by Sadee Bee
EDITOR’S NOTE: This is the first installment of a serial story that will run the first Friday of the month in October, November, & December. Please check back for future installments on November 4 & December 2.
“He’s going to bury me alive!”
She struggled against her bonds as she choked on dirt. Each scrape of the shovel against the ground above her sealed her fate. During her days of torment, all she wanted was to die. But now, she was different. She would have given anything to survive.
As dirt covered her face, she prayed to anyone or anything that would listen. She was never a believer in such things but facing death could change anyone.
“I hear your plea, my dear,” A whispering voice filled her head. ”I have been searching for someone like you.”
“Please, I’ll do anything you want. I don’t want to die here.” She begged, not knowing if the voice was real or a hallucination.
The voice cackled, “I am very much real, I promise you. You long to survive and I will keep you alive as long as you fulfill your debt. A soul for a soul is all I ask.”
“Whose soul?” She asked, hoping it did not mean for her to sacrifice someone she loved.
“Any soul will do. Why not start with his? I’ll give you the strength you need to deliver his soul to me.” It promised.
She knew that there had to be a catch but none of that mattered now. A chance had been handed to her and she was not going to lose it.
“A soul for a soul.”
Night had fallen faster than she expected. Deep in the forest, darkness was overwhelming, surrounded by thick trees. As the temperature dropped, her skin began to prickle with goosebumps beneath the layer of blood that coated her. Her jacket had been long lost in the struggle and would be difficult to find now.
Namina knew she wouldn’t freeze to death; she had been here before. She only needed to head home before the blood started to turn to paste on her body. It was much easier to shower while it was still fresh.
She took a last glance at the man lying at her feet. He put up more of a fight than others but sadly, it wasn’t enough. Namina always won in the end; she had to. His body would be gone by morning; without fail, they always were.
She began the walk back to her cabin, a place she had called home for many years. Namina did not live in extravagance, she preferred as much solitude and silence as she could find.
The cabin served her well, even if it was not in the best condition. The roof could use replacing, as there was always a leak in the kitchen when it rained. After years of heavy storms and snow, its wood siding had slowly started to rot in small areas. Namina did not mind either of these things. An unassuming, dilapidated home next to the forest did not invite unwanted visitors.
In the days of true crime documentaries, people tended to stay away from places that creeped them out. Namina found it funny as, most of the time, the mysterious place wasn’t where most met their end.
Before opening the door, she wiped her hand on a cleanish spot on her jeans. The less mess she had to clean, the better.
“I’m home,” she announced as she removed her shoes.
“Hey, love! Better not get blood on anything. I just finished cleaning.” Namina’s girlfriend, Simone, smiled at her from their living room.
Namina laughed, “Still looks pretty dusty in here to me.”
“I haven’t gotten to the dust yet, so I’d appreciate not having blood mixed in. How did it go?” Simone assessed her appearance.
“Oh, the usual. He begged, then cried, then screamed, and I killed him. Lost my jacket out there somewhere, have to go back out in the morning to find it. I’m chilly, and this blood is getting sticky, so I’m gonna shower.” Namina lightly kissed Simone’s lips and hurried off to the bathroom.
She shut the door, leaned against it, and took a deep, steadying breath. The high of her deeds was wearing off, and the deliverance of a soul took energy. Namina had stopped counting how many souls she had delivered, and there was no point in keeping track anymore. Her Ker, an ancient spirit that feeds on violence and blood, was never full, and her servitude would never end.
She peeled off her sticky, wet shirt and tossed it in the trash. The blood was never truly going to come out. Her jeans weren’t as bad, so she sat them to the side and turned on the shower. Before stepping in, Namina assessed herself in the mirror. Her victim landed a solid blow to her right eye, and a bruise was already visible. Several minor scratches peppered her arms from rolling around in the brush, and the large cut on her palm for the blood rite still trickled.
If the Ker accepted her sacrifice, she’d be healed by morning.
As the hot water rinsed the blood from her skin, the shower filled with the smell of copper. Namina thought back to the man she had left in the woods.
He was unremarkable, as most men were, but he suited her needs for the night. She had been watching him for a while and finally snagged him at a bar in the city.
James worked in cyber security; highly successful, quiet, polite, and unassuming. One would never assume the secrets James kept, the people he had hurt, but Namina knew; she always knew.
She knew every man’s desires, their darkest thoughts, every bad thing they’ve done, and every awful thing they’re planning to do. Her Ker only fed on the not-so-innocent, though what it considered guilty and what Namina considered guilty were not always the same.
James was a particular kind of monster, the very kind Namina sought to eradicate. Not that anyone would find evidence on paper; oh no, James was much too wealthy for legal precedence. He had a nasty habit of abusing and sexually assaulting women. His disgusting desires began in high school, and due to privilege, he was not culled early enough. Namina could feel the pain, anguish, and fear of every woman he victimized. When she met his eyes, she saw every one of their faces, and there were far too many.
Her duty was to reap, so she reaped the souls of men who were not worthy of living. Namina could not undo the misery he caused, but she could ensure he would never hurt anyone again.
While lost in thought, the water had grown cold, and the smell of copper no longer filled the air. Her face throbbed, and her hand ached; she found the pain an anchor. The agony of others was easy to get lost in.
She wrapped her hand as tightly as possible with gauze and medical tape from the medicine cabinet. The bleeding had slowed, a good sign.
“How’s it going in here?” Simone peeked her head around the doorframe.
Namina grabbed Simone’s hand, pulling her into a deep embrace. She smelled of lavender and vanilla, a scent that could cleanse even Namina’s worst thoughts. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” Simone sighed.
“Good. You are all I have left, anchoring me to this life. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up. The Ker grows hungrier and hungrier every year; it’s like I can’t feed it fast enough. I know what it wants, but I can’t break my oath.” Namina sat on the edge of the bathtub.
Simone kneeled in front of her, holding back a frown. “Honey, that is an oath you made to only yourself. Your Ker feeds, that’s all it does.”
“An oath is an oath. I don’t care who I made it to.” Namina pushed Simone’s hands off her thighs. “I gave my soul to be saved from men like the ones I reap now. With every predator I erase from existence, three more pop up in his place. It should be more than enough for the Ker, yet it’s not. But I’ll die before I stop trying to save women.”
Namina spent every day trying to forget — the night she begged to be saved, the night the wrong voice answered. Now, she was forever linked to her trauma, to the trauma of other women like her. Except, there was no one to save them when they needed it most. Vengeance was all Namina could give them, even if they didn’t know about it.
“Well, we can’t all be so altruistic. Don’t get me wrong. I admire what you’re doing. I only wonder when enough will finally come for you.” Simone walked out of the bathroom without a look back.
Namina winced as she rose to her feet, and sent up another errant prayer for the wrong voice to answer — take him already.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Sadee Bee is ever-evolving as living with mental illness is never a straight line and hopes to be a voice and advocate for those like her. She uses art as an outlet as well, creating whatever comes to mind, and is heavily drawn to speculative and out-of-this-world elements. She is inspired by strange dreams, magic, and creepy vibes.
