Shadow and Light

I watched the light fade in the boy’s eyes as death drew near. It didn’t give me pleasure – it never had – but it still fascinated me, the way the soul can be perceived through the eyes. If you stare into someone’s eyes, I mean really stare, sometimes you can start to feel it. A slow cascade of warmth, a pull, a desire to lean in closer, to touch. Gradually the lights in the eyes become more than just reflections of their surroundings; they become windows to the soul. I watched as the lights flickered in the boy’s eyes, then winked out one after another.

And then, I felt it.

It seeped in through my eyes at first as I held his gaze. Then through my fingers as they continued to squeeze his throat. I felt the last few pulses of life fluttering as he twitched slightly in my hold. The feeling moved down through my body, causing my head to loll back as I released a low moan of pleasure. It felt like someone pouring hot treacle through my body –sweet yet salty, burning, cloying, energising. I drew in a deep breath and then released it slowly.

I let the body fall with a thump to the floor of the alley as I turned to appreciate the colours of the street beyond. They seemed deeper somehow. Not brighter, just richer. As if someone had removed the protective plastic film covering the world. Streetlights buzzed, moisture condensed on my skin, the air around me seemed to pulse with life. It wouldn’t last long. It never did with the younger ones. Their souls weren’t rich enough.

I glanced down at the body. It lay crumpled on the floor, eyes glassy, white trainers scuffed with grime from our brief struggle, jeans soaking up the filthy water. I glanced at the wraps scattered on the floor and, after a moment’s contemplation, picked them up and threw them into a puddle. I watched as the water soaked into the folded paper packets.

How many lives had I saved by removing this soul from the world? Probably none – but it was a start. The first step in a greater work. Already I could feel the pull towards the next. Maybe the next one would provide greater sustenance.

I melted into the shadows.

It was late into the night of the second day before I found the last. It didn’t usually take me this long, but the boy had been low down in the organisation and so it had taken more time than I would like to work my way through the chain. I had been clinical in work. Pausing for just enough time to glean souls before moving silently on to the next. Conserving my energy.

I closed my eyes, listening intently and reaching out with my perception. The warehouse was a silent graveyard. No souls but the one before me. No one to disturb my final work.

I opened the door and slid through, the shadows somehow muffling the sound as well as concealing me. The man was sitting at the desk, his attention on his phone, brow furrowed. The harsh white light bounced off his bald pate and made his gold rings glisten. I advanced and the shadows followed me, clinging like smoke. I came to halt as my boots stepped into the circle of light on the floor.

The man looked up and then started in surprise.

“What the…” He staggered to his feet, his chair rolling backwards and hitting the back wall. “Where the fuck did you come from?!” He glanced around me at the open door.

I smiled and raised my hands, palms facing out. “I’ve been looking for you for a few days now. Do you know how many people I had to make my way through to get to an audience with you?” I drew my coat closed around me and settled gracefully into one of the chairs facing his desk.

The man gaped at me for a moment and then reached into his drawer and drew out a gun. “Kenton!“ he called out, the gun pointed at me, his eyes flicking again to the door.

“Kenton won’t be coming I’m afraid.”

“Barnes!”

I shook my head slowly. “Nor him.”

The man gritted his teeth and edged around the desk, keeping the gun fixed on me. The barrel shook slightly. “Now look here. I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re about mate, but coming here uninvited was not a good idea.”

I idly brushed at a bit of dirt on my coat, ignoring him as he inched around me towards the door. “I wouldn’t bother,” I raised my eyes to his. “They’re all dead.”

The man stopped moving, his brow furrowing, then he let out a short huff of laughter. “You’ve got some balls. Well let me tell you son...”

I sighed and stood suddenly causing him to break off and stagger back, the gun wobbling in his grip. I moved quickly – more quickly than a mortal can perceive - and grabbed his wrist. Bones crunched and he let out a high-pitched squeal. His fingers sprang open and the gun clattered to the floor. I kicked it away. I released his wrist and he staggered away, sobbing in pain and cradling it against his chest. His eyes darted around the room searching desperately for his gun.

I focused and the light above flickered and went out in a burst of sparks. I felt the shadows stretching out towards me again. The darkness within him pulled at me. I could sense it swirling within him like boiling oil. I locked eyes with him and the blood drained from his face as he saw what I had become. He let out a wail and staggered back further until he hit the wall and stood there frozen, eyes wide, helplessly watching my advance. I put both hands to his throat and looked into his eyes. His face slackened, his limbs going still. There it was. Pin pricks of blackness danced in his eyes.

