Just under the wire! And an end, maybe? I would love to hear what you think!
Scott started when he realized the skin on the hand he had
landed in was warm, he imagined, before he scrambled to the ground, that he
could feel a heartbeat. This place
was familiar to him in a way that went deeper than his current life. He paused for a moment to collect
himself when he was standing on the relatively stable ground. He didn’t spend too much time thinking
about what body parts could grow out of.
Scott was in Soul’s hell and he had to get him back. He began to walk following the thread
that would forever connect them.
Scott tried to hurry, he didn’t want to be here any longer than he
needed to, and he wanted to get back before anything could happen to their
bodies. Scott didn’t know how long
he had been falling, or how time passed here. Everything was an enigma, except his purpose, to get his arima, his soul back.
*
Soul turned slowly to look to the owner of the voice, but he
didn’t see anyone there.
“Things are tricky here aren’t they, but it couldn’t be that
easy to find all the answers could it?”
Soul turned again, but as the voice was behind him again. Soul hated not being able to see who
was talking to him. He remembered
the inky whispers during his fall and the flickering images. He knew this voice was a continuation
of them, and as tempting as they had been he didn’t want to give in. He didn’t want to give in to the trick
of this voice either.
“What a clever boy, though you didn’t come here in a very
clever way. Leaving your body
behind, souls aren’t very sturdy when they are untethered, just like those you
saw there.” Soul couldn’t see the
gesture or the speaker but he knew that it was referring to the swirls of
darkness in the pool, and knew he did not want to become one of them.
“So clever boy what do you want to know? You must ask the right questions,
because as you know there are definitely stupid questions and I hear quite a
lot of them.”
Soul stayed quiet.
He didn’t know what he wanted to ask. He had already found more than he had expected. He had expected, had wanted, nothing,
and yet he could feel that answers he had been waiting for his whole life were
at his fingertips. But he also
knew that he could ruin everything with a word, ruin it in a way that went
beyond dying, beyond nothing. He
would be trapped in some unknown form, and there would be truly no way out
because he was already dead.
Soul thought of his mother, about what Sylvia was planning,
about how to get out of here.
There were so many questions that he could ask. He could ask how Scott was doing, and
whether he was going to stay dead.
But nothing seemed like the right questions. He wished he could draw, that he could be truly alone. That he could live a normal life. Knowing he wasn’t going to get any of
those things Soul sat down on the surprisingly warm ground. He wasn’t tired, but curling his
insubstantial arms around his fading legs was a small comfort. He hid his face between his knees and
closed his eyes. He had never been
good at asking questions, he was good at figuring things out, find ways to slip
through the cracks and avoiding questions, asking questions required
interacting, and speaking, two things that were not skill he had developed
further than what was absolutely necessary.
“How do I know what the right questions are?” Soul heard a
laugh and could almost feel the warm breath brush the back of his neck. He suppressed a shutter and closed his
eyes tighter. He imagined a face
for the voice, a person he couldn’t see was somehow better than a person that
wasn’t there.
“That is dangerously close to a stupid question, and not
deserving of a clever answer, so I will tell you an almost stupid answer to
match your almost stupid question.”
The voice seemed to come from changing directions, as if its speaker was
pacing. “There is no way to know
the right question, you must simply trust yourself.”
Soul sighed, he could argue that his question was slightly
better than the answer but he stayed silent. He had to trust himself to get out of this. His last few choices had helped him in
unexpected ways. He could do it again;
maybe he would find some unexpected answers.
“Who is watching through the eyes in the gate?” Maybe a question he didn’t particularly
want the answer to would throw the invisible speaker off, Soul felt that the
creature was bored. Boring it more
would definitely not be beneficial to him, and would not lead to him getting
anything out of their encounter. And as disturbing as the voice was, Soul
really didn’t want to be left alone here.
“Much, much better, that question is almost clever. They are my eyes, the hands are my
hands, the fingers and nails and lashes and feet- all of it is mine. I have been here waiting for longer
than you can know and I have grown, I have swallowed countless souls and given
them form, I have spat them out, shat them out, thrown them up and eaten them
again. Some grow and some
stagnate. Some float in pools of
my stomach and some rest in the hallows of my teeth, but they are all a part of
me, just as you will be some day.”
