Page 5 of My Soul Is His

“Right, well, this is Cavum Terra. You killed yourself and you’ll be here for the rest of eternity.”

The sounds of their weeping fill the air, a chorus of despair as Marla presses close, seeking comfort. I sigh, the sound barely audible. I try to comfort her as I place my arm around her shoulders.

“Whatever mental illness plagued you on Earth will now manifest as a physical shadow demon and you will have to fight it off. Be skeptical of everything you hear. They like to play games.”

“What do we do?” asks the dark-haired man.

“Form friendships. Stick together and run like hell,” Marla whispers. She offers them a sympathetic smile, and we lower our heads before walking away.

“You sure don’t sugarcoat it, my dove.” I glance back toward the three souls who didn’t scatter, only to see the one with the mohawk wrapping her arms around herself.

“Why would I? Nothing about this place is joke-worthy.”

I grip her hand, and we walk past the cabins of the Lords, or Gods. They’ve never given us any information on what they are.

Jerking her away from the large crowd forming of new spawns Marla glares at me, but I tilt my head to the one girl standing solo. With a deep sigh, she bears a sweet smile and lets go of my hand. We shuffle over to her, and fearful eyes stare at us like we’re the enemy.

“Come on, you can help us with the next batch,” Marla tells her before turning to walk toward the bustle of people in the large field.

I slow to fall in step with the new girl. “What’s your name?”

She pulls down her black-and-white striped long-sleeve and walks beside me. “Chloe, I’m sorry if I seem any kind of way. This is all a lot.”

“Don’t be sorry. Life is hard, and it doesn’t get better here.” I give her a tight smile and glance around for anyone else.

As much as I hate the walks and the way Marla has pushed me to be this way, we share an unspoken bond, a silent promise that no one gets left behind. When someone can’t handle the information, we pull them into our little world and help them until they are strong enough to branch out on their own.

Marla has done all of this while her demons play her trauma like a matinee. I’m proud of her, though I fear she may never grasp the extent of her achievements. However, I have the rest of eternity to prove it to her.

“Calm down, I know it seems futile, but I need everyone to shut up for a minute. Please.” Marla’s voice shouts at the crowd and I grab Chloe’s wrist before we jog to stand behind her.

“If you want information on why you are here and what to do next, I suggest you listen,” I tell them.

Wide-eyed, dishevelled individuals stare back at us, some already gazing around. Heart-wrenching sobs fill the area. A few have dropped to their knees and others are storming toward us.

The crowd recoils as a tall man barrels forward, his voice a raw, ragged snarl. "Are we in Hell? What the fuck is happening?" His words punch through the murmurs of the crowd, sharp and desperate.

Sweat glistens on his flushed skin, his muscles taut like wires about to snap. Every step he takes is heavy, deliberate—his boots scuff against the ground as if he’s fighting the earth itself. His wild gaze darts between faces, searching for answers. The people nearest him shrink back, some muttering excuses, others frozen in fear.

A woman stammers, "I—I don’t know—"

The man cuts her off with a sharp jerk of his hand. "Bullshit!" he roars, spit flying. "You see this? You see what’s out there? And you’re just standing here?"

His chest heaves, fists trembling at his sides. The air reeks of sweat and panic. He’s not just angry—he’s terrified. And a terrified man with nothing left to lose is the most dangerous kind.

I step in front of Marla to block the man's progress, then raise my hand to warn him. Marla’s gentle touch on my shoulder grounds me. The man slows his stride and I move beside Marla.

She clears her throat. “This is Cavum Terra. You’re here because you took your own life. It’s now about surviving your mental illnesses on the outside, because they are going to play with you. Rapid healing is in place, but you will bleed, beg, andplead to die. Nothing can solve it. My best recommendation is to form groups. Make friends and become a community. Run and fight and take care of each other.” Marla bows her head.

“I don’t deserve to be here. Suffering on Earth was enough!” a tiny shout raises from the back of the crowd. A woman with dark hair steps forward, wringing her hands.

“You can’t just leave us here. What are we supposed to do?” A man in a business suit steps forward and grabs Marla’s arm.

I dart between them, the scent of his cologne sharp in the air, and pull his hand away.

“All of you can become a group, or branch off into smaller ones. I know you’re angry,” I tell him and squeeze his shoulder.

“Will we die again?” the tall man asks, his face flushed, his fists uncurling.

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