bullshit like that. But the truth is that it was just the continuance of the worst events possible in my life.

As soon as I could work, with a school permit, I did. I saved every penny. I didn’t indulge in any luxuries like expensive clothes, CDs, IPod or whatever. I saved and proved myself worthy of adulthood at age 16—I got emancipated. I joined a government based program for young adults living on their own. I had to see a counselor two times a week and every month my parole officer would check my dorm, grades, and verify my employment to make sure it was in the legal standards.

I shared a washroom with 6 other girls and I didn’t even care. I was beginning to be happy. Beginning to get past all my horrible experiences. I had a plan and I was sticking to it—go to school, go to work, homework, go to sleep and eat somewhere in between. I had no time for play. No time for games. I needed to move on and slowly I was achieving that.

Only now it was truly over.

I’ve never been into any religious beliefs. Lying here I can’t help but think if it would’ve helped me. I remember my parents would go to church every Sunday and we were pretty happy. So maybe I was being punished by whatever force existed out there. I’m not an atheist or whatever. I just figured I’d deal with the consequences later...during resurrection.

I never purposely hurt anyone; I brushed my teeth twice a day, okay sometimes twice a day. But I was a good person. I think. But now, right now, I can say I’m scared. I mean I thought I would meet my death at an old, old, age. And really, who says—“do not enter” to an old, sweet lady? But a teenager—a 21st century, goth-looking teenager? I’m not so sure anymore that my afterlife plan was all there. Perhaps I should’ve put more thought into it.

And I did say I was alone in this alley right? I ask because now I seriously think I’m either dead or crazy. Crazy is better than dead at this point so I’m indulging this. Something bright and sparkly is approaching me. And I would be seriously freaking out, only that I can’t. Because whatever it is has made me feel so relaxed and harmonious.

A sweet blissful tranquility has seized my body. Until now I was shivering. Whoever attacked me took my coat and the freezing 15degree frost was beginning to numb me in a non-comfortable way. Like when your fingers and ears are frozen and then something hits them. It’s like the cold intensifies the pain. But the numb trickle I feel right now isn’t like that because I’m beginning to get warm again. And the throbbing in my gut feels more like a far away tummy ache. And my head no longer feels compressed with pounding, ear shattering and overflowing pain, it now feels light and the headache is almost entirely gone. I also can’t taste the blood anymore. I can actually remember the last thing I drank—a cherry smoothie. And the sweet flavor is coming back to me. I can feel it on my taste-buds as if I just drank it, as if I’m still drinking it.

And now I know I’m crazy, because it’s talking to me.

“I want you to live…” Her voice is like music—soft and wonderful, like a harp.

As I look up, I see her face, pale with light pink cheeks, her eyes are a milk chocolate brown and her hair is like smooth, sculptured onyx. Her smile is so wonderful and I know now, I’ve seen her before. And then her hand reaches out toward me, there’s no way I want this lady to touch me, but somehow, I’m not afraid. I just figure that when she does touch me, I’ll die for sure.

The lady touches my forehead and when she does, I feel great. I mean I really feel great, terrific even! But I still can’t move. And instead of being outside in the freezing, stench-filled alley, I’m now surrounded by so much light; I don’t even know where I am anymore. But it’s okay because the lady’s still there and she’s smiling.

At this point I start to think back and wonder to myself…how the hell did I even get here in the first place? Here—in the alley. But I don’t even know. I was walking back to my living building and it was dark because I got off of work late. Next thing I know someone jumped me. They beat me, took my wallet, my coat, and my shoes. Like I had much to offer. If they only knew. I cursed something awful under my breath at the creeps and the lady in front of me got this puzzled look.

“Oh…not you.” I assured her.

But she still looks sad or upset. Not mad, more like a confused frustration. And now I totally recognize who she is. And I cannot believe it.

It’s my mother.

But how? I mean she’s dead. Has been for some time now. So now the fictitious stories are creeping back like the bad cheese on the counter of the dorm’s kitchen table. The cheese everyone refuses to throw out until the culprit admits that it was them who forgot to toss it. And let me tell you…the cheese stinks!

So my mother’s face is staring at me with a miserable expression. But she doesn’t look upset with me. I guess I really am dying and her magic didn’t work cus all my old and rotten feelings are coming back.

The pain in my body is returning. The gushy and buzzing sensations are flooding back. And if I didn’t want to die before, I swear I do now because my entire body is aflame with excruciating pain. My limbs are feeling individual pricks that never leave. In fact, as the seconds tick by, the prickling becomes more like stabbing. And like an explosion, my head reaches the point where I’m sure the creeps are back and they’re beating me again. And this time they brought bats, or steel pipes to finish me off with.

And then all is silent, my lungs are tired of yelling. There’s no more darkness, or light. The lady that looked a lot like my mom is gone and my pain is over. I don’t feel good but I don’t feel bad either so I’m wondering what the hell is going on.

And next thing I know, I’m looking at a frail body in front of me. She’s lying there motionless and I’m wondering if I should offer her some help. Her limbs look like they’re crushed and her face is beaten so badly that it’s unrecognizable. And then I realize something else.

The girl is me! I’m standing over my dead body. What the hell is going on?!

And as if I asked the question out loud, the lady is back. Clearer than before. Not as bright anymore, and yes. She’s my mother. Just like I remember her, 5’3”, beautiful, slim frame, short, black hair and soft, brown eyes. Pale with strawberry cheeks, and a smile that makes you feel wonderful no matter what.

Others are there too. People I don’t recognize, people that weren’t there before.

“You’re one of us now, my love,” she says.

“One of what?” I ask. Only I don’t sound like me—my voice sounds almost melodious and soothing.

“One of the undead. Forever roaming and now your life is on hold. Your soul gets to continue on for a second chance.”

“A second chance at what?” I ask, because all this is just ludicrous.

“A chance at life. In the other realm. Where souls live forever,” she answers.

“I don’t understand,” I find myself admitting out loud.

My mother places her hand soothingly on my shoulder then whispers, “You will. But for now we must go…”

“Where?” My confusion rises.

“To where the souls roam free.”

And like some cheesy movie, I find us walking toward an infinite light. One that beams and twinkles. And what the hell, I go with it.




Chapter II The Kingdom


I sit, staring straight ahead from under my thick lashes, hoping that my dark brown, almost black eyes pierce right through her. My body is slouched on the overly comfortable couch—large in every possible way and soft in just the right places then hard behind the small of my back. I cross my arms over my chest to make my glare seem more dramatic.

My savior clears her throat, “It was the only way to lure you in Valerie,” she tells me.