Soul swallowed. Information
yes, but not really anything he wanted to hear, and nothing that he knew what
to do with, nothing of what he needed to know.
“Is my mother here?”
“She is, because she is a part of you, she is here because
she is in hell, but she is not here, because this place, well, it’s all for
you. Your personal slice of
eternity. You will end up here
alone, but with everything and everyone that created you and will come after.” There was a small pause, if the speaker
had a body Soul would have placed a shrug in the space, he almost could feel a
small ripple under him, if the whole landscape had lifted a shoulder. “It’s rather complex. Language is not good for
explaining. You can only really
understand once you are a part of it.”
“Is my mother dead?”
Soul felt another laugh against the back of his neck.
“Oh that is such a long story my clever boy, but you will
hear it, because you have nowhere else to go, at least not yet. You have asked a clever question but I
do not think you will like the answer.”
*
Scott walked as quickly as he could, he was aware of the way
he was not quite here. It was very
clearly a place for the dead and it would not be a good place to be lost, or
stuck. He focused on the fragile
thread holding him together, connecting himself to Soul and to his soul. He passed from the mostly open
landscape into deeper and deeper forests of- body parts. He wondered what was in Soul’s mind to
produce such a place. Scott tried
not to look too closely to anything he saw, but as the forest got deeper he
began to stumble over obstacles he didn’t want to touch with his bare
hands. He was forced to slow down,
to look where he was going and what he saw did as much to disturb him as the
warm soft skin he felt every time he fell. Scott began to imagine he heard voices whispering to him,
promising him a break from the dissembled parts, a break from the almost heartbeat
he couldn’t quite ignore. He saw
shadows out of the corners of his eyes, slithering through his legs, almost
brushing against his face, promising answers, comfort, Soul. Scott flinched away from them and even
though he never felt them he tripped over them, tripped trying to avoid
them. He knew they lied, but the
deeper he went the better their promises sounded.
The thread seemed to be fading even faster than his
willpower, and each whispered thought that breezed through his mind held a
deeper compulsion. He could stop
for just a moment, retreat from the skin, the heartbeat, the horrible living
warmth. He could always
begin again. Time began to have no
meaning, he would find Soul eventually, did it matter if it was in the next moments,
or in the next lifetime? Scott
tried to hold onto his determination to reach Soul as quickly as he could but
each time he fell he got up less quickly.
Closer to the ground the heartbeat seemed almost soothing, the warmth
like waking with Soul wrapped around him.
The shadows whispered that he was already with Soul, that all of this
was Soul. That the heartbeat was
Soul’s, that the hands that grasped at him through the dark were Soul’s hands,
that each scratch he got from unseen fingernails were the same as Soul scoring
his back in the midst of an orgasm.
Scott finally saw a break in the hands, in the shadows. He had made it somewhere, he felt his
determination return but as it did the last pull of the thread
disappeared. Scott had lost his
Soul. If he would have thought
about the end of their bond he would have guessed there would be intense pain,
desolation, even death, but he hardly noticed its absence. He reached a gate covered in rolling
lidless eyes, and as he gingerly pressed it open, wincing at the smooth
slippery, and altogether too yielding flesh of the eyes, he realized he had no
direction, nothing to follow, and for the first time in his life he had the
opportunity to choose his next action based solely on what he wanted.
Scott was through the gate and he wanted back in his body,
back in his house, in his bed, but the homey image was incomplete, what he
really wanted, compulsion or not, was Soul.
*
“And so you see, the question of if she is alive is an altogether
more complex question than one would imagine.” Soul stared into the swirling darkness in the fountain, and
wondered if that fate, or the fate of his mother sounded worse. She had found a way to hide, but at
what cost, her personhood, her peace?
Soul was still angry with her for leaving him with a shadow, but the
alternative? To be in pieces so
small they could never be assembled, to be scattered bits of shadow aware and
incomplete, without direction?
