Page 6 of Soul Keeper

Zoe drew a startled breath as she emerged in a central lobby. Small golden specks of light shimmered in the air, as if dancing to the music. But as the music built into a merry crescendo, Zoe’s eyes widened in surprise. Suspended in mid-air were a series of instruments. A guitar that merrily strummed itself. A trumpet that blasted shrill staccato notes across the room. And a pair of castanets that excitedly chattered with a life of their own.

“What on earth?”

As Zoe entered the space, an audible intake of breath echoed through the chamber. At once, the tiny lights dispersed, the instruments tumbled to the ground, and the chamber was bathed in an eerie silence. Zoe shivered with the feeling that someone, or something, watched her from the darkness. And yet, she couldn’t see a soul.

“Is somebody there?” As a series of hushed whispers rippled through the shadows, Zoe peered into the gloom uneasily. “I don’t mean to bother you. I just need to use your phone…”

Zoe watched curiously as a faint light emerged from the darkness, and shyly peeked from behind the wrought-iron staircase railings.

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” Zoe peered into the gloom as another ripple of whispers passed through the shadows. “You can come out.”

Zoe held out her hand as the light slowly approached. She watched as it playfully danced through the darkness, encircling her as if it were inspecting her. Its light bathed her in a beautiful golden glow, like stardust that sparkled with an otherworldly magic. She reached towards the light curiously, until it neared the tip of her finger…

A deep rumble shook the earth. Zoe gasped as the light fled into the gloom, until the chamber was draped in velvety darkness once more.

“It’s okay, you have nothing to fear…”

But Zoe’s voice trailed off as she peered into the darkness. The shadows stirred like thick storm clouds brewing on the horizon, lengthening across the chamber and consuming all traces of light. Zoe stumbled backwards as the darkness approached, bringing with it an icy chill, until dark mists caressed her with their cold embrace. She shivered from their touch, until her breath turned to clouds of fog and her blood froze in her veins. As her heart quickened in fear, she studied the shadows warily, sensing something lurked deep within them.

“Who’s there?”

Zoe drew a startled breath as the shadows stirred and solidified before her. She watched in horror as a figure emerged, and paced towards her. A man with a lithe, yet muscular, body, his torso draped in a silk shirt made from the shadows. He possessed a striking yet deadly beauty, with cheekbones crafted by a master artisan, and eyes that would captivate the devil himself. Eyes that held Zoe in their gaze.

As the golden specks of light retreated into the darkness, Zoe finally understood the reason for their fear. The man of shadows stepped towards her, his eyes burning with an otherworldly magic. And she had stumbled right into his lair.

3

During her tenure at Chthonic Power Solutions, Zoe had endured an onslaught of health and safety courses that made watching paint dry seem like a thrilling pastime. Wheelie chair races in the office were a strict no-no, and creating a makeshift zipline using Ethernet cables was frowned upon. Photocopying body parts at the Christmas party? Also, a definite negative.

Yet, in the labyrinth of rules that comprised the company handbook, not a single paragraph touched on the protocol for encountering a man made of shadow. A man who was headed straight for her.

“You made a mistake coming here, mortal.”

Mortal? If Zoe was a mere mortal, she shuddered at the thought of what this man could be. She glanced fearfully at his body, a being made of living shadow, and staggered backwards in fright.

“I think there’s been some kind of mistake…”

“You can say that again.” The man stepped closer, his dark eyes studying Zoe like a predator to its prey. “This is my kingdom. And we don’t welcome intruders.”

Zoe drew a startled breath as the darkness gathered behind the man. As he took another step closer, a stab of fear spread along her spine. But despite her hammering heart, she forced herself to stand her ground. This was nothing more than lack of sleep and an overactive imagination. She needed to get to Spring Valley, and this man, or more specifically, his phone line, were her only hope of doing so.

“Trust me, I don’t intend on staying in your kingdom any longer than necessary.” Zoe fixed the stranger with a formidable glare of her own. “And it will take more than some cheap magic tricks to scare me away.”

“Oh, I won’t scare you away.” A devilish smile flickered across the man’s lips as laughter reverberated through the gloom. “But they will.”

“They?”

Zoe gasped as four brightly colored clouds burst from the darkness. Within each one, a figure emerged, dressed in the traditional clothing of a mariachi musician. With a cry of excitement, they plucked the strewn instruments from the ground and flew through the air. Zoe pinched herself, convinced she must be dreaming as the quartet of sombrero-wearing men hovered before her. But no matter what she did, they remained before her, their translucent bodies made of nothing more than smoke.

“It can’t be.” Zoe shook her head in bewilderment at the strange and magical sight. “You’re… ghosts!”

With a hearty cheer, the quartet launched into an impromptu performance. Zoe shrieked as the quartet of ghosts flew towards her in a medley of merry music-making. With a scream of terror, she turned on her heels and fled from the chamber, the clacking of castanets nipping at her heels.

Zoe raced through the gloom of the motel, her heart pounding in her chest as the mariachi band pursued her. She burst through a pair of saloon doors and stumbled into a dust-covered diner, before she drew a startled breath once more. A burst of green smoke exploded from behind the counter, until the ghost of a woman emerged.

“Evening, sugar!” Zoe yelped as the ghost fixed her with a warm smile. “My, oh my, you look deathly pale. I’ll whip you up something in no time!”

With a flick of her hands, the air filled with saucepans, bowls and kitchen utensils. Zoe ducked to avoid being struck by a stray whisk, while the ghost hummed to herself contentedly as she plucked floating ingredients from the air, like a conductor to an orchestra. As the ovens roared to life with gusto, Zoe backed away to the closest doors, before she made her escape once more.

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