A Shade of Vampire 23: A Flight of Souls (6 page)

I
’d heard the spirit
, and yet I hadn’t heard him. His answer passed through my ears, but I was unable to make even the slightest bit of sense of it.

Hell?

What?

I didn’t get a chance to ask him for clarification. His forearm jerked away from me with wild speed, and the next thing I knew, he’d sped through the entrance and slammed it behind him.

No
.

You’re not leaving me in this place.

I zoomed after him, but I never got the chance to discover whether or not my form could pass through this door. Inches from it, I felt an abrupt and alarming sensation in my upper arms. It felt like somebody had grabbed hold of me again, and yet there was nobody in sight. And yet, as I struggled again to move forward and reach the door, the feeling of powerful hands holding me in place remained.

As I whirled to look around again, this time I saw it. The outline of a creature standing right behind me. A towering, wraithlike creature. A creature that certainly belonged in hell. My gaze shot to my arms. Long, gnarled fingers with pointed black nails were wrapped around me, rooting me to the spot. They seemed to be turning more solid and less translucent with each passing second, until my head panned upward and I beheld the creature in its full, visible form: a nightmarish being with a skeletal body covered with skin so thin and translucent, it revealed the cold blue veins beneath. He had jagged, shark-like teeth and tufts of long black hair hung from the base of his otherwise bald skull.

A physical form. And yet he was able to touch me.

I was still staring as he began tugging me away from the door, down, down into the tunnel.

For the first time, I found myself seriously considering that this was actually hell.
But what have I done to deserve to be here?
As the creature hauled me after him through the gloom, my mind felt like it had been blasted to pieces. I found myself thinking back on my life, on all that I’d done. I’d always thought that I’d led a decent life. Granted, I had murdered my fair share of people, but that hadn’t been by my will. I’d been under the influence of the Elder.
But perhaps fate—if that glowing being really is an agent of fate—doesn’t consider the reasons for one’s actions. If a person touches fire, it burns regardless of how innocent one is.
Perhaps Fate didn’t consider excuses and went only on actions. By that evaluation, I realized that I had lived a bad life. A very bad life.

The end of the tunnel came into view, and as we reached it, we emerged in another cavern. Only this was different to the ones enclosing the lakes outside the door. Running down the center of it was an elevated path, on either side of which were pools. Large, circular basins of water that emitted an odd, pale blue light. This light was the only thing illuminating the chamber. I strained to get a closer look at them to glimpse the reason for their illumination, but I wasn’t close enough.

We reached the other side of the chamber, where there was a narrow entrance to yet another passageway. This led into a second room, almost identical to the last, with glowing ponds on either side. We passed through several more of these rooms, and by this time I was no longer even bothering to struggle beneath the creature’s grip. After what felt like the seventh chamber—for I began to lose count—I began paying less attention to the phosphorescent ponds, and more to the rest of my surroundings. More gruesome garlands draped down from the ceiling, only these were not constructed only of shrunken heads. Whoever was responsible for the morbid decorations had thrown in a myriad of bones, tufts of hair, and what looked like dried flaps of skin.

Whoever was responsible for the interior design of this place clearly had a one-track mind.

My escort came to an abrupt stop as we reached the end of perhaps the ninth chamber. He stopped in front of the last pond in the room. His hold around me tightening, he moved closer toward the water until we reached the edge of it. Without warning, he shot up into the air, dragging me with him. I barely even had a chance to look at the water before the creature gripped my head and thrust me beneath the surface. As I gazed around underwater, I realized what was causing the faint, bluish glow.

The pond—all of these ponds… they were swarming with ghosts. So many ghosts surrounded me in this single reservoir, I couldn’t even begin to count them. Most were motionless at the bottom—some sitting upright, others lying down in whatever little space there was—while others swirled around in clusters aimlessly in the water.

I immediately surged upward again, but the heinous being was still hovering over the surface. His large, clawed hands clamped around my head and he forced me back down into the pool.