Soul couldn’t imagine the feeling and didn’t want to. Pain was one things, stagnation was
another, but the deep incompleteness of no longer being one entity?
“You little boyfriend might be able to explain the feeling-
well that is if he remembers it, you were quite the naughty boy weren’t
you. Clever though, using your
body to get what you want. Though
you still haven’t quite managed to find what you really want have you?” Soul didn’t respond, but the voice
seemed to like talking, and Soul realized that he was a better captive audience
than digested, dissembled, ancient bits of souls. The creature must have gotten so bored waiting for him.
“I wasn’t just waiting for you, you know. I am waiting for many, many
things.” Soul had gotten used to
the sharp changes in subject during the story of his mother, but he didn’t
think he would ever get used to the bits of his thoughts being pulled from his
mind into the conversation.
“Well it sure sounds awkward if you think about it that way,
so try this way. We are essentially
in your mind now. And you, well
you aren’t quite anything right now, your thoughts are just out here in the
open, diffusing with the atmosphere.”
Soul looked down and found he had faded even more, his edges were gone
and the color that tinted the air around his consciousness was wavering, like
it couldn’t quite tell where he began and it ended.
“You don’t want to stay here much longer, free thoughts are
one thing, but to be only an assemblage of thoughts? Not really anyone’s favorite. Though your boyfriend is quite slow. I think he must have gotten distracted
by the sudden freedom.”
Soul looked up from his fading being. Scott was there and-
“What do you mean, freedom?”
“Oh stupid boy, that is really not a clever question. I was beginning to have such high hopes
for you. I suppose a bit more time
in the world might help you. I
will be lonely waiting for you to return, but the time will pass quickly before
I see you again I think.”
Soul stood, and the feeling was so strikingly similar to
sitting he almost fell, his molecules were spreading and instead of feeling the
ground beneath his feet he felt only the different temperature, the steady
thrum of what he had though was his heartbeat and its absence.
“But you have been so fun these few days, I will answer
it. The Gifts as you call them
fade here. They are nothing more
than beliefs and impressions, and as you fade what holds them together fades as
well. The bond is gone, and will
never be again. Your boyfriend is
close, but you will have to find him on your own, go quickly if you want him to
leave with you. His hell is a very
different place than here, and if you don’t find him quickly he will find out
what it is like before his time, and wouldn’t that just be so sad?”
Soul tried to gather himself, but only felt his being diffuse
more. He needed to find Scott. He had no idea where he was, or what
would happen if they couldn’t find their way back, the creature was gone,
though he never saw it his diffused being felt the change in the atmosphere
distinctly. Soul looked around and
noticed he was sensing more than seeing and his urgency ratcheted up another
level. The creature had said it
had been days and his body was waiting for him, Scott’s was as well and Soul
knew that if their bodies died they would be trapped in another way, even if
they made it out of this hell. He
choked back a laugh and searched again.
This place was endless and time was nearly gone.
*
Scott stood inside the gate and stared. A ghoulish shadow creature was wrapped
around Soul’s crouched body, whispering in an unknown language. Its head turned to face him, its
eyeless face smiling through Soul’s fading body. It wrapped itself tighter around him before vanishing. Soul stood and Scott watched the
impression of his love shiver in the air, fading and diffusing slowly, bits of
him drifting away, fading and settling into the soft skin of the ground. Soul looked around, his almost face
desperate, Scott tried to walk to him but was unable to get any closer no
matter how he tried. It was like a
nightmare, he could run but he didn’t move, he could circle around or stand
still, but he could only watch as little bits of Soul faded.
*
Soul spun fighting to feel Scott, searching inside himself
for the ache of Scott’s mourning, for his pain, his love, for the small thread
he had felt while falling, but the only thing he could feel was the fading of
his imagined body. The creature
had been right, the bond was finally gone, and Soul could only wish for it
back. He had to find Scott, and
they had to figure out how to get out of here, and both were things he had no
idea how to do. He stopped moving and called in his voice that was not a
voice. He pulled everything that
he was, everything in himself that called out to Scott and yelled. There was no sound and the effort caused
even more of himself to fade, but he felt something. A pause in the constant pulse. A stutter of thoughts, or the
whispering he had become so accustomed to. Everything was still and silent, and in that missed
heartbeat there was a glimmer of something that did not belong. Soul started toward the spot he had
seen. It was gone but Soul trusted
what he knew he had seen and reached. He felt nothing, saw nothing, but he knew from the
place inside his heart that was no longer his own that he had found Scott.