I scoff, letting out my breath huskily as I roll my eyes. “Hell of a way to lure someone in, by making them see their long dead mother right before their eyes. Just tell me who cooked that one up.” I lean my weight further into the couch, hating the way it comforts my vibrant, yet perceptive muscles—my inhuman body, thanks to her.
“I’ve tried to explain this to you in ways you can understand, I’m supposed to be your mentor but in them seeing—” the woman cleared her throat, cutting off her own sentence as she carefully selected her next words; she straightened her body and softened her voice. “The council has replaced me. Your new mentor will be Xernona and she is already expecting you.”
The tall, lean and beautiful lady that pretended to be my mother’s ghost gets up and hands me a sheet of paper. I stare at it, reluctant to take it and angry with myself for allowing my conscience to force me to look up. Her clear blue eyes looked humbly into mine, she was hurt, disappointed. Apparently the council had selected her to guide me into this new realm of existence and new way of…life. I snatched the paper from her hands—in the nicest handwriting possible was a name and address, Xernona’s name and address.

I wasn’t allowed to walk the streets yet, not until I got my first official lesson from my mentor. Great so this is what happened, full rundown—I died. The woman I thought to be my mother, sweet with brown eyes and black hair was actually Lucinda—the blonde hair, blue eyed model-looking lady that just instructed me to get into the bulky, black, fully equipped Lincoln. I rode in the back.
Apparently when a human is destined to have this really great life but their body suffers multiple traumatic experiences, the soul slowly rips from the human in order to salvage itself. The body is a borrowed tool that the soul uses to live. So while my actual body is dead, my soul lives and it can stay on the earth plane striding along like some paranormal freakish ghost.
Well no, not exactly a ghost. As a roaming soul I can be seen by everyone, humans do not know the difference between souls and the regular living bodies. According to Lucinda, the reason I am not allowed to walk the streets just yet is because my body remains dead, it’s kept at some morgue where it is being prepared for the burial.
If a human died a clean, rightful and natural death the soul moved on—it passed on. But us, the roaming souls, the undead, no—we’re not that lucky. On top of the fact that our human form suffered and was shoved into death, our soul gets to suffer some more. Well isn’t that just peachy?!
I can never live a normal human life or a regular dead one. I will always have to be careful because my actual body will be dead and buried in some cemetery. Being this way is not a good thing—it is a curse. Lucinda briefly explained how back when Eve ate the, oh so famous apple, the price for that sin wasn’t only that humans would forever suffer and little by little the suffering would increase. It went down an entire different road after that and nowadays the original sin still haunts humans. If the soul reached its breaking point through the human body it would have to fulfill whatever tasks the council implemented in order for it to rest in peace.
I almost socked her right in the face, if only her features weren’t so delicate looking.
“We’re here Miss Valerie,” the limo driver said.
“Just Val, okay? None of this Miss,” I told him, still shocked at how different my voice sounded—soothing and harmonious when I was utterly pist off inside.
The driver merely chuckled and bobbed his head in response as I got off of his shiny car. I stared up at the two-flat building in front of me. The dark red, brick-made structure looked ancient; its windows were etched in gothic looking frames with green lush growing all around them. I wanted to ask which apartment when I heard a soft, deep voicing echoing in my head.
First floor, it whispered. I looked around suddenly, my eyes darting back and forth searching for the voice’s owner. The voice chuckled, you’re new at this I see, she said.
“What the hell—where are you?” I groaned. I hated practical jokes. After my parents died and I was thrown into growing up quickly, I learned how much a person could change. I went from being a chirpy little pink loving girl, to being a serious, sarcastic, glum goth-looking teenager. I couldn’t help it.
My ears heard it before my eyes could witness it; the door creaked open before it even really opened in front of me. I was still near the street, standing on the sidewalk, yet I heard the door as if I were right next to it. Well, aren’t you going to come inside Valerie? She demanded, her voice deep and luscious against my head.
A quick breeze picked up, not that my body could feel it but I sealed the opening to my long, black waistcoat (compliments to Lucinda) and adjusted my finger-less gloves. “Are you for real?” I asked.
A lion-looking cat crept out of the door and stared at me, I swear the cat looked like it was smiling at me. I took a deep breath and asked the question once more, but this time in my head—not out loud. Are you for real? I asked.
You learn quickly. Yes I’m for real, now get inside. Her voice was command-like and I had to struggle in my stance to not obey.
I closed my eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Who are you? I insisted.
Your mentor, Xernona, but I would prefer for you to call me—
“Nona,” I interrupted out loud. Somehow I had seen the name displayed against my closed eyelids. The word slipped out of my mouth before I could even understand its meaning but I knew it was the answer.
The voice let out a soft laugh, training you will be easy—you’re a natural. Come inside Val.

