The Soul Snatcher - A Short Story by True

   So I've got a special surprise for y'all today - True of A True Writer (she's a fairly new blogger, and you guys need to check her out because she's doing epic things with her piece of the internet) is sharing an awesome piece of one of her stories with us today!

   True actually won the writing contest way back in September - however we decided to put off posting her winning entry for awhile, but its here now! Enjoy it, you guys. True's a master with words. 

When a shy, small voice called out to Mistress Levine on her way home from the market, she almost hurried right by. But Kiera seemed drawn to the voice, and after chasing after her daughter, Mistress Levine had found herself talking to a beggar boy within a few minutes.      

His bright eyes were almost wistful when he asked her, "Do you fancy a portrait of your little lass? I can do them right pretty, if I say so myself." Something about his soft voice, his meek smile prompted her to nod uncertainly. One hand reached into his worn shoulder bag and drew out a thick drawing pad. His hands were rough and calloused, Mistress Levine noticed - and they were the only part of him that was remotely clean. He looked rather pathetic, sitting there propped against the side of a wall. His tunic was tattered and dusty, and his shoes were falling apart. A shock of hair fell into his eyes, and he brushed it away, his eyes glancing back to Kiera. Picking up his pen, he studied her, as if drinking in the details he needed to know. She stared back with unconcealed wonder.      

But his hands seemed to have a magic hidden in them. Mistress Levine peered over his shoulder as he hunched over his paper, and her breath caught as she watched him work his magic. His pen danced around on its cream paper stage, an elegant trail of ink marking its path. The boy guided the pen around the page with quick, skilled fingers. In a few minutes, an image of her little niece was blooming on the paper. First an outline, then shadows, and then, before she could so much as gasp, the boy seemed to capture Kiera's very spirit in his fingers and ease it into the artwork.      

"Finished." Setting his pen aside, the boy gave one last glance at Kiera and then at the drawing, and tore the paper from his pad.            

Mistress Levine took it, drinking in every detail. The girl on the page almost was Kiera. There was the way that she tilted her head, the smile glinting in the corner of her eye. Why, the ink girl even seemed to shy away from the fingers that touched the paper, so much like her niece's shy spirit. The boy had spun magic with his fingers and his ink.

        A quiet cough startled her, and she looked down at the boy's face. A small, dry smile graced it as he looked up at her. "You like it?"       

     "Oh!" She slipped her hand into her purse and brought out the gold coin. "Of course. It's magnificent. Thank you." She was still breathless, her eyes being drawn again to the ink child on her hands. "Kiera, come see what he's done."      

Kiera walked slowly towards her, like a prisoner walking to his execution. Instead of jumping up and down in delight, she stood still and stared at the drawing, silent.       

      "Well, Kiera, do you like it?" Mistress Levine asked, noticing with a smile how even the little locket hung from the ink girl's slender neck.      

"Yes."            

The quiet reply bothered her - normally, Kiera would be overflowing with excitement. Mistress Levine touched her hand to Kiera's forehead, but she was cold, not hot with fever. Nevertheless . . .            

"You look a bit pale, Kiera-lass. Come, let's go home, and I'll fix you something." Mistress Levine turned to the beggar boy, who was still staring at them. "Thank you, lad. You have a tremendous gift in those fingers. May the saints bless you."         

"And you," he said, nodding his head. Still marveling over the fine artwork, Mistress Levine hurried Kiera home. Some broth, some cookies - Kiera would be up and her own self soon. Her eyes would sparkle, as it did in the portrait. She couldn't wait to show her husband the drawing.

 ---      

Rayth watched the woman and girl as they blended into the crowd. Already the urge that almost drove him mad every moon was starting to wane. But the guilt that always followed was blasting in full force. He closed his eyes, but could only see the brilliant eyes of the girl - Kiera, the woman had called her. They sparkled one second, then became dull and glassy the next. Just like always.

             As the tingling ceased, he looked down at his fingers. The ink had stained his fingers, as a permanent reminder of his crimes. Like burns after branding. Like blood after murder     

A flower peeking through a crack in the wall caught his eye, and he picked up the pad of paper. Flowers calmed him, helped satisfy the urge. He flipped to the last page in his sketchbook where dozens of blossoms graced the page, and found a blank spot. His fingers tingled with energy, and a few pen strokes later, and a black and white replica bloomed on the page.

            But the flower in the crack was withered and brown. Dead.      

He gathered up his pen and paper silently, glaring at his ink-stained fingers and the withered flower. They called him an artist, blessed. They didn't see the monster in him. Cursed to kill with every masterpiece.

Flowers, he could handle. He could capture them and their beauty without remorse. But soon the urge would come again. Only a soul could ease that. Capture their soul - keep them close.      

He drew out the vial that hung on a chain around his neck. For a moment, he watched the dancing orbs. There was a new one, brighter than all the rest. It was, after all, still a fresh soul. That would feed him for a few months yet.

  Wasn't that amazing? I'm desperate for more, it was so good! And now you guys can hop along and check out the author herself, True, on her blog A True Writer.

   Now, I'm off to read that epic thing again xD.

~ Savannah Grace 

did you guys enjoy the story?

chat with True in the comments!