The Life After Trilogy: Soul Taken / Soul Possessed / Soul Betrayed. Katlyn Duncan

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       Chapter Three

      That lasted for two minutes. While I sat with an elderly woman, Irene, peacefully swaying in her rocking chair at a nursing home, I pondered what Felix had said.

      “I care for humans,” I grumbled. “Here I am, sitting with one, knowing she won’t die for another hour. I could be off doing whatever until the last second, like Aaron did.”

      The thought of Aaron made me want to punch things, so instead I focused on the woman.

      Her glossy eyes slid over to the space where I sat; my soul stiffened. It always freaked me out when humans looked in the area that I occupied.

      That might be part of the problem, my rational side chimed in.

      The Guard appeared corporeal in the Living Realm when they needed to and conversing with humans was part of the job. I don’t think I would fit in very well with humans if I freaked out every time one of them looked at me.

      I stared back at the woman, who held my gaze. I leaned closer to her and her eyes followed mine. I tried to stay put but my soul screamed for distance. I jumped out of the chair and stepped back from her.

      She blinked and returned to staring at the space where I’d been.

      My trainer, who had moved on to be Recycled soon after I’d been cleared to work solo, had told me that sometimes older humans knew when their time was near. It was like at Gate Seven; when they were ready for it they were able to breach the border from Living to After. Sometimes it worked like that when they were still in their bodies. They knew the end was near and they could sense their True Soul.

      My assigned cases were usually the ones that the newbies couldn’t handle, the deaths a little more traumatizing. They didn’t affect me; it was just a job that needed to be done. That thought rolled around in my head for a second. I wondered if my nonchalant attitude toward human death had been a deciding factor for Felix. But if I wasn’t going to do it, who would? Maybe Felix didn’t want to lose me from his service and that was why he’d turned me down? If that was the case I’d have to have another serious discussion with him. I didn’t need his selfishness getting in the way of what I wanted.

      I needed to prove to him that I was perfect for the job. And I’d start with Irene. I sat back down in the chair in front of her. Her eyes moved up to mine again. A feather-light touch moved down my spine, but I held my place.

      Irene smiled at me, revealing a toothless mouth. Her lips quivered as she tried to hold the smile. I couldn’t help but match her grin.

      A young staff member entered the room, carrying a tray. I got up from the chair, not wanting to touch the girl’s living body as she sat down in the seat I’d previously occupied. Humans couldn’t see or feel us, but if a soul ever made contact with something living, the intrusion to our being was like a sharp knife ripping through us. I avoided it at all costs.

      The girl fed Irene her lunch, some sort of pureed mush. Irene’s hands weren’t strong enough to hold a napkin, never mind a fork. She watched me while she ate, smiling and grunting to herself. The staff member paid more attention to her male co-worker in the next room to notice Irene’s behavior.

      “Grugamm,” Irene mumbled.

      “Yes,” the girl said. “Yum.”

      Irene’s eyebrows narrowed. Her shaky hand lifted in the direction of her dresser then at the space I occupied.

      The girl stood up and picked up the only decoration on the dresser, a small picture frame.

      “Your granddaughter?” the girl asked. “She was here yesterday. You had a good time playing cards.”

      Irene pointed at me again and mumbled.

      The girl held the frame out, her patience waning. I snuck a look at the picture. Irene and a brunette girl sat on a swinging bench, Irene’s arm around the young girl.

      I assumed she thought I was her granddaughter. She wasn’t entirely at fault. We shared similar features, blue eyes and brown hair, but as I looked closer I saw a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.

      “Grugamm,” Irene insisted.

      The girl shook her head and wiped Irene’s face, then placed the frame in her lap.

      “I have to go now, Irene,” she said. “I’ll be back soon.” She left.

      Irene sat back in her chair, smacking her lips together. “Ree—reaa—”

      I reached into my pouch. The still True Soul radiated peace.

      “Ready?” I helped.

      Her eyes didn’t leave mine as she slowly blinked.

      I pulled the essence from my pouch and stepped closer to her, placing it on the back of her neck.

      She sucked in a small breath and closed her eyes. The True Soul did its work by coaxing the rest of the soul out of the body. When it was finished, Irene Rogers’ soul stood next to me. I thought it was interesting that her soul portrayed her elderly looks. She had been happy with her children and grandchildren and it had imprinted her soul. She stood up straight and her hands no longer shook. The bright light around her was stunning.

      “Hello there,” she said, her voice clear and crisp. “Aren’t you beautiful?”

      I took her hand and transported us to Gate Seven.

      Felix established “off days” for Soul Collectors around my fifth year in service with him. Even though we never tired, he thought it was “good for the soul” to have time away from the job. He encouraged us to explore the world since we could transport anywhere we wanted. One of the limitations to Collectors was our transporting capabilities. Unlike the Guard, who could transport over long distances in the Living Realm, Collectors could only transport to the Living Realm then we had to use traditional human methods of transportation such as walking or riding a bus. Only in transporting back to the After would we be able to choose our next destination.

      I spent most of my off days in cemeteries. Other Collectors had found my choice of destination morbid and redundant to my daily life. But I found beauty and peace in them. Over the years I had traveled to every cemetery I could find, my favorites being the crumbling mausoleums in New Orleans. But in the spring I enjoyed staying close to home. I’d visited many of the New England cemeteries, yet one of them always stirred something inside of me.

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