To break with tradition I’m posting the second part of a short story I’m working on. You can read the first part here: Enjoy. I haven’t done much world building but it’s interesting how the details are just flowing. The characters’ names are set but their race’s name is not. SoulEater is completely unimaginative. I still don’t know where I’m going with this but I like it so far. 
The child followed as though he had every right to. Contessa was aware of his presence but didn’t acknowledge him. Three men stepped out of darkness and stalked the child with intentions that made the air taste of rotten milk. Their souls were sucked out minutes later. The child hadn’t broken his stride.

Contessa arrived at her apartment building shortly after and waited for the child to catch up. He had enough sense to quicken his pace. She opened the front door and the child walked passed her without a word or a glance in her direction. Contessa’s pride demanded she grab his collar and throw him to the darkness. The child’s scent slated her growing indignation but she kept her distance as they waited for the elevator.

They entered her apartment just as Cezon Draior stepped out of his bedroom. Contessa ignored his raised eyebrow as she fell on the couch and propped her feet on the coffee table. 

“Smells like you bought home dinner,” he said as he walked to the couch and leaned on it.  

“He’s not human.”

Cezon eyed the child. “Would you look at that, so he isn’t?”

The child stood in the middle of the living room looking more curious than afraid.

“I have no idea what he is.” Cezon inhaled so deeply his nose whistled.  

“Neither do I. He smells like a SoulEater but there’s another potent, dominate, creature apart of him.”

“It is potent isn’t it?” Cezon wrinkled his nose, “How curious.”

“What is your name child?” Cezon demanded.

The child put on a stolid mask and shook his head. Contessa felt Cezon’s pique
rise with hers. Lesser beings not answering out of fear was a tolerable irritation. Defying a Draior and a Torain because of some imagined sense of self-worth got you killed, slowly.

“Asamee,” he said.   

Cezon smirked and glanced at her. This child’s voice could get stronger, more ill-bred creatures to submit to him. Only two classes of SoulEaters had a demeanor that demanded others to listen and obey.

“Curious. Well brazen Asamee, my name is Cezon Draior and she’s Contessa Torain.”

Asamee looked from one to the other with more confidence and poise then he deserved. Contessa was close to breaking him in half. Cezon dragged his fingers through her hair. The contact quieted the enraged voice of her pride.

“You two aren’t related?” 

Cezon dug his fingers into Contessa’s hair to keep her from lunging at the child.

“No, we are not. We are merely good friends,” Cezon said killing the second question people usually asked. 

“You’re hair color changed when you walked in here,” the child said to Contessa. 

She winced at the child’s lack of focus. In their true form, they had dark brown skin, long peach colored hair and gold eyes. They did not wish to draw unneeded attention onto themselves so they created a barrier around the apartment that strips them of enough power to turn their hair and eyes black when they leave and gives the power back upon their return.

“You can see those creatures that kill people on the train but you aren’t like them,” he continued.

“Contessa is of a higher class. She doesn’t need to take the soul from the body to feed on it,” Cezon responded releasing his grip on her head. “We, SoulEaters, don’t need to kill humans but what other use are they?”

“So child,” Contessa started, “either you have no home or your home is unpleasant so, you can stay the night and we’ll figure out what to do with you tomorrow.”

The child nodded then settled on the couch, thankfully, away from Contessa. They owned a television but never watched it. He uprooted the remote and turned on the noise box. Contessa cringed.

Cezon leaned over the couch, wrapped his arms around Contessa and pressed his cheek to hers. SoulEaters communicate secretly through skin contact. Most hold hands but Cezon liked to communicate with her this way.

You did not know that child wasn’t human when you saved him.

Cezon could smell death on the child’s soul and knew how close he was to it and why.

No. He has a brilliant soul. It would’ve been a waste.

Yeah, the dirty ones taste better anyway.

Contessa chuckled. Cezon rubbed his cheek against hers and pulled away.

“Did you eat?” He asked.

“Yes and so did the child.”


Read On!

1 Comment

Unknown · November 7, 2011 at 9:02 pm

Awesome. I can picture the characters and their interaction as if I was watching a movie. Enjoyed it.

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