Nona’s apartment was filled with plants. In fact, I saw the plants before I even got a good look at her.
“Think fast,” Nona’s deep voice called out from around the corner. I heard the object swishing through the air before I realized something was being thrown at me. Nona tossed me a soft rubber ball; my hand flew up instinctively and grabbed it from midair. I stared at the small rubber handball, amazed at how quickly my hand moved.
“Good,” she smiled. “But you can be much faster than that,” her smile faded as her face composed to a more serious, professor-like stance.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
Nona was tall, or maybe I was just too short. She looked like one of those runway models, reaching almost seven feet tall. Okay, she wasn’t that tall but she was like 6’2”. She had light colored skin and soft gray eyes. Her hair was long and a pale blonde. She looked like she was in her twenties but seemed so fierce and regal-like that it made her look like she was in her thirties.
“I see they didn’t explain anything to you, not the bond or your gifts. No matter, we can begin there then,” she said.
What was Nona talking about? I guess she knew I was wondering this, if my puzzled look didn’t give it away my thoughts apparently did.
There is much to learn and I want you to know that you can trust me, I will guide you through this. She said.
“How do you do that? How do you get inside my head like that?” I asked, seemingly agitated.
“All mentors have a bond with their students. In fact, some soul roamers have the unique skill to communicate with our kind through telekinesis,” Nona said as she sat down on her loveseat—grey like her eyes only covered with multi-colored flowers.
“This is all a dream, I’m going to wake up in the hospital and realize this was all a dream,” I breathed. My hands lifted toward my face and I sunk my body across from hers.
“On the contrary Val, this is reality. And this is what I meant about you trusting me, this will all roll out much smoother and quicker if you trust me,” she insisted.
“I just don’t understand, what is happening, what am I?”
Nona sighed, she stretched out her legs and smoothed her hands over her long red skirt. “Lucinda is one of the elders from the council that rule the souls that roam on the earth plane. When our human body dies, our tortured soul seeks comfort in the warmness and spirit of life and becomes stuck out here.” Nona reached in front of her toward her coffee table and began to pour tea into individual cups then handed one to me. I took it, mostly out of kindness. “You don’t remember the decision you made since it was more like an unconscious choice but what we have done is wrong—souls must cross over, not stay here. Since we didn’t we must pay the price, and some are given the task to become death guardians.”
“Death guardians?” I mouthed out the words, automatically disliking the way they sounded against my lips.
“To the untrained eye you appear to be human, but you are not, I am not. We are souls, roaming the earth plane with infinite possibilities and gifts. We drink to taste and not to replenish, we eat to taste and not to nourish. Our senses are highly receptive—our hearing, vision, scent are all more effective. We have faster reflexes and the gift to see a human’s soul, we see it as an aura—a beam of light surrounding the human. A soul that resides in the human body cannot see you in your truest form, therefore you can sometimes become sort of invisible to them.” Nona crossed her legs and balanced her teacup over her knee.
Was I going crazy? Maybe I should pinch myself to see if this was all a dream.
“If you pinch yourself, you won’t feel pain, it’ll feel like a feather brushing up against your skin. Go on, try it,” Nona challenged.
I rolled my eyes. “Listen, if you’re going to get into my head there has to be some boundaries,” I could feel my words slipping out from between my grinding teeth.
“That’s the point Val, boundaries would limit my knowledge to you,” she smiled.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. A breath that I could feel did nothing to my fake lungs—I no longer had lungs. It felt more like a waist of oxygen.
“It isn’t a waist since you do not breathe oxygen in and convert it to carbon dioxide. It’s like the air passes right through you—unchanged, untouched,” Nona explained. She pushed her lips inward and shut her eyes. “It’s like an impulse, I’ll try to work on being more subtle,” she said.
I took another breath, this time forgetting about the whole oxygen thing. I tried hard to focus on the sounds around me, the lavender scent lingering in the air. After about five seconds of concentrating I could hear a light flapping followed by a ruffle. I closed my eyes and saw an image of an orange ladybug flapping its wings.
“If I may,” Nona whispered. “What you heard was indeed a ladybug, and when you closed your eyes you saw what your senses picked up. It’s an amazing gift,” she smiled.
Nona’s words registered but I kept my eyes closed and focused on the tiny beetle—it was in the large plant nesting near the entrance. Centering on this gave me a sudden peaceful feeling, it soothed me to my core as I felt my inhuman muscles relax. My lids flew open, “What exactly is a death guardian?”
“We cross over once we’ve completed our given tasks by the council. Like all living things we have a choice, but we are under a contract and if we do not complete our tasks we remain on the human plane forever,” Nona chose her words carefully, her eyes appeared cautious and hazy.
“My given task is to be a death guardian. What does that mean?” I insisted. There was something Nona was hiding from me, I could feel it through our bond.
“You are to collect the souls of the humans which have committed crimes and you are to imprison them,” Nona’s words were razor sharp against my fake skin. She knew what resided within my mind, that’s why she stalled on telling me this.
“Don’t sugar coat it, what the hell does that mean Xernona?” I demanded.
“You were chosen to be an angel of death Valerie. You have to find the humans that have or will commit a deadly crime and you will take their soul from them. Then you will damn those souls to hell where they will forever experience the torture they have implemented upon humanity.” Nona’s voice although serene and calm made my nerves jump hard against my fake veins. I felt something boiling within me, then rising to my head.
“Angel of death?!” I shrieked. “And what if I refuse?”
“The price is much worse, I can assure you.” Her eyes told me she wasn’t lying, that and the darn bond.
“They want me to be a murderer?” I felt an empty void where hot tears should be running down my cheeks. Apparently souls lacked tear ducts.
“I can see how all this plays out in your mind, but it isn’t like that Val. You were chosen to be an angel, one that collects damned souls. If it weren’t for your kind, when the human dies the soul lives on but in a horrible way. Instead of a free soul, it becomes a demon—you free the human plane of demons,” Nona explained.
I don’t want to do this, why didn’t I just die? I supposedly chose this but it was that Lucinda that lured me in. If she wouldn’t have pretended to be my mother then I wouldn’t be here. Then something occurred to me, something wonderful. “Where’s my mom?” I asked, my voice high pitched and elevated musically.
Nona frowned. “Your mother isn’t a roaming soul Val. She crossed over with your father.”
“Does that mean that they’re in heaven?” I asked happily.
Nona shook her head, “I’m sorry to disappoint you but we don’t know for sure. The council does not share that information with the under privileged. We do not know what lies further beyond the borders that we have yet to cross. We do not know if it even exists. Suppositions all over the world entwine with our own curiosity. The only information we are given is on a need to know basis. We free the world of demons, demon souls and demon souls to be. But that’s all we know. I’m sorry Valerie.”
I knew she was sorry, I could feel it, but I was still suddenly angry. I didn’t know whether with her, the council, or Lucinda. Maybe the entire darn world.
“It isn’t the same for everyone. When you were picked up Lucinda herself went, she took the entire council with her—you’re special. But the damned souls do not receive such a welcoming—you’ll soon learn that every death guardian has their own unique style. With this comes their exclusive style of living arrangements.”
“Living arrangements?” I asked, puzzled to have never thought about it before.
Nona rolled her eyes, I mean she seriously rolled her eyes. I could practically hear them rolling in there. I never thought it was possible for her to possess such attitude. “Some guardians, particularly the death guardians have come to realize that souls can roam the earth plane with virtually no consequences to their actions. Humans do not command us, only the council does. So as long as you’re doing your job, there isn’t anything that can faze you. But some guardians take advantage of their gifts and take it to the next level.”
“Uh-huh. And I am supposed to know what you are talking about and what all this means...” I did my own share of rolling the eyes.
“Some of the gifts that guardians posses are those I already mentioned to you—heightened senses and stronger body, faster reflexes and being able to become invisible in front of humans. All guardians possess the ability to see a human’s aura. An aura is like seeing the soul amplified through the body’s skin—an aura is the soul. Roaming souls do not have an aura since we don’t need them. We also carry the ability to be able to locate any human being through our never ending connection to their soul.”
I scratched a non-existing itch lingering over my skull underneath my thick brown hair. Sometimes I was all for it, listening intently and buying this whole shit. But then reality would sink it and I begin to think I’m both delusional and making this whole thing up or just dreaming. I don’t know which one is better right now.
My mind suddenly felt utterly exhausted. “Can I sleep?” the question just slipped right out of my lips.
“No,” Nona’s response startled me. I love to sleep! In fact, as a human, it was the best and most relaxing part of my day. “Roamers don’t sleep but our minds do need to rest. We never really sleep, we can still hear everything around us and are completely aware of our surrounding while we rest but we do not fall asleep.”
Well at least it was comforting to know that we did rest, my mind felt drained.

