Reapers - Thirteen Brothers

XXXII - Doors

Byron Flynn sniffed curiously on the Swarth's decapitated body parts before letting out an ominous rumble. Vincent kept himself busy by reciting in a strange language to open Spirit Doors to help souls cross over. I knew he was avoiding the Swarth topic so I let it drop. After a minute or so, a rectangular shadow the size of a mall entrance appeared a couple of feet away from where Vincent stood, his voice resonating in my head although he was barely even whispering.

"Doors of light, I summon thee. Illuminate the path for lost Souls and guide them to eternal serenity. It has been spoken in the name of the Reaper. I, The Thirteenth Son command. Open!" Vincent's voice was ominous, imposing, yet, easy to the ear.

It was strange that I even understood his words when I was sure he wasn't speaking in English. Through the link, I could feel a little of his life-force seeping out into the air and into the Door. I never thought opening a Door could consume such amount of energy.

The rectangular shadow pulsed with a dim blue glow. The Strays whipped their heads toward Vincent's direction. Their hollow eyes flashed like crazy at the Spirit Door. After a few moments of foreboding silence, the souls wildly shoved and trampled each other to get to the Door. Like hungry dogs barking in nonexistent voices, they could only open their mouths wide to the point of being unhinged. The sight was both pitiful and terrifying.

As some of the Strays veered to our direction, Byron Flynn bared his set of razor sharp fangs and snarled to keep them at bay. The strays began falling in line like a herd of rabid sheep. Still, with the Door and the Gate open, it wasn't enough.

I steered clear of the Door and the Strays. Being lured to Nirvana was the last thing in my priority list.

"I'll make another Door," Vincent sighed with a grim expression, a bead of sweat trickling from his temple despite the cold. I knew opening a Door was taxing on him, yet he was doing an excellent job of acting like it was nothing. Showoff.

As he was about to step away, I saw the small flecks of light again, several yards from us, pulsing in synchrony with the Door. Faint dim crimson lights no bigger than my thumb. Similar to the ones I kept seeing every now and then. I thought I was imagining it. But now...

It reminded me strongly of the sky in my Nirvana. The color of blood dissolving in water.

Impulsively, I started to the patches of light, reaching out to them with a trembling hand. I nudged past Strays, flinching as some of them howled mutely at me. Like mindless empty corpses floating on air. A couple of them charged and swung their arms to me, only to pass through my body like mist. Then a look registered on their ashen faces-the realization that they were dead. Misery. Hopelessness. Confusion. It was a horror that made my stomach turn.

"Aramis!" Vincent's voice was muffled by the silent vacuum that seemed to envelop me and the souls. "Come back here!"

I glanced back at him, barely even able to see his face through the crowd of spirits. His bright silver eyes shone uncannily like a wolf's, but it calmed my heart to know that he was there.

"The lights!" I shouted back to him as I was within reaching distance of the lights. "I've seen these before. If I could only-"

Before I could lift my hand to touch it, several Strays swooped in front of me and huddled around the lights as if protecting them from me. I jumped back, startled. Just then, Vincent caught my hand, his eyes smoldering.

"What are you doing?" he muttered silently so as not to agitate the Strays.

"Look," I murmured, pointing at the three small patches of unmoving glinting red, suspended in the air. "Can't you see it?"