The Veiled Soul (Sample)

Chapter One

There exists an ancient race that predates humanity. They hide in the shadows, weighing the actions and intentions of the soul and passing judgment on the damned. They are the hidden backbone of humanity, balancing life and death, creation and destruction, good and evil. I do not know their history, their story, or their motivation. I am not meant to. I am merely a tool, a small speck of dust no longer allowed to understand the world.

I am a reaper.

I live in a parallel realm controlled by judges, serving my punishment for sins against humanity. I pass between the two worlds, ferrying souls to their final resting place. I am nothing more than a shell, deprived of my soul and my memories. I watch, and I am watched. Only the split of time between life and death allows me to touch anything real.

But walls collapse. Boundaries tear. And the oddest chain of events can leave a bloodied trail to the unexpected.

1943

Just outside the Auschwitz gates

The drops of blood in the snow hypnotized her as they spread outwards, contaminating the purity of frozen innocence. White to red. One single drop forever changed the ground beneath. The blood expanded as it marked her path of guilt, leading from her blade to the man with the twisted cross upon his uniform. She had witnessed the cruelty of his actions and was responsible for the lifeless eyes that now stared upwards.

She glanced at the path she had made, her gaze landing on the corpse. The thoughts in her head were dancing to the accelerated beat of her heart, but only one thought stood out.

He is coming.

Her grip on the handle of her dagger tightened as she scrambled for a memory. He was coming. He would take her back, but who was he? And where could she hide?

He is coming!

A wave of emotion fell over her. She shoved the dagger in her pocket and ran, struggling through the deep snow, desperate to put as much distance between herself and the proof of her sin.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

The stolen boots on her feet were too large, and she stumbled as she entered a deeply wooded area. She pulled herself up, running, gasping. The trees clawed at her face, but a sense of urgency and an explicit memory of the prison that awaited her fueled her.

The temperature dropped in the most unnatural way, seeping into her bones. She struggled against it, but it wrapped around her, trapping her, paralyzing her. She managed to crawl up to a tree and slip her hands into her pockets before she froze to the point of immobility.

As she stared ahead, she was struck by the irony of the vision before her. Here she was, in a world of color, but only able to stare at the white of the snow and the gray of the trees. There was no sun to warm her skin, only the clothes on her back and the blood of another.

It was hardly a change for her.

Starting as a small dot and spreading outwards into a portal, a mask of gray shaded the snow and trees. It was just a small area, enough for two men to emerge from the gray world, themselves still visions of black and white.

Her eyes locked with the man on the left. He was her enemy, but she didn't know why. He was tall, well over six-feet, tucked away in gloves and a trench coat. As the colors melted into him, she saw his piercing blue eyes. She struggled to sear the color into her brain.