Chapter III Death Guardians

I’m glad you see it that way—most fresh guardians still use the term ‘my body is tired’ but you automatically know it isn’t your body that feels drained, it’s your mind.
I rolled my eyes. Nona insisted on communicating telepathically more often so that I could practice, but did she have to do it while I was trying to sleep?
Rest, she corrected.
Leave me alone, a soul deserves to sleep, and if that’s what I want to call my alone time than so be it—I’m sleeping. I begged to differ. Insisting that if I concentrated enough, relaxed enough—it would feel like being asleep.
My mind convinced my fake muscles that I was asleep and all noise, although audible, was more like a soft hum in the background. I was sure I would have a difficult time in resting versus sleeping but the truth is that I felt more relaxed and rested than when I was human. Most of the time as a human I felt groggy and overworked. But after only ten minutes of sleeping, er, resting…I felt so wired and rested.
I felt her mind thinking up the words before she spoke them to me telepathically. How do I get away from your voice? Is there like a mile distance that we need between us? Because I’m sure I can rest somewhere else, I said.
Nona laughed, a soft, humble giggle escaped from her throat—I heard her chuckle from the other room. The thick wall between us wasn’t enough for my now heightened hearing ability.
Everything is a lesson, from the moment you stepped off the cab. Everything I do has its purpose. Nona’s deep soothing voice crooned its way into my brain.
“This is really it isn’t it?” I whispered out loud.
Nona’s reassuring words and high spirits weren’t enough to calm my nerves—yes, roamers could get nervous. I didn’t want to do this. I imagined some clothed silhouette crouching, stalking its prey and then snatching it from the life it created for itself. I’m a liberal chick—my feet are planted firmly against my personal beliefs. I like to mind my own business and I don’t care much for gossip.
If one of the girls whom I shared dorms with passed her curfew and was about to get cut from the program I turned my head. Cruel? I think not. It’s hard enough to be a teenager, my life was complicated enough and I didn’t like to be snooping in other’s business and making the situation worse with my thoughts or opinions. If the girl got thrown back into foster care, I tried not to imagine myself in her shoes and feel bad for her. This is who I was—I ignored situations that demanded someone’s political view. There are rules everywhere you go, I follow them and if you don’t that’s none of my business. But now here I was…glued to human’s existence and I would be forced to stalk people—stalk them, and then imprison their soul.
I was ordered by the council to be a death guardian—an angel of death. In simple words—I picked up the souls of those who:
1. Had committed crimes in their past lives.
2. Committed a crime in this life.
3. Will commit a crime in their future (in order to avoid their upcoming sin)
As soon as I collected their soul, the human body died where ever it was—driving their car, at work, making love or simply walking the streets. It was my choice when and where I took them. This just didn’t seem fair. Nona told me that the oddest case was taking the soul of a child. It was foretold by the council’s oracle that the particular soul belonged to a mass murderer and when the child grew up it would have had more than one hundred dead bodies under its belt. So they sent out one of their death guardians and took the soul, they killed the child before he could have a choice, perhaps repent past occurrences.
In my mind I was fully aware that the souls I would pick up were people after all. And that human was someone’s spouse, sibling, grandparent, somebody’s best friend or lover—these were people of all ages. I couldn’t find it in me to feel glad about my new job.
According to our council we were angels of death, to our kind we were known as death guardians and we are referred as roamers. We have been known as many things. Some consider us grave keepers or shadow snatchers. The fairy tales call us the grim reaper and to many we are the saviors of the paradise most hope to one day become part of. But to me, I’m just a murderer.
This is my day job, evening and graveyard shift. This is my new life, bound by my forever living soul and trapped by a life altering contract. We call it the Kingdom of Souls because here we roam free, but I don’t consider myself freed. I wish I would’ve died on the dirty floor of that black alley, I wish I would’ve died right alongside my parents in the accident that cost the existence their lives. I’m going to suck it up and take hold of this position because once my contract is complete I can cross over.