I continued my attempts to escape, but as he continued to push me back down—each time with more severity and impatience—I saw the futility in my attempt. He needed to leave before I could try again.

My gaze tilted back to the ghosts beneath me and surrounding me. I needed to talk to somebody. I needed answers before I completely lost my mind.

I scanned all the unfamiliar faces, wondering who to approach first, and then… I spotted two faces that were not so unfamiliar at all.
Chantel and Nolan
. The two of them were cowering in a corner, their faces drained and gaunt. Being at the base of the cramped pool, they didn’t seem to have noticed me yet.

My heart leaping just a fraction, I surged down toward them. Nolan’s eyes bulged as he recognized me.

“Joseph!” he gasped.

“What’s going on?” I breathed. It was an odd feeling being underwater, and not having to worry about opening my eyes or even breathing. I could talk the same as I could when I was above the surface.

“We’re doomed!” Chantel sobbed.

“What?”

“The light came for us on the mountain,” Nolan began, his face lined with devastation. “But it was not the light we expected. It did not take us to the other side. It brought us to this hell instead.”

“Of course, this is not actually Hell,” a rasping voice spoke behind us. I whirled around to see the ghost of an elderly woman, crouched in a corner, just a few feet away from us. Her form was humanoid, though she did not look quite like a human, nor a vampire. I wondered what she was.

Momentarily forgetting about Chantel and Nolan, I asked her, “Then what is this place?”

She blew out a sigh. “The Underworld. Also known as the realm of the ghouls.”

The realm of the ghouls.

“But… how?” I stammered. “Why? Who were those glowing beings?”

“It’s all a hoax,” the old woman murmured. “Whatever those fae told you, it’s a pack of lies.”

My jaw couldn’t drop any lower. “Fae?”

“Yes, fae,” she replied. “You wouldn’t have seen one before, not if you’ve never traveled beyond the walls of a portal.”

“What are fae?”

“Elemental spirits who inhabit the ether in between dimensions. They captured all the ghosts in this pool.”

I was still wrapping my mind around ghouls—my mother and father had told me about an experience they had with one on the island that had caused utter havoc, even killed two of The Shade’s residents, though I’d never seen one in the flesh before, so to speak. And now…
fae?
There was a lot more I could’ve asked her about the “fae”, but at the forefront of my mind was the question:

“Why? Why would they bring us here?”

The elderly ghost shifted from her position and moved closer to me. “Almost five decades ago now, the fae made a pact with the ghouls. At the time, the realm of the fae was in chaos as they fought to overturn their monarchy. A group of insurgents struck a deal with the ghouls to further their cause. The ghouls would help them fight a war in their realm to overturn the current rulers, and in exchange, the fae would agree to serve them by supplying a constant flow of ghosts for the next fifty years.… In fact, I believe the time is almost up.” She eyed me bitterly. “You’re unlucky to be caught within the catchment date.”

I gaped at her. “Why do ghouls want ghosts anyway? They can’t eat them. What use are they to them?”

The woman’s eyes darkened. “Ghouls live for death, reveling in all things morbid and macabre… in case you hadn’t noticed their rather singular taste in decoration. They are known by some as grave robbers, by others as collectors; they are hoarders of all things relating to death. And ghosts… we are like trophies to them.” She paused, eyeing the ghost-infested water surrounding us. “They keep us here, like ornamental fish.”

It took a moment to find my voice again.

“How long have you been here?” I dared ask.

“Not long compared to some others in this hell hole, but… long enough to have gleaned some of the evils of this place. No ghost in this particular pool has been here for more than a few months. I was captured about three months ago, and when I arrived along with a group of other ghosts, this pool was completely empty.”

“You were also captured by the fae?” I asked.

She looked almost embarrassed to admit it. “I too had fallen for the myth of the light in the portal that would lead one to the other side—a lie spread by the fae among the ghost community to ensure they have a constant, easy supply of them.”