“Please…” he whispered, teeth chattering.

 “Fear not. Death comes quickly.” I smiled grimly. “It’s what comes after you should be concerned about.”

I squeezed.

I don’t know why I lingered . I had no interest in what happened to the husks that housed the souls I gleaned. The police would be following the trail I had left over the last few days and would be here soon, and I certainly had no desire to discuss my motives with them. My purpose was divine, not for mortal consideration. The few interactions I’d had with modern law enforcement had never gone well. They were so inhibited by the contemporary interpretation of justice and morality. Things were so much simpler when I first started my work; evil deeds deserved retribution which was measured out like for like. An eye for an eye. It was a simpler time.

My last encounter with the police ended in me being taken to a cell to await questioning the following morning. I did not wait of course. As soon as the lights went out, I slid into the shadows, leaving an empty cell behind. I doubt if anything truly revelatory had been recorded by the infrared cameras. When I draw on the shadows, all light is dampened. To the constable monitoring the cameras, I must have appeared to vanish as soon as the lights went out. I sometimes wonder whether this ever appeared in an official report or whether they quietly decided to forget I was ever there.

And so it was that I was still standing in the shadows when the police arrived. First the sirens, then the sounds of a door being smashed open, then cries of alarm as they found the bodies. The sounds drew closer and I retreated into the corner of the room, partly shielded by some industrial shelving, drawing the darkness around me like a shroud. Two police officers entered cautiously, radios bleeping, tazers raised in anticipation, torches sweeping the room. The light fell upon the crumpled form by the wall.

“We’ve got another one,” the female officer said into her radio.

The male officer approached the body cautiously and peered over to get a look at his face. “It’s Hunt,” he said.

“Dead?” the female officer asked, edging closer.

“Reckon so,” he said, kneeling to get a closer look.

The officer moved her torch slowly around the edges of the room. “Gun’s over there.” She kept the torch beam on the gun but didn’t move towards it.

The man nodded, then looked back at the body. “Doesn’t look like there was much of a struggle.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen which he used to pull the collar of the shirt down a little. The skin was an angry red with dark purple imprints where my fingers had been. He gave a low whistle and shook his head in amazement.

The female officer leaned closer. “Just like all the others. Who on Earth could do this? I mean, how many do you reckon there are?”

“At least twenty.”

They were wrong. It was 27, starting with the boy, ending with this one. I twitched, feeling the urge to write in my book, but that would have to wait.

“So,” she continued, “the suspect enters the warehouse, strangles the guard on the door, then works his way through the building, strangling them all one by one, until her reaches Hunt. And no alarms get triggered? No shots fired?”

“Yeah, appears that way,” the male officer said.

“Do you know how long it takes to strangle someone to death?”

He paused, thinking. “About 30 seconds?”

“For unconsciousness maybe. Brain death though? More like five minutes.  Maybe ten.”

He glanced at her askance.

She shrugged. “I Googled it, after we found that boy in the alley.”

It was at this point that she walked in.

It was as if she brought the light in with her: blonde hair, pale face, cream tailored suit, eyes flashing as she focused on the body. The two police officers hurriedly stood and backed away, acknowledging her arrival with swift nods and murmurs of “Ma’am.” 

Her eyes swept the room. I pressed myself into the corner. Her piercing stare swung in my direction, and I shut my eyes and held my breath, my heart thumping in my chest. I listened to the click of her heels as she moved around the room. I risked a look. She was standing in front of the desk, looking down at the seat I had sat in. Her eyes moved to where Hunt had sat, then moved slowly, seeming to follow the path taken by Hunt. She stepped slowly over to the body, seeming to place her feet exactly where mine had stepped. Glancing over at the gun on the floor, her eyes then fixed on Hunt’s body.

“I’ll take it from here,” she said, raising her eyes to meet those of the two officers who were staring at her. She nodded towards the door. “Thank you officers.”

They glanced at each other, and then nodded and swiftly left the room, shutting the door behind them.

A few minutes passed before she spoke.

“You’ve had a busy couple of days.”

I jumped, losing my grip on the shadows for a moment.

When I didn’t respond she turned towards me and rolled her eyes. She clicked on her torch, pointing it towards me. “You can drop the shadows.”

After a moment I did so reluctantly, allowing the light to creep towards me until it caught the sheen on my boots and coat. I sighed and pushed away from the wall moving further into her beam of light.

She smiled in satisfaction as the light hit my face, although I knew light barely touched my skin these days. A millennia of gleaning dark souls takes its toll. Even in bright sunlight I appeared to be standing in the shade.

