The Goat Man The first soul
The Goat Man
The first soul
I stood in my room all night, watching her chest rise and fall. From time to time, my ear listened to her breathing.
She looked just as the Souls’ Mirror showed me. Her hair sparkled like the stars, her eyes of pure white, waiting to be filled with the blue of the souls.
At one point, in her sleep, she started talking, pleading for help.
I knew she would have a hard time, and despite all my thoughts, she handled it better than I had imagined. Arriving later, my eyes followed every step of hers, admiring her strength.
Her eyes had a swarm of feelings, fighting to get out. Anger, awe, fear, surprise. Her defiance towards the Elk made me feel proud again. Oh, how I wanted to follow her steps. To speak up in front of him, to hold my stance.
I couldn’t believe what my mind could rattle, the envy I felt for her and the worry that troubled me.
In the moment the stag skull was placed on her head, I witnessed a wonder. Her form was more majestic than the stag itself.
The ghost visited me a couple of times during the night, unable to sit still. He placed her Souls’ Mirror on my table, its size demeaning for her.
The reason why I couldn’t participate in her baptism, besides daydreaming about my future life, was that I acquired a house.
A lair for me to live as a human.
But everything paled once I saw her almost naked body and her trying to cover it up.
I had the cloak prepared for her once she returned, so I summoned it with just a thought. The shame she felt overwhelmed me, and the need to whisk her from there and keep her safe drowned me.
Their laughter infuriated me to the point that I wanted to torture each and every one of them. It enraged me to see their smug skulls turned upwards as if she were less than them.
She was so much more.
And still…
I had a plan to follow.
A loud gasp tore me from my thoughts.
“You are awake,” I murmured, my eyes tracking her hands.
She stood up from the bed, a little lost, looking left to right.
Hiding from her, I placed a dark cloak over my body.
“We are in my chamber. You slept all night here. Your skull is in your room alongside the complimentary scythe.” I rendered the facts, hoping she would not panic.
Her long hair brushed the carpet, her toes dipping in it. She fixed her white eyes on me, a small smile appearing on her lips. “Thank you, Goat Man. For taking me out of there.”
I could only nod, the words stuck in my throat.
“I assume today is the day I get to take my first soul,” she mouthed, wrapping her arms around her, a slight tremor passing through her body.
Her eyes were locked on her feet, her muscles rigid. A beat went through my veins, a hint of shame snaking around my bones.
I stood up, towering over her, dread filling her beautiful face. “Yes,” I breathed, my nose scrunching up behind the hood.
“Then…I,” she babbled, focusing her eyes on my Mirror. “I have to look into it, and I will know, right?”
“Yes,” I repeated. With my mind, I conjured her Souls’ Mirror, placing it in her quivering hands.
One tap of her finger and the glass brightened. I stepped behind her and watched how an image of a man, his skin a warm beige, appeared. He was stepping into a river, studying two young women bathing, doing obscene gestures, making the women run for their lives.
“Is this the present?” she asked, her lower lip wobbling.
How I longed to soothe that trembling lip.
“Yes,” I said again. Did I know any other word anymore?
No, I didn’t. Because in that moment, seeing her scared broke a small piece of me. If she had asked to cut off my arm, I would have.
Her fragile state was my doing.
Everything I felt then was odd and unfamiliar to me. And I didn’t know what to do with that. My eyes widened at the revelation, surprised by what I was capable of thinking.
She lowered her head towards the mirror, ignoring my shallow breaths. “Where is this?”
I cleared my throat, trying to focus on the mission ahead.
Make her take someone’s soul.
“In ?ara Oa?ului. And that man is a teacher,” I answered, placing my palm over my chest. I suddenly got an itch that wouldn’t get away.
“A teacher?” she gasped, her eyes widening.
“Mh-mm. He does this and worse,” I said, tapping her Mirror once.
