Soulbound

10

The city never really slept, but tonight it felt sick.

Elias Monroe adjusted his paramedic jacket as he stepped out of the ambulance, the neon glow of storefronts smearing across the wet pavement. The call had come in as another “disturbance”—the third this week in this neighborhood alone. Fights breaking out in grocery stores, suicides on rooftops, people swearing they saw things crawling in the shadows.

He’d worked twelve years in this city. He knew the signs of strain, of poverty, of people breaking under the weight of their lives. But this was different. The air itself felt… wrong. Heavy. Like walking through smoke.

His partner called from the radio. “We’ve got another one, Eli. Guy’s raving in the alley behind Seventh. Claims something’s chasing him.”

Elias muttered a curse and jogged around the corner. He’d expected a drunk or a junkie. Instead, he found a man pressed against the brick wall, eyes bulging, mouth foaming with words Elias couldn’t understand. Not English, not any language he knew—harsh syllables that grated like knives across glass.

“Hey,” Elias said, keeping his tone calm, hands raised. “It’s okay. We’re here to help.”

The man’s gaze snapped to him, and Elias stumbled back. His pupils were blown wide, but behind them—there was movement. Shadows roiling, like something alive pressed against the glass of his eyes.

Then the man screamed. Not in fear, but in rage. His body jerked forward with unnatural speed, knocking Elias into the trash cans.

Before Elias could draw breath, the alley itself seemed to writhe. Darkness leaked along the walls, curling like smoke, reaching with grasping fingers. Elias scrambled for his radio, heart pounding so hard he could barely think. He swore he saw a face in the shadows—half-formed, wide-mouthed, teeth where there shouldn’t be teeth.

And then the man collapsed. No breath. No pulse. The shadows snapped back into nothing.

Elias staggered to his feet, chest heaving. The body lay motionless, but the wrongness lingered, thick in the air.

For the first time in his career, Elias didn’t call it in right away. He just stood there, staring at the alley, whispering a prayer he wasn’t sure anyone could hear.

Avery felt the shift before her feet touched mortal soil. The Veil parted with a sigh, and she stepped onto cracked asphalt glistening with rain. The scent of exhaust, hot oil, and city rot filled her lungs. For a moment, her knees nearly gave out.

Home.

It wasn’t her street, not the one she’d grown up on, but the city was alive in ways the Veil never could be. Cars rumbled in the distance. A neon sign flickered overhead, advertising noodles for $5.99. The steady hum of electricity buzzed in the lampposts. And above it all, Avery could hear voices—human voices.

Kael stepped through behind her, scythe concealed but aura sharp as a blade. He took one look at the sky, at the unnatural heaviness clinging to the clouds, and his expression hardened. “It’s spreading fast.”

Avery tore her eyes from the flickering diner sign across the street. “It feels… off. Like the city’s holding its breath.”

“It’s not the city,” Kael said. “It’s the soul. You left it behind, and now it’s feeding on anything it can reach.”

The words dug deep. Avery clenched her fists, the sigil on her palm pulsing. “So this is my fault.”

Kael’s gaze cut to her. “Fault doesn’t matter. Consequence does. Look.”

He gestured down the block.

A cluster of people had gathered near a cordoned-off alley. Yellow tape fluttered in the damp wind, and police lights painted the street red and blue. Medics wheeled a stretcher toward an ambulance, a sheet drawn over the figure on it. The faces of the onlookers were pale, restless, shifting with fear.

Avery’s stomach dropped. “It already killed again.”

Kael’s voice was low. “It won’t stop. Not until it’s claimed, or until it grows too strong for even the Council to leash.”

The weight of those words pressed down on her. She tried to steady her breathing, but the pulse of the city was everywhere—throbbing, loud, alive. People living their lives, oblivious to the shadow clawing through them. People who didn’t deserve to suffer for her failure.

Kael moved ahead, his presence cutting through the mortal crowd like a blade through smoke. No one noticed him—humans never could. To them, he was just another trick of the light, a ghost at the corner of the eye. Avery followed, but she couldn’t stop staring at the people’s faces, their fear, their confusion.

One little girl clutched her mother’s hand, eyes wide as she whispered, “Mommy, the shadows were talking.”

Avery froze. The words echoed like a stone in her chest. She wanted to kneel, to ask the girl what she’d seen, to comfort her. But Kael’s sharp voice pulled her back.

“Don’t engage. You’ll only make yourself vulnerable.”

Avery tore her gaze away, her throat tight. “She’s just a kid.”

“Kids die the same as anyone else,” Kael said flatly. “And if you fail here, a lot more of them will.”

The cruelty in his tone stung, but she knew it wasn’t cruelty—it was truth. And maybe fear, buried deep in his words.

They slipped past the police line, unseen, and entered the alley. The stink of blood and rot hit Avery’s nose instantly. The walls were streaked with something darker than spray paint, shadows clinging unnaturally to the bricks.

Avery’s hand shook as she touched her scythe. “It feels stronger.”

Kael’s eyes narrowed. “It is. It’s hunting now.”

As if in answer, the air split with a sound like glass cracking. A ripple ran along the wall, and the shadows twitched, forming something almost humanoid before dispersing again. The echo of a scream rattled through the alley—not human, not anymore.

Avery’s heart slammed. “It knows we’re here.”

Kael’s grip tightened on his weapon. His voice was calm, but underneath she could hear steel.

“Not just that. It knows you.”

Avery’s blood went cold.