Harriet was awake at one in the morning for little Mason. He cried and cried. He wasn't hungry, he wasn't too hot, he wasn't too cold and he hadn't made a mess. She rubbed her tired, bloodshot eyes. Mason wriggled in her arms - leaning away unaware of the drop he was risking. Harriet readjusted him to rest more securely on her hip. The crying just got worse.
"Please, please stop crying." She murmured gently. Roxanne groaned, pulling the covers over her head. Harriet kissed his forehead. "I'm doing my best." She pleaded. Her mind harkened back to Mason - her husband. She could picture him, crooning over their baby - his eyes bright with love and limitless patience.
After an hour or so little Mason settled down. Holding her breath Harriet set him down in his crib and stood back, holding very still as if she were handling a bomb. His breathing shifted and Harriet nearly despaired - don't wake - please, please. Mercifully, he stirred only slightly and then buried his face in the pillow. Harriet sighed in relief. Exhausted tears threatened to spill and sniffing loudly she straightened up.
She was just retreating to her bed when she froze - her nerves on end. She'd heard something outside the caravan. She held very still, listening intently. Perhaps just Lewis returning from the resistance? But the sound returned, the clank of chains - the scrape of metal links against the driver's door. She was so tired, was it part dream? Hoping that was so, she edged forward. Out the windshield she could make out the tree line - dark branches were beckoning in the breeze.
The driver's door was wrenched open and someone, breathing heavily, clambered into the driver's seat. Harriet screamed. The stranger twisted in their seat in alarm. Harriet stared into eyes sunk deep into their sockets, his hair was tangled and greasy and a patchy, straggly beard struggled around his mouth. Harriet backed away frantically. The man's eyes widened and he threw himself through the gap between the chairs, lunging for her. Harriet turned - her thoughts for her son - but in doing so she lost her head start.
The man grunted as he seized a fistful of Harriet's pyjama top and dragged her back. Harriet shrieked, trying desperately to pull herself free. He stank of shit and piss.
Roxanne scrambled out of bed- in the dark she couldn't see much but the caravan was shaking from the noisy struggle and Harriet's screams had woken her.
"RYDER!" Roxanne bellowed as loud as she could.
Mason started wailing and Roxanne struggled to shout over the sound of his screaming.
Fear had overwhelmed Harriet's senses and she wasn't being strategic with her struggles. She flailed her arms out - striking them against the cabinets, bruising herself and not hitting her attacker at all. In the tangle of limbs, Harriet lost balance and her head smacked the edge of a table. She became limp as a rag doll.
In that moment Lauren burst into the caravan. She'd been outside, lost in thoughts as she kept watch and her eyes were better adjusted to the dark. She recognised Jesse - broken chains clanking on his wrists - standing over Harriet. Lauren seized the end of his chains and yanked it - dragging the young warlock from the caravan.
Peter and Ryder came upon them as Lauren and Jesse were engaged in a fierce tug of war. Ryder immediately filled Jesse's head with intense pain - bringing the man submissively to his knees. Out of breath, Lauren relaxed her grip on the chain - easing the sting troubling her soft palms. "Harriet! Harriet!"
Lauren's head snapped up at the sound of Roxanne's frantic voice and dread fell heavy in the pit of her stomach.
Ryder darted into the caravan. Mason was still wailing in his crib, the piercing screams cutting right into Ryder's head. But it was the sight of Roxanne kneeling over Harriet that made Ryder disconnect from what was happening. He was numbly aware that he put his hands on Roxanne's shoulder to guide her aside. In some separate part of his mind - he saw himself put his ear close to Harriet's mouth - listening for breathing.
A pool of sticky blood was spreading out like a halo around Harriet's head - matting her curly hair. Her eyes were closed, her lips languidly parted as if she were sleeping. Carefully he raised her head to check the damage. The back of her skull had caved in. Roxanne made a retching, gagging sound beside him and crawled rapidly for fresh air.
The poor girl was sobbing as she struggled from the caravan's interior. Peter helped her to her feet and wrapped his arms supportively around her. Legs trembling Lauren walked passed them to fill the doorway.
"She's dead," Ryder said - his voice lacked emotion but if you thought that was because he didn't care then you'd be mistaken. Inside he was screaming.