“Lets go home.”
He whispered, and even though there was no sound, he knew that he had
been heard.
*
Soul felt like he had been burned to the bone, he felt like
he had run a marathon in his bare feet and that he had not eaten in days. His soul hurt, his blood hurt, and his
lungs felt like the air was razorblades.
He wanted to throw up, but the thought of that much effort hurt not only
his body but his thoughts as well.
His body wanted to die, and each breath was an exercise in
masochism. Soul focused on the
solidity of his pain and told himself with each razorblade breath that it was
better than feeling himself fade piece by piece.
“It makes you think dying maybe isn’t worth it doesn’t
it.” The sound of Scott’s voice
was almost enough to motivate Soul to open his eyes, but the burning he felt
from remembering he had eyes was enough to deter him.
“If you ever want to look that deeply into you subconscious
just ask, there are much easier ways than dying. You almost started rotting.” Soul couldn’t stop the dry heave. He felt decomposed, but he would really rather not think
about his body as literal dead meat.
“That was harsh, I’m sorry.
I would give you some pain meds, but well you might die for real so you
are just going to have to deal for a few days.”
And so Soul dealt.
He was conscious of pulling each breath through his lungs, he was aware
of the water being dripped slowly down his throat and the balm that was dabbed
on his lips almost constantly. And
after an age Soul felt secure enough in his body that he let go, and slept with
only the lightest suggestion of dreams, there were lights and colors and
whispers and almost sensations, but each faded before he was fully aware, and
when he woke he opened his eyes in a field of poppies.
Soul blinked a few times, caught off guard by the lack of
pain. And realized that he was not
really seeing flowers, but a painting of flowers. He was lying not in a bed of grass, but in a real bed, with
arms wrapped around him and a hand brushing his hair out of his eyes. There was a strange lack of pain, Soul
almost though he had died for real, but, he thought slowly, if he had really
died he would be back in hell and this was entirely too nice to be hell.
Soul sat up slowly and turned to look at Scott, his face was
the most wonderful thing Soul had seen.
All his odd feelings were gone, his worries about the truth in them was
gone. He was finally able to look
at Scott and feel what only he felt, and what he felt was a strange fluttering
in his stomach, and heat in his cheeks like he had fallen asleep in the sun.
“Um hi.” Soul
said, then looked down at his hands.
He felt, shy, but more than that he just really hoped Scott still liked
him. Scott had never felt
ambiguous toward him, Soul knew, but he had never seen Soul without the
oppressive bond telling him that Soul was his everything. Soul knew he couldn’t be everything for
Scott, but he really, really wanted to be something.
“Hi to you, I love you.” Soul looked up sharply. There was no way it could be that easy. He had to be dreaming, alive but
dreaming, there was no way he could be in heaven so soon after all he had
done. He hadn’t been alive, awake,
long enough to make up for even a tiny bit of what he had-
“Stop thinking so hard. I had a lot of time to think while you were trying not to
die. I had a lot of time to tell
you all I need to say. I was
waiting for you to see me for real.
When I was stuck in the disgusting hell that is apparently your mind ,I
felt the bond break, and really nothing changed. They whispered that I could have anything that I wanted and
all I wanted was you. I think I
found my hell there, I could have had anything I wanted but you, you couldn’t
see me, and you are the only one that ever really has. It was torture and it wasn’t even a
moment compared to forever.” Soul
wanted to frown and roll his eyes, it was entirely too sappy, but he could
still feel the butterflies trying to claw their way out of his stomach with
their tiny harmless feet and he sighed instead.