Image after image of the man taking young girls and boys to his house played on the glass. It showed us the moments, the evilest thing the teacher could do to a human. He threatened the youngsters that their parents would lose their assets if a word came out about what was happening.
“But he is supposed to be teaching children about life, not taint it!” Her voice trembled with anger, while she put the mirror carefully on the table, so as not to break it. The woman swirled around with too much force that she almost fell, if it weren’t for my arms.
Her breath caught in her throat; her eyes wandered over my hidden face. White eyes lingered on my neck, pulling a smirk from me.
I lifted her, guiding her to bed. “I will send the ghost to bring your meal. You will need strength, human.”
She squinted her eyes at me, a sly smile on her lips. “Ana would do.” Her voice was soft, but an impish look crossed her eyes. “We are somewhat equals now, aren’t we?”
“Ana.” Her name made my tongue touch my teeth, scraping it, making me feel things which I had forgotten. Things which should not be there without a heart.
Drizzle covered our coats and skulls, while mourning clouds wrapped around the sky. The air cleared over the fields, the wet haystacks were prepared to be collected by the peasants for feeding the livestock in the next winter.
The houses were sprayed over the hills, cows mooing and horses neighing here and there.
“I should do it alone, right?”
Her voice was a whisper in the air, haunting, but ethereal at the same time.
“That is how it is usually done,” I said, nodding. The clouds were getting darker by the second, so we had to make haste. “I do not need to teach you how to use a scythe. I expect you already know how.”
Ana dipped her chin once. She walked further; her feet strongly planted in the dirt. She didn’t want to use her powers as a Soul Ripper. She wanted to keep as humanly as possible.
Admiring her stubbornness, I followed her on foot.
We arrived at a house, similar to Ana’s, and I admired the elaborate paintings on the front of the building.
Sheep and shepherd dogs were milling around the house; hay was spread over the burnt grass. The wool of the herd was so damaged that nothing but a cut would salvage it.
The house was smaller; the light-yellow painted frames were the only splash of colour. Stray cats were stepping carefully on the tiled roof; their eyes fixed on the two skulls below them. Birds flew over our heads, their trill escorting us.
“Are you sure this man is evil?” she asked, stretching her hooves.
As the dogs took notice of us, they rushed to our feet. I stopped them with a hand, commanding them to go back to their herd.
“The Mirror showed you as such,” I replied, watching the sheep go astray from the house. “The Mirror, unless instructed, doesn’t lie.”
She fumbled with her skull. “I hate this thing.”
“Take it off, then,” I shrugged. “The scythe will scare him anyway.”
“How do I call it again?” She took the skull off, her fur receding, leaving behind a breathtaking woman, covered by a white mantle.
I ordered it to have it in contrast with her hair. When she descended from the cave earlier, I thought my lungs forgot how to work.
“Think about it and it will come.”
Before her baptism, I gave her my weapon just to see how she would manoeuvre it. Needless to say, she was skilled at the swooshing move. She gained experience with it by working in the fields, under her father’s scrutinising gaze. Just thinking about that man made me curl my upper lip.
Ana’s eyebrows joined, and in the next moment, the blade materialised in her palm.
Her steps did not falter, her eyes steady on the door. She hesitated on the doorstep, moving the scythe from hand to hand.
She pondered her next move, the scythe shaking in her hands. Her long dark hair moved on its own accord, touching the mud lightly from the teacher’s yard.
Out of the blue, a piercing shout came from the house, the door bursting open from Ana’s power. The uncertainty of whether I should follow nagged at me. I took a tentative step when a schoolgirl came out running and screaming at the top of her lungs that she was being raped, her eyes in a haze.
“The angel appeared!” she yelled when her gaze met Ana’s.
When the schoolgirl saw me, she fainted, her body falling limp to the ground. Not feeling offended, I took off my skull and sent it back to my lair. I placed my cloak over my head, crouching down to the limp girl.
The sound of blood gurgling from inside the house hit my ears.
The schoolgirl was still alive, so I sent her home with a flick of my hand after checking her pulse.
