The Devourer by Chris Chelser

Author:Chris Chelser
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: depression, suicide, historical, supernatural, afterlife, grief and loss, psychic, 19th century

Chapter XVI

Her ardent attempts to reach him pounded against his shield, even as he descended into the deep darkness. Too much distance between them, in his own opinion, but her irrational insistence required it and he had other means of gauging the situation besides enduring her proximity.

After his departure from the threshold, the more benevolent entities the woman attracted had resumed their swarming about her. Small fish that would scatter at the first sign of a predator. A crude alarm, but it would have to do. For her sake. At least until the fury burning in the pit of his soul had subsided again.

That woman! His teeth gnashed; an unpleasant vibration in his being. He had prepared to meet resistance, resentment and a multitude of violent reactions when presenting his plan. However, such an invasion of his shield had not been anticipated.

Unthinkable impertinence!

She had been terrified of him. Scared and apprehensive. How, under those circumstances, had her wordless thoughts managed to crawl under his skin? His shield was his protection, separating him from the rest of the world and safeguarding both. Guides, parasites, none could penetrate it. Never! Yet she had casually scratched at his soul to peer inside.

What angered him most wasn’t what she might have uncovered, but rather that she had managed to come this close in the first place. Any memory of consequence was safe from her, locked away too deep and too well even from himself. Such thoughts only surfaced unbidden, unwarranted. Not at the call of some brazen woman.

Even so, the incident demanded precautions. He would have to mind himself around her, not give her further opportunity to dig. What she could unleash if she did! The damage she could do!

Enticing as her energy was, from now on he would have to regard her as a neutral factor in his plan. Potentially a hostile one, depending on her future behaviour. The boy was less volatile in that respect, but it had proven a no less undependable ally. Disappointing.

Yes, disappointing, but also beyond his power to change and therefore a fact.

A fact.

That soothing notion quelled the confusion plaguing his soul. Facts, whether to his advantage or disadvantage, were a certainty. A solid stepping stone in the quagmire of existence. Facts didn’t change. Facts were reliable.

More importantly, facts could not be deviated from. And it was a fact that he had a miscreant to catch.

It was, however, also a fact that his ability to do so was limited, and that he required assistance to succeed. Of the two realistic options concerning such assistance, he considered the woman the lesser of two evils. Thus he would have to proceed despite her uncalculated demeanour. He snorted. Whatever her motivation to attempt to infiltrate his mind, he wouldn’t let her try again. That, too, was a fact.

His coat – his shield – tightened around him as he gathered his renewed resolve and put the woman from his mind. She was merely a means to an end. Only the hunt mattered. He would do well to remember that.

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