**
Nona ignored my rambling and was busy preparing I don’t know what downstairs. Apparently the two-flat gothic looking building belonged to her and she had converted it into a house. She didn’t have bedrooms in the first floor, instead she had torn down the walls and made the living room one large space, there was a bathroom with a whirlpool bathtub and then her kitchen. Upstairs, she had 4 bedrooms and another washroom. She even had a porch which she had converted into a garden.
Nona was sort of hippie-like, and very spiritual. She had small Buddha statues and incents everywhere. It seemed like she combined all things spiritual into her entire home. I saw everything from a Chinese dragon, to astrological posters, a large painting of the Garuda over her small elegant fireplace and plants of all kinds said to have medicinal purposes. Why a roamer would need medicine? Beats me. We didn’t get sick, ever. Why would we? We aren’t alive anymore.
I’m in here, Nona said.
I rolled my eyes. In where? You’re talking to me in my head so how am I supposed to know where the hell you’re at if I didn’t hear your voice coming from a specific room?
You’re so stubborn. Close your eyes and focus. See my voice…
I bit hard on my lip, momentarily astounded by the fact that my fake teeth didn’t harm the surface—it felt like a caress, a tickle. I did as Nona asked and closed my eyes. I took in a slow breath and envisioned the air entering my fake lungs and filling my fake diaphragm. I relaxed my tense shoulders and smoothed out my hands. Just like with the ladybug before, I saw Nona. She was on her porch, watering her plants on the sunny side of her deck. Her golden hair sparkled as the sun’s rays hit it.
I let out a soft gasp. Black isn’t your color, I teased.
Nona was wearing a long black dress; it cascaded over her slim frame and brushed against her ankles. I only knew her for just over twenty four hours but when you get to be in someone’s head, you get to know them in ways I never thought possible. Nona hardly ever wore black; she always wore brilliant colorful garments. What’s the special occasion?
“Your first lesson,” she said out loud.
Amazing, I literally heard her words before she spoke them, but not because of our bond—my heightened hearing picked up the sound waves rippling its way toward me.
“I’m in charge of your training,” Nona continued. I followed her voice onto the porch, stunned to realize how correct I was on her location and wardrobe. “But I have to admit that the best field guardian I know is Dessie. It’s always best to see two sides of a situation—I’ll show you my way, and Dessie will show—”
“Who’s Dessie?” I interrupted.
I heard a soft chuckle somewhere in the yard. I looked up—a tall, handsome guy entered the back fence surrounding the yard. He wore a long, black waistcoat with its neckline raised. His hands dug deep into his pockets, making his shoulders appear squarely large and strong. His jet black hair fell over his sky blue eyes and he cocked his head to the side quickly, making his short strands fall back away from his handsome face.
“Valerie this is Desmond, I call him Dessie,” Nona said.
Desmond reached the top of the deck swiftly, his speed was incredible—I barely saw him stride past the long yard. He put his hand out in front of him, waiting for me to shake it. I saw a glimpse of dark, intricate line swirling over the top part of his hand—a tattoo.
“Pleasure to meet you Val,” he smiled, flashing his dazzling white teeth.
I took his hand, and I’m sure I felt a jolt of electricity ride up my arm and around my neck. If I were human, I would’ve gotten goosebumps for sure. Say something! Anything!
“Hello,” my voice came out like a screech, scratchy and unattractive.
He smiled as if he didn’t notice I was gawking at his godly figure. He was inches taller than Nona which meant he was close to seven feet tall—a giant next to me—I was around 5’6” and felt tiny next to him. He let go of my hand and stirred his attention toward Nona.
“When shall we begin?” he asked her.
I almost melted at the sound on his voice—deep, soft and seductive without even trying. Who was this guy? I shook my head and focused my attention on Nona’s wide variety of exotic plants. I stared so intensely that I could see the intricate, delicate lines over the petals, I could see the tiny fuzzy-like pollen seeds.
“Is that alright Valerie?” Nona’s hard and focused glare on me commanded me to look up. My attention on the flower was so deep that I had completely tuned them out. My mind instinctively scavenged hers—her conversation with Desmond was displayed in full, as if I had pressed the rewind button on life itself.
“You’re the boss,” I answered, this time my voice sounded more like me and less like the pathetic, drooling over a hot guy teenager.
Nona and Desmond were setting up a schedule, dividing their time with me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then Val,” Desmond extended his hand out to me.
I hesitated like a total dork, staring at his indigo colored eyes. I forced my head to bob a nod and pressed my hand to his, then time stood still. I mean everything literally froze in front of me. I saw his lips curving at the end, slowly smirking as he raised his left eyebrow.
“Great, I’ll pick you up after noon,” he said.
Time unfroze, but the feel of his touch against my palm tingled and lingered its way up my arm. He was gone before I could even blink, leaving behind his cologne scent—alluring and provocative.
“Valerie!” Nona exclaimed. I stripped my eyes from the fence door. Nona’s expression confused me, she appeared hard and somehow angry but her thoughts clearly expressed amusement and something else that closely resembled the feeling of pride.
“What?” I asked somewhat annoyed. I was sure she was working up a good lecture.
“One, I’m going to have to teach you how to border your mind. And two, do you have any idea what you just did?” She placed her hand on my shoulder and peered into my eyes.
I could feel her digging in my mind, looking, searching for something. It was annoying—like lying in bed comfortably only to be disturbed by someone jumping on top of you and moving you around while they looked for something underneath you.
“One, border my mind? And two, stop digging in my brain—you’re causing me a headache.”
Nona shook her head, leading me back inside her home. “Dessie is one of the few gifted death guardians with the ability to read roamer’s minds—he knew exactly what you were thinking about him. I can teach you how to create a border in your mind to keep those thoughts private.” She waited for my reaction to this.
If my cheeks could turn shades, they would be a bright red right now. “Why the hell didn’t you send me some kind of a signal?” I shrieked.
“You were blocking me,” Nona whispered, a puzzled look took over her features. “I’ve never heard of a student with the ability to block her mentor—that’s the second thing I was talking about. I got a glimpse of what you were thinking and then when I tried to warn you, my connection to you was…broken. How did you do that?”
I shook my head, how the hell was I supposed to know? I was the fresh one here, the newbie. I didn’t do it on purpose, I told her.
I know. I can see it in your mind now, but I can’t understand how you did it. Nona pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. I could tell she was trying hard to rummage through my thoughts. I was embarrassed, ashamed to have her see my most intimate feelings. Usually I only felt a tickle of her digging in my brain, but now she was excavating my each and every thought.
I’ve never seen Dessie that way, it’s strange to see him the way you do. Nona was careful to communicate this to me telepathically. She knew saying it out loud would make it much more embarrassing.
“I’ve never really looked at someone like that before,” I whispered. “But then again I’ve never seen anyone like him before.”
Nona nodded. “It isn’t forbidden for us roamers to see one another, but it’s without purpose to fall in love Valerie.”
“Love?!” I almost choked on the word. I didn’t even know this guy.
“You can’t lie to me Val, I see what you see, I feel what you feel—and to you, Desmond is special and unlike no other,” she gave me a sympathetic smile.
“Fine, I think he’s hot. But who wouldn’t? His looks aren’t normal—if Brad Pitt walked down the street I’m sure we would all stare. Regular people rarely see someone so perfect,” I swallowed hard.
Nona giggled. “I see your point, funny I never saw him that way before. He’s obviously a strapping young man. I just always saw him like a brother.”
I nodded while chewing on my bottom lip, opening my eyes wide as I saw his tall stance reappear before me. His deep blue eyes and coal-like hair, his strong and chiseled-looking body.
“Like I said before, I need to show you how to block your thoughts,” Nona smiled sheepishly.
“But I thought you said I couldn’t do that with you,” I frowned.
“Well no, but you did outside. I don’t want you to cut me off, just a block—especially if you’re going to think about Dessie the way you do. I don’t need him like that replaying in my head.”

Chapter IV Ride to my Doom
Did I miss my old life? No.
Did I like my new one? Not yet.
I spent the entire evening yesterday training with Nona. Learning to block her thoughts was by far the hardest thing I’ve ever done. She assured me that if I became an expert at blocking her out, then I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else. My mind never felt so drained. If I could compare it to something it would be like studying calculus for thirty hours straight—no breaks whatsoever. My mind felt weak, and it forced my limbs to become limp underneath the strain of my weary mind.
Resting never felt so good. I listened to the grasshoppers chirping away their tunes. I even relaxed hard enough that I literally heard the smoke escaping from the lit incense downstairs. It was amazing. Nona’s soft humming in her kitchen somehow soothed me and I felt my body and mind slowly gaining its strength. After four hours of resting, I came downstairs just in time to witness the sunrise. Nona was on her back porch and I joined her quietly.
She breathed in softly and smiled at the dawn breaking its way into the dark sky. I love to watch the sun rise.
This is actually the first time I see one, I admitted.
Shocked, Nona stopped witnessing the sun rising slowly before us to stare at me. “You’ve never seen the sun rise?” she exclaimed.
I shrugged. “Maybe when I was a kid, when my parents were still alive. After their death nothing was the same though. I didn’t have the privilege to just sit and stare at the sky.”
Nona hated the fact that I blocked my mind from her more often. If she wanted to, she could just peer inside my head and see for herself, but once I learned how to keep her out, I did. I stared off after the sunrise, loving the way the orange sky shined bright against the green yard.
“I prepared breakfast,” Nona said excitedly.
I frowned, “We eat?” I never really paid attention to this before until now but I wasn’t hungry, or thirsty. I didn’t feel pain or discomfort.
“Well we don’t need to eat but food tastes so good, why live a life without it?” Nona shrugged as she made her way back into her home.
I followed her, shaking my head while I stared at her expensive-looking tiles.
“You need your sleep, and I need my food,” she said while serving herself a full stack of chocolate chip pancakes.
“Sure, I can go for some sweet pancakes,” I shrugged.
I moved behind Nona and served myself three pancakes, her back was facing me and as soon as she sat down I saw it. Curving its way up her neck from her back was an intricate wave-like pattern. “I would never think you had a tattoo,” I admitted out loud. “Was your human body inked?”
Nona lowered her head, she blocked me from entering her mind and stared at her plate, her fork lingered over her pancake. “No.” she answered flatly. “A death guardians’ skin becomes marked after they take souls.”
“Does it hurt?” I wondered.
“Not physically. Mentally. But you get used to it after a while,” she stuffed a large piece of food into her mouth.
I could tell she didn’t like this part of being a roamer. We could equally block each other’s telekinetic communication path, but our bond made sure I understood that this subject made her uncomfortable. I just didn’t know why.

