It was on the fifth day of Nicolás Del Luna's novenario that The Crier of Souls found the rabbit dead. The Moon poured her light upon the rabbit's brown fur where three deep scratches ran across it. The Crier of Souls fell to her knees. She bit down her scream. She bit her tongue until she could taste blood in her mouth. She couldn't lose the rabbit. She couldn't let the world take one more thing from her.
She placed a hand over the rabbit's injuries.
The Moon further glowed in her celestial blue light. And the rabbit jolted back to life. The Crier of Souls placed her arms around it, and she whispered in the dead of night. "Shhh. It's okay, you're back now. Whoever hurt you can't do it anymore. You're with me. You're mine." She caressed the rabbit into a soft lullaby until its ears fell flat and eyes closed.
The Criers of Souls continued to rock the rabbit back and forth. Sweat shined on her forehead as her eyes moved frantically in the dark. No one had seen her. No one had heard her.
The Moon only knew what The Crier of Souls had done. It was their little secret.
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The Wailing Woman
Paranormal[NA PARANORMAL ROMANCE/URBAN FANTASY] (UNDER CONSTRUCTION/EDITING) Twenty-two-year-old Nora Del Luna is a banshee, and all she hears are the voices inside her head whispering impending deaths. Always consumed by guilt and grief, Nora decides she is...
