Ch. 3 The Calling Gates of Heaven
There are times when I think I am dreaming.
And that is the time that I realize I do not dream, because I am no one. I am the dark figure that you glimpse flitting through your hallway, to fetch the dead soul of your now dead cat, or elder family member.
I am a Shadow. Not a demon. I said mentally. I paused for a moment, and then changed the sentences. I am Will. A Shadow. I have been experiencing human feelings. Does that mean I am turning into one?
I stood in the shadows once again, my eyes unblinking as the sun began to rise.
I glanced down at my arm.
At the runes.
The dry blood.
Disgusted, I shoved my suit sleeve back down and covered my new markings.
I felt a sudden urge in my feet that carried me forward and I sighed.
Someone had just died.
I let my feet push me onwards until I reached a small, quaint home that overlooked the river. Unseen, I slipped inside and the urge became stronger as I climbed up the steps. The smell of death filled my nostrils, though I knew that no human could detect the scent of the newly dead.
I approached the very still form of Emma Rosaila, lying next to her husband to which she had been married to for sixty years. Quite a beautiful marriage, I noted, as her faint memories drifted through my mind when I scooped her fragile soul into my arms.
I walked outside and waited as I usually did for the shadows to shift. When they finally did, I began to drift upwards, and suddenly I felt a strong violent pain on my arm where the demon had left its mark.
Wincing, I nearly let go of Emma Rosaila’s soul, yet I kept a firm grip on her.
The pain increased.
I felt desperate to transport to Judgment, hoping that I wouldn’t drop the woman. I wasn’t sure what the consequences would be if I did.
The thought pushed me forward, and eventually Emma and I slipped through and into Judgment.
I walked to the Gates of Heaven.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I felt the soft silk of the soul in my arms.
The pain in my arm decreased as I neared the gates, and I halted in front of St. Peter.
He glanced at my soul and forced Emma to stand on her feet, staring at her through his twinkling eyes.
I felt that same tingling that I always did as St. Peter judged whether or not Mrs. Rosaila would go to heaven. Suddenly he broke away from her gaze and smiled, nodding at me.
I let Emma stand, and watched her walk through the opening gates of heaven.
Joy surged through me, and for a moment I forgot all of my worries. I felt happiness.
And then as I backed away from the gates, the joy disappeared and there was only loneliness.
I felt someone tap my shoulder. I turned. And nearly fell to the ground.
YOU ARE READING
Shadow Lines
FantasíaOne Simple Message: We are the people who are never seen, never heard, or never known. We are the people who watch and wait. Humans live in a world with people called Shadows. They are the people who carry souls into Judgment, to see if they wil...