Nona and I spent the rest of the morning practicing how to use my highly receptive senses wisely. Everything from my ability to sniff out the herbs in her shut cabinets to hearing the bugs underneath our feet tunneling their way through the dirt.
She halted my training thirty minutes before noon so that I could rest before Desmond picked me up. Only problem was that I couldn’t rest. I was too busy picking out something to wear. Somewhere along the line of me being beaten in my human life to becoming a roaming soul, the council picked up my stuff—claiming it to be part of removing my belongings so that another girl could move in.
I didn’t own much, and most of it was black. What do you wear to a training that involves taking souls from people and condemning them to hell? Black?
I sighed and settled for my tight black skinny jeans and black suede, chunky boots that came close to touching my knees. I threw on a gray chick t-shirt and rummaged the overly sized closet for my favorite, overused jacket. It was the only piece of clothing that cost me more than twenty bucks. It was a dark gray, almost black, very feminine waist coat. Not too fancy, just casual enough for me to wear on my first day to work with a very hot trainer.
Would I let the thought of me being a death guardian ruin the fact that I was about to be picked up by one of the yummiest guys I had ever laid eyes on?
I have one word for you…No.
I looked at my reflection on the large mirror hanging on the wall across from the queen-sized bed and was momentarily taken aback. A thin yet curvy attractive woman stared back at me. Her long brown hair made her soft, milky skin appear silky. Her chocolate brown eyes sparkled under her thick bangs. I gaped until stupidly realizing I was staring at myself! Being a soul truly had its advantages. We saw the aura (better known and referred to as a soul) just the way it truly was. No mask could hide its identity, one’s personality bounced out dramatically to us. There was no way to hide it. This is all Nona had taught me so far. Looking at myself I realized that if I were a human, I would be surrounded by a soft purple aura. Souls didn’t lie, and I had never looked upon myself like this. Unbiased and truthful, sheer and delicate.
The soft buzzing of an engine rattled quietly outside. I stepped to the window and two seconds later a light grey sports car sped up the driveway. My eyes practically bugged out. Typical guy, he owned a Mercedes Benz sports car. The type of car only rich, rich, rich ass people owned. I was sure it was worth up to four hundred thousand dollars.
Desmond stepped out of his car and a frown composed over his handsome features. He looked around and squeezed his eyes shut, puzzled he walked slowly to the door.
“Change of plans Nona?” he called out to her as soon as he stepped foot in the house.
I didn’t have to run, another part of my training with Nona—to move quickly, very quickly without being detected. My legs carried me swiftly and quietly out my room and down the stairs. It was as if my feet barely touched the ground, it merely creaked when I stopped in front of him. I was sure I had a stupid smile plastered over my face once I got a good look at him.
Good God, he looked amazing. And I’m sure he wasn’t even trying hard. His relaxed yet elegant and effortless style oozed over his appearance. He had on black jeans with heavy looking combat boots. His torso was hidden behind his long, black waistcoat with a gray hoodie sticking out behind his neck.
“Hi,” I greeted. This time, I put out my hand before he even had the chance to realize what the hell was going on.
Desmond looked at me, his brows furrowed together. “You learned how to block.” It wasn’t a question. He took my hand sternly and shook it softly.
“She learned a lot of things,” Nona said. “Her mind is like a machine.”
Today, I would make him forget what he already perceived about me. The stubborn side of me wouldn’t let him think I was head over heels for him just because he was fabulously hot. Being handsome didn’t mean you were worthy. I needed him to know the real me, the fearless me, the strong me. The me that never allowed herself to drool over boys.
It was going to be hard to not drool though, especially if he looked at me the way he did right now. His royal blue eyes glared into mine, digging its way to my core. It took him more than the necessary time needed to compose himself, he cleared his throat and motioned me toward the door.
“Shall we?”
I nodded and made my way out the front door and toward his shiny car. From the corner of my eye I saw him fumble with his keys, I heard as he pressed the button to the control and I swear I heard him laugh softly.
I reached the passenger side door and pulled the handle to open it, it snapped loudly. If I were still human my nail would’ve surely broken. I looked up, puzzled. I was sure he had unlocked the doors—I heard him press the button.
I stared at him as he walked toward me then stood next to me. He pressed the button once more and then opened the door for me, it flew up vertically.
“What the hell was that about?” I asked, obviously annoyed.
“I wanted to open the door for you,” he explained.
“Then you should’ve walked faster,” I shook my head and got inside. Smiling internally when he got this confused expression all over his hard and serious looking face.
Being inside his car, was worse than simply being close to him. His leather seats smelled of cedar wood and mandarin—a sexy, masculine scent. I exhaled loudly before he got inside. Control yourself Valerie.
The engine roared to life and his radio speakers exploded Red Hot Chilli Peppers with us inside. If roamers could blush, I’m sure his cheeks would be a perfect shade of pink. He lowered the music, “I’m sorry.”
I chuckled softly. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. So, how does this death guardian stuff work? I mean, where do we start?”
“We’ll start with my first assignment.” Desmond shifted the gear on reverse and sped off to someone’s death. I couldn’t help but cringe at the mere thought of it.
After listening to a few songs on his CD—a mixture of some of the best 90s rock, I interrupted our silence. “Nona explained how roamers can move faster than the speed of light, faster than a bullet even. So why are we riding on a horse powered car?”
His look almost seemed hurt. “I like to ride in style, is that a crime? I like cars.”
I shrugged. I had to admit I was curious to see how fast I could go.
“You don’t like my Benz?” he asked.
I almost laughed, who would be crazy enough to not like this car? It was the type of vehicle you only saw in the movies, the one dudes and chicks drooled over. “I like your Benz,” I nodded with a smirk.
I saw the corners of his lips rise up into a smile. “This car is a monster—it goes from 0-60 in 3.1 seconds.” His hands groped the stirring wheel and I was sure he would stop the car and beg to show me.