Ana got out, her white cloak, spilt with blood, reassembling the Angel of Death. Her pale face was painted with crimson liquid, mirroring tears.
I bowed my head as I felt her power, admiration spreading over my face.
In her wake came the man’s limbs. His head was rolling down the stairs, right where the sheep stood.
As soon as Ana was out of the house, vomit came through her mouth, the contents of her stomach decorating the teacher’s porch.
“He was raping her inside. I don’t…I don’t kn-,” she sobbed, crashing into my arms after she wiped her mouth.
My body came closer, protecting her from her own emotions.
I feared she was becoming what I once was, without even realising, due to the contract.
Hope that she would ignore the dark side of her powers blossomed in my body. Else, how could I explain that a soul like hers was not meant for dark activities, such as killing?
I soothed her as best as I could, taking us away.
Instead of going to my lair, I transported us to another place that was of importance to me.
There were a few of those. One, I stashed away deep down in my mind, and the second one was right before our eyes.
The gorge that split Romania and Serbia, where the Danube passed, was the place where I could breathe.
The narrow passage between the tall rocks gave me the impression that I lived between two worlds.
And that was right. I was, with my wish to be a human again and the one to stay there and protect the woman behind me.
Odd feelings tried me those days. I thought them long gone and forgotten.
I took off my hood, letting the breeze rustle my hair. My ears perked at the gasp Ana took, and I raised my eyebrows.
“If the nape of my neck makes you have this reaction, then how will you act when you see my face?”
For a brief moment, I wanted to make her forget about the blood that coated her garments and the fact that she killed a man. Instead of facing her, I watched as the river flowed.
Its murky water formed short waves from the wind. The contrast between the darkness in it and the vibrant green of the trees that stood atop the rocks was the same battle as in me. One side wanted to thrash everything in its path to conquer the world. And one wanted to just breathe.
“Then why don’t you?” she asked, above the wind. “Why are you hiding from me?”
I swallowed, trying to find a plausible reason. And the only one that came to mind was that I was scared. For her to see me. All of me. I didn’t want her to think that the man who stood behind the goat skull was vulnerable.
I didn’t want her to read my emotions and feelings on my face. Not when she had more courage than I did. I had no idea how to express the admiration I had for her, still keeping her faith, when there was nothing as such in me.
Because even though she had no heart, she acted as if it were still pumping blood.
“Goat Man?” she whispered, making me bristle.
“I can’t,” I replied, quietly. “You’ll judge me.”
She puffed. “You should know by now, Goat, that my belief does not let me do that. I saw your worst side. I think at least I deserve to see your good one.”
“How do you know it is my good side?” I asked, my shoulders raising.
“It cannot be more frightening than the skull, right?” I heard the smile in her voice, and I turned, my pulse quickening.
Her eyes stayed on my feet, and when she noticed that my position had changed, her gaze started to ascend. She stopped at my hands, a blush creeping on her neck. Ana swallowed.
“Are you scared to look me in the eyes now?” A smirk appeared on my lips, but it disappeared once her icy gaze bored into mine.
“You are not the monster I feared,” she breathed, and if I had a heart, I would have felt it against my chest. “You don’t look like a devil.”
Her words made me laugh so loud that the ground rattled under our feet. She didn’t see the reason for my improved mood, as her eyes continued to roam over my face.
She tilted her head, showing a drop of blood staining her pristine skin. Her eyes took in all of my face, and the fear of being vulnerable came back. I never felt so small under someone’s gaze. Not even under my master’s.
“Thank you,” she murmured. When my brows joined, she clarified. “For showing me yourself and for taking me out of there.”
I nodded. The strangling sensation of being open to her was too much for me. “Let’s go. We need to find the second soul. The faster we finish this, the better.” I placed my hood on my head again, hiding.
There was no point in lingering here if she felt better.
But the image of her lashes dripping over her cheek and her shoulders deflating left me scarred.