"I know." Lauren managed in response, her jaw was clenched and her nostrils flared as if in anger. Her hands started to tremble as she stared down at Harriet's still warm body. "I can smell it." She spat. The smell of death - the smell of a body with a silent heart, the organs going cold - and it smelt heavenly.
Lauren groaned and sagged against the doorframe.
"He killed her!" Roxanne sobbed, referring to Jesse who was slumped unconscious upon the wet grass. Lauren's breathing was laboured. She clutched at her head. She was suddenly so - no not hungry or thirsty but it was closest to those urges. It was desire mixed with need.
Ryder stroked Harriet's face. Her cheek was smooth - the worried creases no longer prominent. His shoulders crumpled forward as guilt and grief crashed over him in a tidal wave. He could have prevented this. He'd sworn to take care of her. Harriet was a good person. So wise and full of compassion and understanding. Ryder's throat constricted, his breathing turning into strained gasps.
She'd never judged him for the choices he's made and Ryder had always appreciated that. In dark times he'd relied on it. And she'd loved Mason unconditionally - his best friend and the best man he'd ever known. She'd accepted warlocks and their way of life even though it was harsh and dangerous.
Lauren clawed at the doorframe, her shoulder tensing as she struggled for control. Harriet's soul - she could smell Harriet soul. I want it! I want it! I want it! She was getting angrier - her emotions slipping the more she fought down the impulse. Fear filled her mouth with a foul taste - what was happening to her? - but it just made her desire that much harder to resist. A soul would taste...divine!
Growling, she sprung suddenly - knocking Ryder out of the way and crashing upon Harriet. She straddled the poor woman's waist as she gazed hungrily down at her. Ryder was calling her name, tugging at her shoulder but for Lauren, it was all background noise - the irritation of fly. Her world had shrunken down and it was just her and Harriet.
Time had moved differently when Lauren had been a reaper. To give her the time to reach every soul she'd been able to do travel back and forth with less than a second passing in the mortal realm. She remembered the first body she'd arrived too late for...
It had been night time - a harsh time. Thick snows had smothered the prison camp. The demons complained and stomped their hooves - snorting steam from their muzzles. The human inmates were dying in droves. Their toes and fingers blackened from the cold. People lay down to sleep and never woke up again. The first victim had been an elderly man. He'd had a wasting face, swollen stomach and had smelt of death long before it had claimed him.
Lauren had stood over him waiting...and waiting. But the soul had never shown. Eventually, she'd put a bony hand against his unmoving chest. She hadn't really known what to do but she'd tried to feel for the soul - wanting to coax it out somehow. Another had died shortly after - this one also elderly. A woman - with no English, unable to talk with anyone else at the camp she'd died alone with tears upon her wrinkled face. Again no soul had shown. Lauren had retreated to the Empty Edge.
"Murias!" She'd called. Her hood had fallen back as she'd stormed across the throne room - revealing her decaying visage. When she'd explained what had happened Murias had only sighed - completely unsurprised.
"The Beasts of Silence," the warden had solemnly explained, "they feed on souls."
"Can't we get them back - those people deserve an afterlife."
Murias had shaken his head.
"It's too late. In days gone by the Beasts of Silence were few - they were preyed upon by warriors. But now," Murias had sighed heavily, "they hunt unchecked."
Lauren had been unable to reap a single soul from Deadwater prison camp. All had fallen prey to a beast.
Lauren leant down, her quivering mouth closing upon Harriet's breathless lips. Instinct was kicking in - it would be so easy. The soul was bubbling up to the surface, it would rise up right into her mouth. No violence, no effort and she'd able to consume her hearts darkest desire - a soul, a pure and beautiful soul. Her head was spinning, her mind turning hazy with longing.
"S-stop me," she stammered, her lips brushing against Harriet's. "Ryder - hurt me." She could taste the soul on her tongue - heaven and a spark. A charge that made her insides warm. "Hurt...me..."
Pain exploded in her skull and Lauren gasped in relief. Ryder had obeyed her command. Her body jerked up, her spine arching back in reaction to the blistering pain bursting inside her skull. The soul made its swift escape. Relief and regret battled for dominance before Lauren gave up- sagging limply to the ground.
Ryder moved in time to cradle Lauren's limp head in his lap. With shaking fingers he stroked her feverish forehead.