Page 17 of Souls We Rip

The moon was hiding behind clouds, casting us into shadows, while stars painted the dark sky, guiding our way to my lair. My stallion galloped into the night, its hooves breaking the dirt covered by needles.

Firs and pines stretched before us, their roots making it harder for the horse to advance.

Upon arriving at my cave, I had left the horse in the stable and floated the peasant’s body into one of the rooms I had kept untouched for centuries.

My master had given me this cave to oversee the community of peasants below the hill. Whenever my enchanted Mirror showed me a soul, I would descend upon it. This usually happened during the Girls’ Fair. Although that was my day, my master could send me to other areas of Romania whenever he wished.

The damp air of the cave struck me as I stepped inside it, the smell of freshly cooked food mingling with the cold.

My servant was lingering near my chamber, pretending to clean the Souls’ Mirror, though I knew it had already been polished the day before. Candles lit my steps as I entered the room, the scent of melting wax replacing the sweetness of flowers that clung to my cloak. A sudden headache gripped me.

“Boy, what are you doing here? Go fetch some food!” I ordered, relieving myself of the heavy garment.

I threw it on the stone floor and walked towards the shiniest mirror that had ever existed. I tapped it once. Red light blinded me for a moment, displeased that I did not offer it a new soul. I tapped again.

The mirror revealed a pale woman, resembling the one I had taken. Her horns were longer than mine, her eyes as white as milk. Storm-dark hair brushed the ground. Her skin was as soft as snow. If I was dark, she was light.

She was my ticket to freedom.

I only needed to persuade her to do my bidding.

With her, I could finally roam the Earth as a man again, as I had before this wretched punishment.

The servant returned, staring at the blood-dripping scythe propped against the wall, a crimson puddle forming beneath it.

“Make sure you clean it before I go out next time!” I barked, looking at the tray of food. Reaching for the wine glass, I breathed out in relief.

He nodded and placed the tray on the table. The aroma of hot mămăligă made my stomach growl.

I took the skull off, placing it on my bed, stained with the peasant man’s blood. I went again to the mirror, this time absorbing my reflection.

Slowly, the fur receded, replaced by smooth, pale skin. My ears returned to normal, hidden beneath dark hair. Hooves gave way to hands and legs. Only the eyes remained the same: white with thin blue lines crossing them.

My servant handed me a robe, which I wrapped around myself, covering my body entirely. I took a seat at the table, ignoring the cutlery, and began to eat with my hands. A long life with hooves forces one to abandon forks and knives for nobles. The small bowl next to the plate was filled to the brim with mujdei.

While sinking my teeth into the warm food, I thought about how her life would change. Seeing her determination made me question whether this peasant would truly be suitable for my endeavours. I didn’t need a wolf.

I needed a sheep.

From the images the Souls’ Mirror had shown me before the Girls’ Fair, the woman was precisely that. She lowered her head every time her father entered the room, always taking her sister up to the hill or to the church, running away from his wrath. But mostly, she hid behind the cows and the horses.

The ghost’s gaze bore into my head.

I whirled my head at him, his see-through body bobbing up and down. “What?” I growled, tearing the mămăligă in half and smothering it in the garlic sauce.

He pursed his lips, his empty eyes roaming over my face. “What should I do for the girl? Should I make a fire for her?”

I watched as the wax melted from the candles alight on the table. My fingers dipped into it, the scalding wax not even tingling them. “I have no interest in her well-being,” I muttered.

I had already lost a soul because of her.

Her spirit was pure, untainted, having never harmed a fly in her life. And for her, to save her despicable father, was a sign of naivety. I just wondered how it would play out when she would have to do what I will demand of her.

The innocence she harboured in her soul disgusted me. But a smirk pulled on my lips at the thought of it disappearing in thin air.

“Sure, master. Do you want her fed?”

The boy’s ignorance tested my patience. I clenched my fists as his insolence was leaving me hungry. “I do not care, boy! You can feed her pigs, chickens, weeds, bones, and rats. I could not care less. Now LEAVE!”