“I loved you even when I hated you. Being dead was no fun without you. I think it wouldn’t have been hell if I
didn’t remember you. But I did and
you ruined my peace.” Soul realized
as he continued to talk that his speech was entirely unromantic. He employed the one tactic that had
been consistently effective in his life and stopped talking. Soul looked at Scott for a moment and
just let himself feel. He could
feel a smile trying to sneak its way onto his face, but it was just not going to happen. He kissed Scott instead, and when he
felt the corners of Scott’s mouth turn up he had to smile too, if only to keep
kissing him.
Soul let his hands creep under Scott’s soft shirt, he let
them trace up his back and around to the tight nubs of his nipples, he let his
nails train down the gentle bumps of Scott’s ribs, he let them feel the goosebumps
his touch had caused. And when
they had finished their journey he let them wind into Scott’s hair to pull him
closer.
Soul only pulled back when his still tender lungs reminded
him that oxygen was a necessity and not a luxury. Soul opened his eyes to look at the face of his Scott, his
love, and saw his own feelings reflected back at him. He watched love, he watched relief, and finally he watched
the spark of lust grow into a fire that matched to one growing inside himself.
“Please, make lo- fuck to me?” Soul’s voice was soft and he didn’t know what he was saying
and he didn’t care until Scott began to laugh.
“Make fuck to you?
That sounds fun but care to explain?”
“Fuck, love me, fuck me, just do something I love you and I
suck at words, I have to show you!”
Soul could feel his flush darken but he paid himself no mind. He had attention only for Scott and
getting his clothes off. He
started with Scott’s shirt because it was already in his hands. When the shirt was gone he pulled off
his own and was reaching for the drawstring on Scott’s pants when his hands
were caught in a gentle grip.
“You were literally dead three days ago and you haven’t
eaten, and you just woke up-“ There was a hint of worry mixed with the urgency
in Scott’s eyes and Soul hated it.
He was alive damn it and he was going to get what he wanted.
“Food will be there later.” He jerked his hands but they were firmly caught.
“I’ll be here later too.” Soul wailed in frustration and when Scott let him go he
flopped onto his back and pulled off his own pants. The feel of the sheets against his skin was almost more than
he could bear. It was almost worse
than the compulsion from Sylvia because there was no feeling of wrongness to
temper the feeling. He writhed and
palmed his cock. It hurt it felt
so good and Soul bit his lip just hard enough to draw blood. But instead of diffusing the feeling it
added to the overload of sensation flooding his synapses. He froze for a moment stunned by the
sudden intensity of his feeling.
And in that moment he could have sworn that a soft voice whispered to
him enjoy life, enjoy your body, enjoy
love.
“Soul?” Scott
looked down at him and he reached yanking Scott down for a kiss, determined to
get when he wanted Soul flipped them so he was sitting securely on Scott’s
stomach. He ground against the
firm muscles beneath him and knew that he could come easily just like this, the
warm friction of Scott’s skin almost more than he could comprehend, but still he
wanted more. Scott had finally
realized that Soul was not going to take his recent death as an excuse and held
him tightly, his fingers digging into the muscles of his ass, it felt amazing
and still Soul wanted more.
He ground harder and leaned down for a kiss, he didn’t pull away before
asking for lube, speaking against Scott’s lips, hoping that Scott would have
some nearby because if he didn’t Soul was going to hope spit worked better than
he had heard. Luckily he didn’t
have to find out because Scott was handing him a small bottle.
Soul growled in frustration when the small cap was too
difficult for his shaking hands to open.
He was about to give up again but Scott flipped them again and before he
had regained his equilibrium Scott was rubbing a cool slick finger against his
hole and Soul was able to breathe. Finally they were getting somewhere.
As Soul sighed Scott slid two finders inside him. The burn was intense but Soul didn’t
mind, he loved every moment- but his desire for more hadn’t left him. He writhed on Scott’s fingers unaware
of the myriad sounds he was making.
When he found his voice the only words that he could find were
variations on more, harder, please, and Scott.
When Scott’s third finger did little to alleviate the emptiness
that haunted Soul he wrapped his legs tighter around Scott and flipped them
again. The movement dislodged
Scott’s fingers but Soul didn’t mind because he was able to, without hesitation,
slide down the rigid pole of Scott’s erection until he sat flush to Scott’s
hips and he could breathe again.