“I believe you,” I said when he began to slow down. “You’re not going to show me are you?”
“Another time,” he smiled. He parked the car on an empty block; the houses all looked alike and appeared to belong to wealthy people. There was a forest preserve on the right side of the road and a thick layer of fog escaped its way onto the streets.
“We’re here?” I felt my stomach twist itself into knots and my breath got caught at my throat. I took in a sharp uneven breath.
“No. We’re going to walk the rest of the way.” He turned off the engine and we got off.
We crossed the street and walked through the forest, making our way up the street unnoticed. Not that I thought anyone would see us—the block looked completely deserted.
“Listen,” I cleared my throat. “About yesterday—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Desmond interrupted with a shrug. “I shared the same reaction, and thoughts.”
I frowned.
“I mean about you—I shared the same reaction and thoughts but about you, not about myself,” he shook his head.
Was he rambling? Had I made him nervous? I peered at him from the side; he walked the forest as if he’d been here before—easily, his stance never tripping, always strong. I thought it’d be impossible to make this guy nervous or uneasy. But something told me he was, I even got the strange feeling that it was because of me.
“Flattering, but I still feel like a total dork. You got a good look at how I see you, and that’s sort of humiliating,” I breathed.
Humiliating? How about mortifying.
“It was only a glimpse. I try not to peer into someone’s head too much—give them some privacy. But it’s like an instinct to read someone’s thoughts when I first meet them. And your mind was irresistible.”
His voice was like satin smoothing all over my body. Like rich, smooth velvet crooning its way around my soul—around me. “Again, flattering.” I tried hard to control my voice. God forbid I make a fool out of myself again.
Was he flirting with me? He was flirting with me! Deep breaths, deep slow breaths. He paced his walk beside me, so I focused on a small squirrel nibbling on a nut a few trees ahead of us. It was the only way to control my thoughts, to heave my breaths.
Suddenly, he touched my shoulder lightly. My deep concentration on the cute little squirrel was gone—what squirrel!?
“We’re entering that house,” he told me as he pointed at a two-story mansion-looking house.
If he wouldn’t have said that exact phrase, I might have melted into his arms. But after letting his words register into my brain, I was back to hyperventilating. Only this time it wasn’t because I had a hot, hot, hot guy flirting with me—it was because we were about to virtually kill someone.
Chapter V The Grimmest Reaper
“Relax,” Desmond instructed. We were on the backside of the house. “No one else is home and the human is asleep.”
I closed my eyes and envisioned myself back at Nona’s home—my new home. I focused on the now familiar scent of her incense burning on the table near the painting of a white tiger. I felt my shoulders relax.
“Ready?” he asked. I nodded, unsure if my voice would convince him.
He twisted the knob and the door opened easily, I would have to ask him how he did that. But later, not now. He stepped inside, motioning with his hand for me to do the same.
As a human I had always considered myself to be a badass. I thought I was mature for my age, I worked, went to school, kept my grades up, and I was emancipated. A big plus on looking cool. But I never did anything like this—breaking and entering. Well we didn’t break anything, yet. But we were definitely entering. Desmond led the way through the kitchen and up the carpeted stairs. I know I wasn’t human, but I could swear I was about to have a heart attack, I would die before our victim for sure.
Like a true warrior, Desmond kept his cool. He walked past two closed doors and then stopped in front of the one at the end of the narrow hall. He pressed his back against the wall and waited for me to stand in front of him.
He pressed his lips together then whispered, “Stay close and watch carefully. There’ll be a test after this.”
How could he joke at this time? How could he smile slyly at me with his head in the gutter while we were standing right in front of the human we were about to kill then damn his soul to hell.
“I’m serious!” he whispered.
I nodded and pursed my lips. He turned around and opened the door. Inside was the bedroom of the poor human. He lay in bed, snoring loudly. I was amazed I didn’t hear his snores through the door. Inside, the walls seemed to shake, or maybe it was just me. It was the first time I saw a human since becoming a death guardian. It was like nothing I had ever seen—before me was a human surrounded by a dark black aura; the outer layer was covered in a muddy dark brown. This man was evil. I could instantly see his mind—definitely capable of murdering someone, I felt a tug toward his mind and felt as if I had been lingering in there for over a minute but I couldn’t see any significant ill-fitted actions committed.
I then turned my attention to Desmond. Walked carefully toward the bed and stood next to it, overlooking the slumbered soon to be corpse. He lifted his hands then tipped his head back. He wiggled his fingers and let out a soft, murmur-like breath and then inhaled sharply. His back arched, then he tossed his shoulders back in one hard blow as his head tipped further back, as if he were looking at the ceiling, but he wasn’t. Desmond’s eyes were closed, or at least slightly closed—it looked like he was squinting. His eyes were small slits and if I looked hard enough I could see the blue of his eyes rolling back and forth. His arms began to shake slightly then the body before him began to stir.
I took a step forward, then froze. The man lying in bed was panting, his face looked pale and it was instantly covered in sweat. His eyes were still closed, and he seemed unaware that two people were in his room—two angels of death. His body shook violently and his spine bended, lifting the small of his back off the mattress, then he collapsed hard against it. I saw a small cloud of gray consume the color of his aura and then it floated its way toward Desmond. The body was still, completely, and his lips were slightly open—he was dead.
Desmond let out a soft gasp as he grasped his chest, hugging his arms around himself as his body seemed to crumble before me. He pressed his palms against his bent knees then stood up as if nothing happened. His face was back to its usual self, the pain that flashed before his handsome features was gone.
He cocked his head up then nodded. “Let’s go.”
I normally would’ve challenged him—demanded that he explain what the hell just happened. But the sternness in his voice urged me to do as he asked.

