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Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Horror/Scary · #1230807
She is nameless, but the realm of the shadows call her Death....
The Raven Child


My name is unknown to me, as are my mother and my father. I have not known the warmth, love or touch of another being for years.. I do not know for sure, what my appearance is. All I know is what I have seen in reflections of puddles in water. My hair flows in a straight string-like manner down to my feet, and my skin is a pale, pale white. My nails are long, like claws. My eyes glow a bright yellow when I am searching for the soul that is about to leave this earth.

Because of this, humans fear me, and seldom see me. It is when they are in-between the realm of the living and dead that they finally know of me. You are probably asking, now, what it is I am to see such things.

I do not know the answer. I am not a ghost, nor am I a phantom. I am not even human. I am something which lies, forever damned to an immortal life of collecting souls of the passing, and bringing them to where ever thier path may lead. Wether that path be heaven or hell I do not know.

I think perhaps, it might depend on what faith you have. If you are Pagan, you will be reborn. If you believe in God, you may go to heaven or hell, depending on what your deeds in your current life have been.

Once, there was Christian man who asked me, “Haven’t you seen the gate?” and my answer was no. I have seen no gate in all my years as guardian of the souls. There is no gate for me, but humans see what they want to see. Wether it be a gate to heaven, or to hell, or the gate which you gain a new life, they will see it even when it isn’t there.

Perhaps, the gates are there and I just do not see them. Perhaps it is only those who are worthy enough that are privileged to witness the gate opening, to be beckoned into there heaven. I would not be surprised if that were to be the truth.

I am tired of my mind wondering like this, thinking of things that cannot be changed. I mourn over a life that I never had. I mourn and I mourn, but crying does not bring that which I desire, and so I shall go on.

The sun is rising; the clouds and the sky are a bright red. Blood has been spilled, and there is a new soul for me to guide. A crow flies to me and wait as I stood in the forest as the rain fell.

‘Master,’ he called in my head, and I looked at him curiously, for his voice was urgent, ‘we must let this one be!’

I stared at him- never before, had he wanted to leave a soul to a fate worse than even this eternal damnation which has been bestowed upon me.

“Why?” I asked. My heart thudded against my transparent chest.

‘Do not ask. We mustn’t interfere. Not with this one. Leave it be, leave it be!’ My bird cooed franticly as he raced around in circles.
© Copyright 2007 MalfoyGirl (serenitymalfoy at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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