“Oh fuck.” Soul
would have been satisfied to just sit for a moment and process the burn, the
pleasure, and the soul deep completeness he felt, but Scott had different
plans.
“Potty mouth.”
Scott said, and thrust up, he couldn’t go deeper but the movement shifted
their position so he ground against Soul’s prostate and Soul gasped- a breath
away from climax. He leaned
forward to rest his hands on Scott’s chest and when Scott repeated his action
the sensation was even more intense.
Soul flinched and tried to conceptualize the feeling but Scott wasn’t
giving him any time to think, he kept thrusting, kept grinding and Soul’s
ability to even try to think fled, all he could do was hold on and try to
breathe. He saw lights floating in
front of his eyes but it was nothing compared to the fireworks that were
building to an incomprehensible climax.
Soul’s muscles were clenching and releasing almost randomly, his legs
shook and if his elbows weren’t locked he would have fallen forward into Scott,
he gasped as the feeling grew larger than his body and in a moment he was sure
he wouldn’t survive, the fear only made the rapture more complete and in a
moment of clarity Soul knew that bond or not he would never be able to live
without Scott.
The feeling of physical release was almost secondary to the
release of emotion. Soul was
gasping and tears were falling down his cheeks as he laid his head against
Scott’s chest, the warmth of his seed between them and the feeling of Scott’s
release inside him soothed his burning skin. His muscles were like water and he couldn’t have moved for
anything. Soul felt the hand on
his back begin to move, stroking his sweat soaked back, soothing his breathing,
but not his tears. Soul let
himself feel the anguish from the whole year, the confusion, the relief, the
fear and the pain. He let himself
feel how tired he was, from uncertainty and from death. He had slept for days but his body had
no fuel. He had burned more than
he had in reserves and he was completely empty. He had only tears left and in a few moments even those were
gone. Unable to do a thing more
Soul passed out completely.
*
Soul woke again hours later and felt exactly how expected to
feel. Revived, but sore. He could feel his death and revival in
his bones. The need to experience
life as intensely as he could was no longer sustaining him and his stomach
gnawed at him. His eyes opened to
an empty room. And fear flooded
him. He was alone in a room
painted with poppies too familiar to be safe.
Before Soul could work himself into too horrible a panic the
door opened and the room was filled with the smell of chicken soup and warm
bread. His stomach gave a roar of
approval. Scott put the food on a
side table and pulled Soul into a sitting position against the pillows before
placing a pillow on his lap.
“I couldn’t find a tray so no spilling.” And even though the soup was from a can
it was the best thing Soul had ever tasted.
Soul wanted to discuss all that he had learned, but after he
had finished the soup he couldn’t stay awake for a moment longer. He knew that Scott was probably tired
of just watching him sleep but he couldn’t resist his body’s demands. He only had the presence of mind to
hand the empty bowl to Scott before sliding back under the covers and falling
asleep again.
*
Soul opened his eyes and for a moment he thought he was
blind. There was no light in the
room, and he knew that he was alone.
He remembered after sitting up that he was not in the scarlet room and
decided not to try and find the door.
He still wasn’t feeling himself and he had no idea how to get anywhere
from where he was. It was
difficult to wait, but he did.
There was a feeling that something had changed in the house, something
significant. It felt new but not
entirely, something had been different since the first time he woke, he just
hadn’t had the time to consciously think about it.
The house was dark, silent, as it had been before Soul’s
attempt to leave this world, but this silence was different. There wasn’t the feeling of oppression;
it was as if the house had released tension. Soul had never felt entirely comfortable in the house, and
he didn’t feel entirely comfortable in the darkness, alone, but it was a
different unease. It was
anticipation instead of dread. Soul
sat and felt, and looked for the words to recount his experience. He tried to
remember the invisible being’s words exactly and found he could not, but the
impressions he was left with were strong.
Soul was confidant he knew what Sylvia was trying to do, and he was
confidant that she would not be able to accomplish her goals.