Wow. The extent of the deception was staggering. I wondered how they had initially planted the lie. I guessed that would have been the hardest part, because once the rumor started spreading, desperate ghosts would latch onto the hopeful fable… just like Chantel and Nolan. They were willing to suspend disbelief for any far-fetched story, simply because they’d been at the end of their tether and saw no other way out of their miserable half-existence.

“And what about the other pools? There are loads in this place.”

“I do not know if all of them were caught by fae,” the elderly woman replied. “Some could have been collected by the ghouls themselves—I suspect many of them were. At least those on this upper level.”

“Upper level?”

“The newest recruits are kept here on this level, the highest level,” the woman explained. “At least, while there’s still life in them. Gradually, as spirits lose their shine, they get shifted down, down, down… until eventually, when their souls have all but died, they get cast into the furthest depths of The Underworld. The Necropolis, some call it.”

“
A
necropolis for ghosts
?”

She grimaced. “Strange, isn’t it, how even ghosts can have graves.” She paused as Chantel’s sobbing intensified.

I furrowed my brows. “How do you even know all this?”

“I’ve done my fair share of wandering,” she replied wearily. “At least in the beginning, when I first arrived and was far more reckless than now. I visited the caverns deep down. It’s…” Her voice faltered, horror filling her eyes. “Let’s just say it’s so bad, you can practically tell how many years they’ve been here just from glancing at them. It’s rare to find a ghost cognizant enough to even talk to down there.”

Years
.

“There’s got to be a way to escape,” I hissed. “We’re ghosts, dammit!”

It was Nolan who replied this time. “I tried, Joseph,” he murmured behind me. “Chantel and I tried and… it wasn’t worth it. Trust me.”

I whirled on him, stunned. He’d barely been here a day.
How the heck can he have given up so quickly?
I felt a sense of frustration—even anger—toward him for being so spineless.

“We tried to flee for the exit,” Chantel managed. “But they caught us. They caught us and they…” Her voice choked up again.

“What did they do?” I demanded, lurching closer to the couple.

Nolan shook his head, while Chantel buried her head in her wispy hands. “Don’t make us talk about it,” he rasped. “Please, Joseph, just take our word for it.”

I twisted to face the elderly woman, raising a brow. “What do the ghouls do to those who attempt escape?”

As helpful as the woman had been until now in answering my questions, chillingly, she too became tight-lipped.

I cast my gaze around the rest of the hapless ghosts in this pond. All was quiet by now as they listened in to our conversation. “What do they do?” I shouted. Anger overtook me as none offered up an answer.

How can they all be such wimps?

It wasn’t right for me to feel anger toward these poor, unfortunate souls. They’d done nothing to harm me. But I realized that it wasn’t really anger propelling my actions. Beneath my heated temperament was ice-cold fear.

I cast my eyes back to the surface of the water, where the ghoul had been hovering to make sure that I remained within the water. I could no longer see his shadow looming. I could only assume that he’d moved elsewhere.

I attempted to adopt a calmer tone before addressing the old woman again. “None of us are bound by chains. We have free movement. We can pass through walls. We can—”

“And so can ghouls,” the woman finished for me. “And for your information, the only reason that they don’t chain us is because, again like fish, they like to see us roaming about. That is also why they like to have a constant influx of ghosts, to decorate their chambers—those with fresh life in them. And those ghosts who drain out get shifted down lower, out of sight. Because what attraction is there to a bloated, unmoving fish? I also have a suspicion that they enjoy the chase when a ghost disobeys their will… I’m sure they also enjoy the discipline that follows.”

“What do you mean by discipline?”

“Just trust me when I say you don’t want to find out.” The woman pursed her lips.

I couldn’t accept what she was saying. I was a ghost. A spirit, barely even existing. I’d given up the confinements of a physical body and one of the few advantages I had left in this half life was that I was ethereal… and yet not so ethereal that ghouls and fae couldn’t touch me…

“How are ghouls able to touch us?” I asked. “And for that matter, how are fae able to touch us?”

“I don’t know for sure,” she replied. “All I know is that both are spirits of a different kind. Although they can assume physical forms—as solid as any human—their natural state is subtle.”