Mortal Wounds

Chapter Three

Invidian's POV

"Stop harassing the mortals."

"We're in a hospital. They'll get help if they have a heart attack."

"Bring us home. Please, we beg of you," a soul pleads, at the heels of a doctor.

My brother, Ascanius pulls me out of the way of one of the many souls haunting the walls of Gomorrah's hospital.

We linger within the Veil, a dimension where spirits cross over to the other side. Everything here is in black and white, like a 50s television set. Even with the contrast up, the most colour I would see is in his eyes, irises a drop of blood swimming in an ocean of ink. They would stand out against the jet black of his sclera, long hair and bone-white of his skin. I attribute his paleness to his Norse background his mother a Valkyrie who eloped with a mortal during the 1700s.

The Valkyrie had regretted her choice to spawn a child and was stripped of her immortality, so she left Ascanius with his father. Also being one of Lilith's lover, Lilith adopted Ascanius as her son after old age claimed her.

"Why did this mortal sell their soul to Lilith?" I ask.

"This client is a grandfather who sold his soul for money."

"So, greed is the sin here?"

Many demons would not batter an eyelash over tearing apart a mortal's life in an instant. Some demons bind humans through contracts, maintaining their youth by feeding on their soul, like a spider slowly feeding on flies caught in its web. These deals normally end after a few years when the client's soul is collected.

"He was close to losing his house and had grandchildren to support. It seems like property repossession is common here," he explains, walking towards the emergency ward.

"What does that mean?"

He cracks a small smile before patting my head. I slap it away with a scowl, making his smile widen.

"I'll explain later. Just know he knew who he wanted to protect, so he made a choice. There's no fault in that, is there?"

"I dunno."

"The man is scheduled to die in a few minutes. No making any souls have a mental breakdown today."

"No promises."

He heads off, muttering something about how he raised a little monster. A few souls pass by and I wonder what it means to care about someone enough you would trade your soul to protect them. I cannot imagine getting so desperate.

I slowly come to the realisation this is a dream. A dream about a memory from when I was fifteen. I glance around, not sure what to do, or how this memory continues. I walk around guessing why certain souls have not moved on.

I never understood why so many souls wandering in the Veil. Ascanius explained to me Reapers oversaw taking them to the other side. Either they were neglecting their duty, or the souls refused to leave. When I brought up the idea of asking a Reaper, Ascanius warned me to avoid them.

"Stop her!" a nurse cries out and I turn, bursting into laughter when I see a patient on a wheelchair, racing away from her.

She speeds up and spreads out her arms like she's flying. With a laugh, I chase her after she rolls right through me. She swerves into a room with plushie dolls, flowers and get-well cards. A leg on top of the other, looking all innocent, she regally sits in the chair when the nurse catches her. The nurse pants in exhaustion then yells at her for stealing the wheelchair and racing around the hospital. Her whiskey brown eyes are lit with fun. Immediately, I want to be her friend, but I pause. The ouroboric ring is on her finger, the same one I wore in Purgatory.