The man before her did not cower or beg for his life. His face was bloodied and bruised, but even through his swollen eyes, he glared up at her, his lips pulled back in a snarl. A smile pulled at the woman’s lips and she sat on her heels as she regarded him. Her palm cupped his face for a moment, then her fingers trailed down his cheek. When she spoke, her voice was smooth and warm, and she let out a sigh like a hum.
“I’m sorry it has come to this, Alistair.”
Alistair spat at the ground at her feet. “You’ll never find her, Deandra.”
Deandra smiled. “Oh, but I will. I know just how to get your sister to show her face. Her true face.”
Alistair pulled sharply against his restraints, getting as close to Deandra’s face as he could. His shoulders heaved with each pained breath he took, but he did not speak.
Deandra let her fingers trace his face once more, trailing down his jaw line. With the tip of her index finger, she pulled his chin gently closer to her. Alistair’s breath held as her eyes opened and he searched them, but they were as hollow as her soul.
Deandra quickly moved her hand over his throat, shoving him back against the wall and gripping his neck tightly. He choked and gasped for air, and Deandra pressed in, her lips hovering above his. She could taste his soul and she licked her lips in anticipation.
“It’s time for you to leave this vessel,” she whispered against him. She pressed her lips forcefully against him and his body jerked toward her. Deandra placed a hand on the small of his back, steadying him as she pulled away slightly, and her lips parted. His mouth fell open as she sucked his soul out of his body in light clouds of opaque mist. His soul gathered in the air, forming a rounded ball of mist that bobbed up and down for a moment.
Deandra took a moment to study the soul curiously, dropping the body to the ground as she did so. She moved her fingers around it, causing the mist to swirl and dissipate. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to Alistair’s empty body and once more, she pressed her lips against his, willing her own soul to enter him. Her soul rushed through her body, out of her throat and into him where she settled in quickly. She allowed herself a moment to feel for her controls, stretching down into his limbs.
Her eyes opened. His eyes opened. Deandra looked down at her own empty body. Without a soul, her body would quickly die, but Deandra had already prepared for this. She picked up her body, throwing it over her shoulder and quickly moving downstairs into the underground bunker where the holding chambers waited. She carefully placed the body inside, then moved to the control panel that activated the seal and lock. As long as her body remained unharmed, she would be able to return, no matter what happened to Alistair’s body.
Unlike her soul, however - warm and safe in the confines of Alistair’s body - Alistair’s soul had nowhere to go, and in turn, would quickly die, leaving only a vessel of who he used to be. For as long as Deandra occupied it, Alistair’s body would remain. And to the rest of the world, Alistair would still be Alistair. No one would know that Deandra’s soul occupied it.
Such was the way of the anitæon.
Comments (0)
See all