Soul Taken. Katlyn Duncan

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      “Give the man a minute to finish his food,” I said, even though I wished he would stop. The slurping sounds would haunt me for some time.

      Dylan’s almost translucent blue eyes stared up at me, pleading.

      Crap. I had broken the kid’s concentration.

      “You can do this,” I encouraged.

      You will do this, I amended.

      “Um… Maggie… so when…” he mumbled.

      “When you feel the vibration within the True Soul intensify you will know it’s time to coax the soul from the being,” I instructed.

      “I think I feel it!” Dylan shouted. He covered his mouth with his arm and looked at Joseph. The human sucked his fingertips as if they were going to somehow manifest more food.

      “Relax,” I said.

      I led Dylan to the back of Joseph’s chair. “Where is the connection?” I prompted.

      “Here.” He moved the True Soul to the back of Joseph’s neck.

      “Okay… good,” I said. “Lightly place it against the body. There you go.”

      As much as Dylan annoyed me while on our missions, his attention span more akin to a goldfish, I found that when the job became serious, so did he. I sensed my reputation had a lot to do with that. Other Collectors didn’t think I heard the whispers behind my back about my rigorous training methods, but any damage my trainees made to the human soul was on me, which didn’t bode well for my record. Or the souls. But, as much as I was feared, I knew they respected me and that was all I cared about.

      Besides, it wouldn’t be too much longer before I said goodbye to the Collecting job. Soon enough, I’d be on the Guard. I imagined donning the black uniform and strapping the massive standard-issue broadsword to my back. All the stress of Collecting behind me, and it would be worth it.

      The Guard were an elite group of souls. Soldiers that protected humans and participated in top-secret missions, earning collective respect from everyone in the After.

      “Um,” Dylan mumbled, pulling me back to the present.

      I let Dylan position the True Soul against Joseph’s head. My fingers moved as if I held the essence. Each Collector had their own methods of coaxing the soul from the body but I wouldn’t let any of my trainees into the field until my technique was perfected. It made the job quicker if the True Soul made contact with the body right before it died.

      Joseph stilled at the unseen intrusion. That was the point in every Collection where everything was out of our hands. The True Soul takes over.

      Joseph coughed and clutched his chest.

      Calm spread through me as we watched Joseph struggle with his left arm. The man shook it a few times before squeezing the skin over his heart. He coughed a sputtering breath and moaned, leaning back in his chair.

      “It’s going to be okay,” Dylan whispered, low enough that I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to hear it.

      Joseph continued to gurgle and cough, leaning forward in his chair.

      Dylan’s hands wavered as his target moved but I reached over and pressed my hands against the back of his.

      “If you screw this up I’ll make sure you don’t touch another one for a year. Understand?”

      A squeak burst from his lips, but he nodded in agreement.

      Dylan repositioned his hand and I moved mine away.

      Joseph reached for the telephone but, before his fingers could brush against it, he stilled.

      The True Soul finished its work, the essence lit up like a star in the night sky as Joseph’s soul released from the body. The True Soul secured its connection to the back of Joseph’s neck and melded into the soul.

      A younger and fitter version of Joseph stood in a not-quite solid form before us, staring at his hunched-over body. “Who are you?”

      How a soul looked when Collected differed with each case. Usually when younger humans died their soul would reflect an imprint of their body, like in Dylan’s case. In older humans, like Joseph, the soul molded itself to whatever time in the human’s life that represented the happiest or most influential moments.

      I grabbed Dylan’s hand and he did the same to Joseph. The younger Joseph looked frightened as he stole one last glance at his body before the world shimmered around us into a bright white light.

      Chapter Two

      A bit of pride welled within me as we safely arrived at Gate Seven, our final stop. The border between the Realms appeared as a bridge, which always remained the same even though the landscape changed. It appeared differently based on what the soul thought their after-life would look like, which meant we got to experience it with them. The True Soul extracted the image from the soul and projected it, easing the transition from the Living Realm to the After. Most souls imagined endless clouds, but many had other ideas.

      Plush green grass filled the landscape as far as the eye could see. A setting sun appeared to rest atop a ridge of mountains in the distance. Joseph’s bridge connected two sides of a trickling stream. His soul heaved, as if it still needed oxygen, a leftover of breathing for fifty-six years.

      On the other side of the bridge stood one of the Gatekeepers, Gwendolyn. Her radiant crimson hair ruffled in the wind. Her bright golden eyes sparkled against Joseph’s manifestation of the sun. She’d wait there until Joseph’s soul was ready to let go of its humanity and move on to the After.

      I looked into the distance; more Gatekeepers stood on the other side of the border, waiting to welcome their souls. Even though Gate Seven was one place, each soul experienced it as if they were the only soul in existence.

      I touched Dylan’s shoulder. “Time to go.”

      Joseph knelt in the grass, staring into the distance. Maybe he’d visited this place at some point in his life. It was breathtaking. I took one last mental picture and transported away.

      The Soul Collections office, where we were stationed, was nestled on the 68th floor of a skyscraper in downtown New York City. Even though the building was in the Living Realm, the office was in the After. Felix relocated us there about fifty years ago, stating that keeping us close to humans would help connect to our targets better. Somehow.

      The wide expanse of the office looked out at the setting sun over the horizon. I never understood why humans were obsessed with the setting and rising of the sun. It was just something that was. Soul Collectors of every human age and size bustled around the office in between Collections.

      “Hi, Dylan!” A young girl waved at him, skipping across the floor.

      He grinned, waving back.

      “Come on,” I said, pushing him toward the massive clear desk in the middle of the main floor. Seven Collections Officers sat behind it. They assigned and closed cases for every Collector.

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