Soul was getting decidedly tired of sitting alone in the
dark when the door opened. Even the slight illumination from the hall seemed
bright. Soul’s eyes easily picked
up Scott’s face in the flickering light.
“The power has gone out. I brought a candle.”
It would have been romantic if Soul weren’t so anxious to talk,
finally. He patted the bed beside
him, unwilling to stand even with the light of the candle. Scott set the candle on the bedside
table where Soul’s soup had rested hours before and sat cross-legged on the
bed.
Soul opened his mouth for his carefully thought out
narrative, but Scott beat him to the punch.
“Mother, Sylvia, is really not doing well. She hasn’t been since- well since the
bond, and she has gotten even worse since it was broken. Apparently she doesn’t have that much
power of her own. The bond, or its
lack of completion was giving her the power.”
Soul frowned, she had made the bond herself it didn’t makes
sense-
“How did she get power from something she created?” Soul felt the bed shift slightly as
Scott shrugged.
“I don’t understand it really. Something about potential energy, she should have known that
he power couldn’t last but she ignored it. I think so much time passed she didn’t really remember how
little Gift she had.” Soul still
didn’t understand but he had more questions.
“Is she going to be okay?”
“She could be, maybe.
But the people she called to help her- aren’t happy. It seems that her power had greater
reach than we thought. They aren’t
loyal to her, not really. She has
no one left. I don’t think that
anyone will take care of her. I
will miss her but I couldn’t- her time has passed.”
Scott rubbed his face and Soul guessed he was crying. He
didn’t mention it, he hated Sylvia but knew that Scott loved her, and would
always lover her even when her influence was completely gone. And with this new information he might
not have to share his plan, Sylvia was done and all Soul had to do was make
sure Scott would be alright without her.
Soul loved his mother even though he didn’t know her, he loved
her for her intentions, and for her sacrifice even if he would have given
almost anything to have really met her.
Maybe someday, somehow he would.
He would have a lot of time and many opportunities to ask questions once
he died. And hopefully he would
have enough time to come up with clever questions to ask her.
“They want to burn it.” Scott said suddenly.
“They want to burn the house to the ground.” Soul looked up sharply, not realizing how deeply he had
fallen into his thoughts.
“Why?”
“Because of whatever she was doing. It’s not safe to leave it here, just in
case she does survive, in case someone else wants what she wants, but it’s my
home, I don’t know where else to go.”
Scott was definitely crying now and Soul didn’t know how to
soothe him. He could always go
home even if there was no one waiting for him. He guessed they could go back to school but that wasn’t
really a home, and it seemed so unnecessary now, what were they going to do? Soul wrapped himself around Scott,
knowing his words would do nothing to soothe him, and they sat, rocking gently
for many minutes, until the smell of smoke curled softly, but persistently
under the door.
“Oh no” Scott whispered when it was certain the smell wasn’t
an accident. “I asked them to
wait.” But they hadn’t, whoever
they were, and they had to leave, immediately.
*
Soul had no idea where they were going, it was dark and they
had left the candle in the room.
They had nothing but the clothes they were wearing and each other. Soul followed Scott blindly hoping they
could beat the flames, and when they burst through the final door into the
garden the soft illumination of the stars was like heaven. The air was crisp with just the hint of
a chill, but the heat from the already burning house was oppressive. There was already a group watching, and
they joined them.
The fire was almost beautiful in its destruction. The sound of flames roaring and the
shattering of glass and loud cracks of beams breaking filled the night, louder
than Soul would have imagined, and it was awe inspiring to see how quickly the
fire destroyed the massive house and all the misery it had caused. It had begun to collapse in on itself
when Scott broke the cacophonous silence.
“Where is mother?”
Eyes dropped to the ground, and for a moment no one spoke.
“She didn’t make it out.” Nova said finally, softly, and even though he sounded almost
mournful everyone knew it hadn’t been an accident. Soul wrapped his arm around Scott, knowing it was an
impossible thing to hear, and an even worse implication, but Scott held his head
high.
“I guess we are finally free.” There were nods all around, but Soul saw one wicked smile,
almost hidden by soft wavy hair, an expression he had never expected to see on
Josie’s face.
