The Souless Ones

CHAPTER1

         Waiting, hoping that the bastard standing in front of him would run, Zack stood still. His black trench coat broke the silence as it flapped back and forth against his leg with each gust of wind. Zack open and closed his right hand, holding back the adrenaline that wanted to flood his body. “Run you bastard” he thought hoping almost begging that his prey would attempt it. The word please slipped passed his lips, with an outward breath.

         Glancing over his right shoulder to make sure his witch and scribe were there, he let his mind shield fall allowing them to speak to each other with thoughts. Telling them to be ready for a chase, “This one looks like a runner.”

         Receiving the ready from both, he turned and focused on the Skripi, “I am Jarl Zack, you have been found guilty of soul collecting. I…”

         They never let me finish before they run, Zack thought as he watched the Skripi run down the street. Smiling he turned looking at his scribe and witch, “Ready” he asked, reaching behind his head pulling out his sword as they replied yes.

         Holding the sword in his right hand above his head he looked up, letting out a howl he released the adrenaline he had been holding back. As the power rushed through his body, it filled each and every cell. The air around him charged with electricity, growing stronger with each second.

         He looked first to his scribe, as the power Zack released filled him, then spread out to empower his witch, forming the Trinity as they now shared his powers. A blast of electricity shot up and out causing street lights, and windows blocks away to shatter.

         “Time to hunt,” Zack said, with a smile.

         “Jarl do you want me to release the pacer?” His witch asked following him down the street.

         “Later,” he said shaking his head, “I want this to last; he was too easy to find the first time. I was hoping for a challenge.”

         “Well, I for one like it when…”

         “Look,” his witch interrupted his scribe, pointing at a shadow in a window ahead of them.

         “Damn,” Zack said sweeping his left arm out in front of his body. “See what I mean, there’s no challenge anymore," he said continuing down the street. Stopping in front of the door he looked back saying, "Being a Jarl is getting boring. I remember when...” his words were cut off as he opened the door, hearing a click. He opened his mouth to give warning when a blast knocked him across the street into the side of another building.

         Shaking his head back and forth, trying to get his bearings. Through the ringing in his ears he heard his old Jarl asking, "How many times is it going to take before you learn? "With a sigh Zack looked up as his scribe and witch came to stand in front of him.

         He smiled sheepishly. “I guess I should have expected that.”

         “Well if that’s not a challenge, I…” Zack glared at his scribe causing his words to trail off. Pushing his self up, he stood facing the building across the street. The doors twisted hanging outward. Bricks from the building was strewn over the street.

         Stepping over debris he made his way to the doors, knocking down the Skripi as he tried to run past. Placing his foot on its chest Zack laid his sword against its throat.

         Looking over his shoulder at his scribe, “see if there is more names to be added to his crimes.

         Zack searched the Skripi's face, he wanted to ask him why he would chose to take the lives of humans, instead of protecting them. What could turn a hero and protector into a demon and killer.

         "You want to know why don't you?" Zack shook his head not wanting to look into its eyes, fearing it would know that he did want to know.

         Smiling down at the Skripi, Zack noticed the lack of fear in its eyes. “You would do well to fear me.” he said as he put more weight on its chest.

         Seeing a flash of red out of the corner of his eye, Zack watched as his witch knelt down placing her bag next to her on the floor, preparing her spells to catch the souls that would be released, as soon as he detached the Skripi’s head.

         Hearing footsteps Zack looked up to see his scribe walking towards him, looking down at the open book in his hands.

         “I’ve added three more names to his crimes, but there are two more that I couldn’t find names for.” His scribe said as he looked down at the Skripi under Zack’s foot.

         “Your name?” he said.

         Zack glanced down when no answer came, and lifted a little pressure off of its chest. “Give him your name, so he can add it to the book.”

         When the Skripi still did not answer Zack pushed the point of his sword in its throat causing blood to trickle out. Watching its Adams apple bob up and down as it tried to swallow, he asked again.

         “Jon Delaw,”

         Looking at his scribe to see if he heard the name, when he started writing Zack looked back down. “Who is your chief?” He pushed down on the sword to let the Skripi know that he wanted a name.”

         “I’ll never tell you, to say his name would be my death.”

         “I already told you the name of your death, it is mine; do I need to say it again?”

         “You can say it as many times as you want Zack, for you will not be my death.” Jon said with a painful smile as Zack added more weight to his chest.

         “If that what you believe, I’ll just have to prove it.” Zack looked at his scribe “Read.”

         When the scribe started reading Zack nodded to his witch. As the words of the witch and scribe blended into one voice, Zack lifted his sword up and around his head, swinging it down to take of the Skripi’s head. The sword connected with a loud crunch as it separated head from body.

         Waiting for the last body movement Zack stared at a knife it lifted up. Zack moved his sword to block its blow, as the knife flew past him. “You missed,” he said as the body fell still.

         With a hiss, puffs of white clouds drifted out of the body. Zack turned, as they circled around his body saying thank you. Instead of going into the witch's bowl, they swept past him.

         “Stop them,” he yelled as they continued to travel out the door. “Witch!” he yelled turning to were he last saw her. Cursing in seven different languages he fell to his knees, yanking the now lifeless body of his witch into his arms.

         Lifting her head he kissed her forehead then leaned his against hers, closing his eyes. “She has been with me for over seventy five years. She was to be elevated to crone within the year, I didn’t tell her. I wanted to surprise her when it was done. Oh by the Gods I’ve killed her.

         “Jarl you didn’t kill her,” his scribe said kicking the headless body. He killed her.”

         “If I hadn't been so sure this was an easy hunt. I should have known, never should I have let my guard down. I…”

         “No one will blame you, Jarl the Skripi have never struck at a witch before. Or scribe. Jarl we must go, before the human law comes.”

         Standing with his witch, No, he could call her by her name now, she is Jana, no longer his witch. He didn’t feel any pain from her death, that would come later, when she was buried, and then he would feel the pain from the loss. The pain would come when he released the blood he had take from her when he made her his.

         Not wanting to think about what was to come, he walked towards the doors knowing his scribe would gather their belongings. “Don’t forget this,” he said kicking the head, causing it to slam into the wall next to the door.”



Hopefully I will have this edited, and Chapter 2 ready by the end of this week.