Her eyes swept over me. “Well, you are certainly dressing the part. I mean, could you look any more demonic?!”

I snorted. “Yes, I think I could actually. Have you not seen the others?”

She tilted her head in acknowledgement, then swung her torch beam towards the body. I moved and stood next to her, awaiting her judgement.

“Neat work at least,” she said.

“You approve then?”

She laughed lightly. “I wouldn’t exactly say that, but I do appreciate the reduced workload.” She glanced up at me, her eyes almost level with mine.

I saw the light burning inside her. Felt her start to perceive me. I gasped, my eyes watering, then turned away, angrily brushing away the tears.  

She sighed. “You’re in pain Bezaliel. Isn’t it time you stopped?”

I flinched. It had been a long time since someone had used my true name.

“Not until the work is done, Raguel.”

“How many is it now? A million? Two? How many is going to be enough?”

I glared at her, my jaw tight.

She held my gaze me for a few moments, her expression thoughtful. “I remember you from before. You were a carpenter. You built things.”

Her words were like a punch to the stomach.

“That was a long time ago,” I muttered.

“Beautiful things.”

“He thought so,” I said bitterly.

“And what are you building now?”

“A better world.”

She laughed lightly at that. It sounded like a peal of bells.

I winced.

She wandered over to the body and stood there, arms crossed. “Bezaliel – building a better world, one throttling at a time!”

“He did not deserve to walk this Earth,” I spat. “His soul was thick with it! I drew it out and took it into myself. The world is better off.” I hated how petulant I sounded.

She turned towards me then, her eyes wide. “Oh! Is that it then?”

I pursed my lips, hating her tone.

She smiled and walked over to me until we were face to face. “Taking in the sins of the world?” She reached up and cupped my face. “Trying to earn a place by His side?”

At her touch, warmth started to spread through me. I gasped and drew back, smacking her hand away.

“It’s been done before,” I said stubbornly.

“Yes, but not by one such as you!”

“Why should that matter?”

“Because you don’t have a soul!”

“I do the Lord’s will!”

She laughed loudly. “How would you know?!”

I made to leave the room, instinctively pulling my shadows around me as I pushed past her. She reached out and grabbed my hand. Once again that warmth flooded me and my shadows flickered away.

“If you don’t stop, I have to make you stop,” she said quietly.

“Why?”

“Because He wills it.”

I turned to face her. “He, who rained down plagues and floods on mankind to eradicate evil, how can He not want me to do this?”

“It’s not your place to judge them,” she said, steely blue eyes fixed on mine.

“Someone needs to! I’m doing it for Him!”

She snorted. “You’re not doing it for Him. You’re doing it for yourself!”

“Why does that matter if it is right?” I said, shaking off her hand and backing away towards the door, holding her gaze.

Her eyes hardened. “But it’s not right. You know this.”

I gritted my teeth and thrust my hand into my coat, drawing my sword. Once, it had emanated light from its golden hilt and mirrored blade. Now it was as black as the shadows swirling around me.

She tilted her head. “Please. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

Gritting my teeth I swung. Faster than my eyes could perceive, she moved to the side. The black blade sliced harmlessly through the air, the tip clanging against the floor sending up a spray of concrete chips. Throwing her own hand out to the side she summoned a dagger of light. Then in one graceful move, she stepped up to me, capturing my sword arm and pulling my body tightly against hers as she pressed her blade to my throat. I felt that warmth again and light enveloped us. The shadows fled.

I felt weak, as if we had fought a mighty battle. I slumped in her arms as her sparkling eyes continued to stare into mine, silently cursing my weakness.

“What now then?” I said through gritted teeth.

She smiled gently. “An ending.”

My eyes watered. “Please,” I whispered, “don’t cast me down further.”

Her eyes softened. “I can’t take you back.”

The darkness swirled inside my chest and a wave of nausea swept over me. I nodded and a tear spilled down my cheek.

She sighed. Then her jaw tightened, her stare intensifying. I felt a heaviness spread through me, as if something was being pulled from my body. My eyes fell to the blade at my throat. Black tendrils streamed from me, down her blade and into her hand. I raised my eyes back to hers. Black motes danced across her eyes. I gasped, collapsing slowly to the floor, limbs flaccid and heavy, still held in her arms.

She laid me down gently. “This is the best I can do.” She pressed her lips to mine. I gasped as she drew the last of it from me. She drew back and smiled down at me as the black motes dissipated, the blue returning. “Oblivion,” she whispered as she slid the blade into my heart.

I surrendered and let the light claim