Page 29 of To Trap a Soul

Although it was proper for a woman to wear a dress, many choosing to wear a bone corset, Lindi had forgone such attire. She needed the comfort of men’s apparel, even if she wished to snuff the life from them.

She crossed her boot-clad feet, tucked them under the bench she sat upon, and laid her forearms across the long bar counter.

Grayton Town was simple and small enough that they hadn’t heard anything about the Demon rumours. They hadn’t begun erecting walls, and a small part of Lindi felt guilt regarding that. She wanted to inform them that they should begin protecting themselves just in case, but she also didn’t want to be thrown into their loony cells.

She could turn intangible and disappear, but she didn’t want that headache.

She just... didn’t see it working out in her favour, especially when her current mission required that she walk through Grayton freely.

Enough so that she could sit in this well-maintained, newly built, large tavern. The Blackbutt gum-tree timber used to build it gave it a cream-grey finish, and much of the same material was used to build the tables that furnished it. Pushed up against the walls, all the seating areas were away from the centre of the long building to allow people to carouse and dance in the middle.

A caged counter blocked occupants from freely taking from the barrels of wine, mead, and ale, with a dim staircase leading to the guest rooms on the two upper levels.

The decorations were minor except for a grand – although plain – fireplace, a brass chandelier with dozens of lit candles, and some paintings of beautiful landscapes. Gridded glass windows allowed subtle daylight to leak in, and could be openedto let a small breeze in throughout the day to help with the stench of body odour, tobacco, and booze.

Since it was late summer, the windows did little more than allow the hot night air to blow out the stuffiness and give onlookers from outside a beacon to follow to merriment.

As much as she would have liked to ask for a pleasant meal just for the taste, as hunger was non-existent for a Phantom, her funds were exceptionally small – despite having pilfered the pockets of all her fatalities. No, this mug of cooling wine would have to do to satisfy her tastebuds. It also ensured she didn’t look out of place. With her cloak hiding that she was a woman, she eyed those drinking casually before settling on a well-dressed, unassuming group.

Four men sat in the corner of the tavern, using its busyness and loudness as a shield while they likely discussed despicable schemes. She couldn’t overhear their conversation, but she knew them to be of the occult. Their gazes often slipped to a lone older gentleman wearing travelling gear and a wedding ring on his left finger.

Either the father or an acquaintance of their next victim.

Their vile hands would never reach her. At least, not while Lindi was around.

When the lone man stood to leave, the four occultists were swift to exit behind him, with enough distance between them to appear as though they weren’t following him. Lindi did the same to her next fatalities. Often using a combination of her Phantom abilities to hide in the shadows, she also let a puff of black mist scatter from her very skin to further shield her.

She pushed darkness beyond her cloak, wasting Weldir’s magic with a deceptive reason should he ever ask why.

Since the lone stranger stumbled towards his home on the outskirts of town, she followed the occultists at a meandering pace.

Lindi knew they’d likely steal their next victim another night, but she wished to move on from the town shortly. The occultists were growing wary because of their disappearing acquaintances, who never returned from their adventures.

They had received information that they were being picked off and had begun acting more rashly than before. They didn’t know why, most assuming it was Demons reaching towns or bandits. Lindi needed to be faster if she wanted to catch them all – especially when their targets were infrequent and sparse, making it harder for her to track them.

In hindsight, there actually weren’t that many men, and she’d already travelled great distances across Austrális. She’d started at Rivenspire, which was far east, then headed due west, and had been circling back ever since. She’d never seen the ocean before her journey, but she’d been all along the coasts of Austrális. She’d like to settle in a town with a beach for a few years and finally feel as though she could take a breath, but that was only something she’d reward herself with if the oppressing evil of the occultists was fully vanquished.

She wished their disappearances were an act of their ‘Almighty God’ smiting them for their wickedness.

Alas, no, it was just a little human woman.

One that was steadily sneaking up on her fatalities with every quiet, calculating skulk.

The cold blue of the waning moon shone above the intermittent orange glow of the streetlamps against the cobblestones. Avoiding the light as much as possible, Lindi kept to the shadows so her shrouding mist didn’t look too out of place. Making sure the ridges of her boots didn’t knock against tiny rocks or shift in the quiet, Lindi ignored the two-storey buildings, their small gardens, and their fences, keeping her gaze on the enemy.

The waft of pleasant, home-cooked meals wrapped around her mind, stirring just the mildest nostalgia that never truly faded. She refused to focus on it, not as she neared ever closer.

Once these occultists were far enough from the centre of the town and there were no other pedestrians in the streets, Lindi struck.

Unable to wield Weldir’s magic while she was intangible, she turned solid and stepped onto the path behind them. She flung her right arm forward, and a black tentacle of chalky mist and sand shot from between the cracks in the cobblestone. It wrapped around the rearmost occultist’s neck, tight enough to stifle his choke, and she pulled her clenching fist to her side to yank him back.

Before any of them could notice his disappearance, she threw him into the wall of a building down an alleyway and walked past it. With his back against the wall, his feet a metre from the ground, his legs kicked and squirmed as the magic strangled the life from him. He clawed at his own neck to free himself, but nothing would save him – just like the bindings she’d once been incapable of escaping.

As she launched her left hand forward to conjure another black tentacle, one of the men noticed her in his periphery. He gasped and stepped to the side as if he’d seen it coming – although it had merely been a coincidence. She figured he was just surprised there was anyone on their path, since they likely wanted their stalking to be shrouded in secrecy.

She was a witness, especially as they’d come upon the lone gentleman’s home, and they’d slowed to a crawl. If anyone went missing, and the townsfolk asked for information, she was an unfortunate loose end for them.

One of them drew a dagger while he indicated with the point of his crooked nose at Lindi. They all turned to her.

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