Once outside and back in the forest I pressed my question. “What happened back there?”
“What do you mean? I took the guy’s soul,” he said automatically.
“Get serious Desmond. I’m talking about what happened to you. It’s obvious what happened to him.”
“Did Nona explain about the shinigami marks?” His voice came out deep and husky, so seductive it didn’t even sound like he had ever been in pain.
“Shini-what?” I asked, focusing my thoughts.
“Shinigami,” he mouthed out the four syllable word slowly, like he was talking to an idiot. “They’re marks on our skin. Taking a soul from the body the way we do, and for the reason we do, stains ours.”
“Are you talking about the tattoos?” I asked. Okay maybe I was slow, but not an idiot.
“Yes. Only we call them shinigami marks. Every time we take a soul, we get marked—it’s painful. Like no other pain death guardians have ever experienced. Taking a soul that was well on its way to becoming a demon feels like something is carving its way past us. The marks represent who we are—angels of death.” His voice seemed more calm and smooth, like the pain he felt was slowly leaving him.
“Is this why Nona asked you to train me?” I asked.
Desmond hesitated. “Yes,” he finally answered. “She hasn’t taken a soul in over fifteen years.”
“Fifteen years!” I shrieked. A flock of birds scattered away—I scared them.
Desmond laughed. It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. “Souls don’t age. We are portrayed as we were around the time we died. But we don’t age.”
“But I thought once we completed our contract we could…move on,” I said.
Desmond took long steps ahead of me, making his way deeper into the forest instead of toward his car. I followed him without asking questions. “We can, for some of us the contract extends over a long, long period of time. But Nona didn’t complete her contract, she’s just a roamer now, not a death guardian.”
I nodded, but something just didn’t make sense. “Then why did the council pick her to be my mentor?”
Desmond took a deep breath. “She was once the best, and it is my understanding that they…like you.”
I saw his eyes searching for something, distracting his gaze from me so that I couldn’t look at him and see what I already knew inside—he was lying. The council hadn’t chosen me because they liked me. I got a terrible feeling it was somewhat different to like, more like evil plans for me. I swallowed back my paranoia thoughts.
“Ah,” he breathed. “This is exactly what I was searching.”
The corner of my lip trembled up to a half smile. Was he taking me on a tour? He stopped before a small waterfall, shorter than either of us but beautiful in every way. He crouched down and focused his stare on the small spout. “Look,” he whispered.
I bent my knees and crouched beside him, he was pointing at a strip of colors—a rainbow. The sun’s rays penetrated the thick forest just right so that it illuminated over the water, casting a small but multihued rainbow.
“Look closely,” Desmond’s words were so close I could feel his breath against my cheek. His light, lemony scent suddenly cocooned me. It took all my concentration to focus on what he was trying to show me.
I frowned, squinting although my eyesight was perfect. The rainbow was all wrong—instead of the usual seven colors I saw twelve. “I don’t understand.”
Desmond let out a soft chuckle. “It’s amazing. Our enhanced vision allows us to see things we never could as humans. Human eyes couldn’t possibly determine these tints, they’re invisible to them.”
I stared at the never before seen hues, colors that until today, were non-existent to me. My gaping stare intensified as I felt my body relax. The sound of the birds nearby along with the splash of the water eased my tension. I took a deep breath and smoothed out my arms to touch the dirt below me. Suddenly his touch against my hand seized me, my arm tensed up as soon as his fingers touched mine.
“I brought you here so that you can understand the invisibility of these colors in front of human eyes. It’s the same for us. If we must, we can become invisible to them, just like those colors. It’s not that we’re not there, it’s just that they can’t see us,” he explained.
I looked down at our hands, he had placed his gently over mine and I saw it again—his shinigami marks. “Are you still in pain?” I asked in the barest whisper.
“No, just a bit drained. But being around you brings me peace—a serenity I don’t quite understand yet, it’s something like the way you felt right now in being here.”
“You were in my head again?” I almost fell back, I stretched out my legs and crossed my arms across my chest.
Desmond slowly stood up, a careful smile displayed on his lips. “Your block is very strong, but you weakened it when you relaxed just now. I’m sorry,” he bowed his head.
How could you stay mad at something so gorgeous?
“Promise me you won’t do that again,” I said, searching his eyes for truth.
“I promise,” he nodded.
We began to walk toward his car, a slow pace side by side. “So what did you see this time?” I asked.
Desmond cleared his throat. It was so easy to tell when he was trying to avoid something. “Not much, I had to move fast. I did see how you feel about what happened back there though.”
I shook my head. Was anything private anymore? “I don’t have to feel great about it, it’s something I’m going to do so I can move on and rejoin my family, wherever that may be.”
My words didn’t convince him, I could tell by the way he was looking at me. He had seen enough to understand completely how much I dreaded being this. How I saw it, I was a murderer, and so was he.
“Val, we serve as angels of death—severing the tie between the soul and the body. As death guardians we only seek out condemned souls and send them to their exile. We hold no control over the fact of the human’s death. You need to understand this, you can’t torture yourself.”
“I just don’t see it that way,” I admitted. “We don’t serve, we’re forced. Pawns, that’s what we are to them.”
Desmond shook his head, a few strands of his onyx-like hair fell over his deep blue eyes. “Every chess piece has its purpose—pawns are but an infantryman.”
“No, pawns are like peasants—we’re risking our soul, pawning our honor and working like slaves. We’re an entity used to further their purpose to damn souls to hell while our mind becomes polluted and tortured. That’s why we’re marked—we’re the shame of the angel universe,” I was babbling. Ranting on like I belonged to some cheesy after school debate team.
“I want to show you something,” he said. We had reached his car and he had opened the door for me again—like a true gentlemen. I didn’t protest this time, either because he walked faster than me this time or because I was angry.
He drove fast, silencing my words whenever I tried to speak. I even crossed my hands and pouted my lips but he didn’t budge. He just jammed his foot on the accelerator and put this car to good use. We reached a cemetery in five minutes. 0-60 in 3.1 seconds? More like 0-80!
He opened the doors and zoomed toward my side faster than a human’s heartbeat and gestured for me to join him. We walked further into the cemetery until he finally broke the silence. “See this entire roll of graves?”
I did. We stood in front of fifteen identical plaques, neatly side by side, each a different name but engraved with the same dedication.
“One man killed all of these 15 kids. Children ranging from age four to eleven were slaughtered by one man. His soul belongs in hell Val, and I’m glad I put him there.” Desmond clenched his jaw, biting down so hard I thought his teeth might begin to shatter. In fact, if we were human I’m sure they would.
“The man you took tonight—what crime did he commit?” I insisted. I understood his point, and I clearly saw how affected he felt by all of this. But I also had a point.
Desmond hesitated, “None yet,” he said.
“What ever happened to being innocent until proven guilty?” I asked. “Doesn’t that count anymore?”
“That clause only exists in the human world Val. We already know who’s guilty, even before they are,” Desmond approached me, taking short steps toward me. “The council and the oracle wrote our contract and there it dictates that we, the angels of death, condemn souls from the past, present and future.”
“I disagree Desmond—a past life’s sin shouldn’t count. The pain placed on humans is vile, and so is the pain disposed upon you,” I said.
“Obtaining the shinigami marks is the least thing I could do, especially when my suffering and pain is compared to these victims,” Desmond breathed in a sharp breath. He took one last step closer to me. “These bodies weren’t all killed in one lifetime; notice the dates on their plaques?”
I glanced at the tombs. Ten bodies were killed in the 1800s and five in the last fifteen years.
“He killed those five in his second life Val, the first death guardian assigned to him failed,” he closed the short gap between us; I could feel the heat of his body draping over me. The gallantly mixture of cedar wood and citrus enveloped me, entrancing me slowly.
I shook my head. “We obviously have very distinct views. I’m sorry but I still feel the same.”
I just couldn’t imagine how it could be possible for a soul to be imprisoned for something they did in a past life, or for a crime they will commit.
Desmond closed the gap between us and pressed his lips against my ear. “It’s because you’re still seeing them as humans. I’m talking about souls Val,” he whispered.
If I were still human, I would’ve crumbled right before him. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around his neck and bring him closer to me. Those deep blue eyes dug deep into my core, the best part of it all was that he was actually staring back at me. I nodded slowly and swallowed hard as I forced myself to take a step back.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll take you back to Nona’s now,” he said.