The Secret of Soul

He Knows All

Whitney

The snow fell harder as I drove down the slick, icy roads of New York City. Times Square was illuminated with the night life, and the sun was beginning to creep over the horizon. I glanced at the clock. It read seven eleven A.M. I turned the radio to my favorite old country station, one thing I never let go of when I left Miami.

What used to be “modern” is now considered “old.” I haven’t aged a day thanks to the government’s innovations in technology, which are now combined with magik. God forbid the creatures live normal lives, but the humans can most definitely use the magik for their personal needs. The governments are corrupt, and unstoppable. It seems as though the same President has ruled the United States since 2016, but they were all different people. Twenty five presidents and all had the same characteristics. The Presidents were all cunning, smart, charismatic, and most importantly, selfish. “What if it is the same guy, just in a different body?” I thought to myself. I shook my head to clear the absurd thought away.

I arrived at the airport an hour later. I parked and carefully ran into the airport, making sure to not slip in the ice or snow. A private plane soared overhead, and I knew I had arrived just in time. Humans looked at me, petrified by my light blue uniform. Humans are terrified of any person who serves as a hunter or Peace Keeper. Little do the humans know, anyone may be drafted to work with the supernatural beings. Drafts occur at the age of eighteen, right after a high school graduation. The law was passed in 2016 by President Koto, the first Japanese-American president in United States history. It was a part of the plan to force the juvenile delinquents and failures of high school to become better people. Naturally, if the delinquents or failures failed the Peace Keeper or hunter test, the vampires and shape shifters of Anti-Soul would have a free meal.

I stood by gate 3A to wait for President Emerald. Soon, he walked down the gate, holding his young daughter’s hand. I took in his look. President Emerald had bleach blonde hair, green eyes that could burn through flesh, glasses to frame his wrinkled, pale face, a black suit with the United States flag that now had 53 stars to represent the possession of Mexico, the Philippines, and Puerto Rico, which were added in 2100 after World War III. His young daughter, who looked to be about six, clung to a torn up brown teddy bear, wore a bright pink snow suit, had her hair in pig tails, and reflected the features of her father. Fear was written all over her face, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty for calling him to contain my needs.

“Good morning Head Peace Keepers Whitney,” he spoke with his deep, bass voice. He looked no less than ticked this morning. President Emerald finds snow revolting, despite the magikal innocence of it. “Good morning President Emerald,” I chimed, smiling and I took his bags. “This is my daughter Jade. I couldn’t convince her to stay with her mother. I hope she won’t be an issue,” he told me flatly. “Of course she won’t be! We better go! The snow is very difficult to drive in. I’m not used to it. I grew up in Miami and,” he interrupted me. “I’ve had enough with the blabber. Show me to the SUV so we can drive back to Soul.” “Yes, President Emerald,” I told him. I sighed, wishing he was a bit more conversational.

I opened the door for President Emerald, allowed him to get into the SUV, then went back to tend to his young daughter. “Here sweetheart, do you need help?” Jade simply climbed into the SUV without saying a word. She buckled in her teddy bear, then herself. I smiled and closed the door. I put their bags into the back, and went to the driver’s seat. I decided to try to make conversation once again. “How was your flight?” “Awful,” he stated, and nothing more. “The new Peace Keepers are doing well, but the hunters still have issues,” I tried again. “That’s nice,” he told me. “Anti-Soul was bombed this morning,” I tried again, hoping to spark a conversation with my boss. “They should have notified me of their existence,” he said. “Did you sleep with Aiken last night? You seem guilty.” “I-uh, that’s personal, sir,” I cringed. How did he know? He just got into town. “I know all, Whitney. There are to be no personal matters with your co-workers, understand?” “Uh, yes sir,” my voice shaked with every word. The rest of the ride home was silent except for the voice of Taylor Swift, who was now long dead.