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Guardian Angel part 3

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Anaxagoras
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         To finally be able to walk in the world of the living sure is a great change in environment but that wasn’t the only change. When I was brought back to earth, I noticed my entire outlook changed drastically too. My scars and horrendous body had been wrapped with white bandages. My arms, legs, chest, even my mouth was covered. Only my left eye and my hair had been left uncovered. To my disbelief, I have hair, very long wavy hair. To cover the bandages, I wore an old tattered black robe. Finally, attached to my right hand through black chains was a black 16th century Arabian sword.

 

        Upon the surface of the sword, inscribed the conditions of my stay on earth. Firstly, this sword is merely a tool to mark escaped souls from hell by any means necessary. Lastly and probably the most important, should I kill the innocent, this sword in return will kill me and the chains attached to me will drag me back to Hell.

     
       As I pondered upon my new attire, I had not realized a woman walking towards me. Before I could even react, she completely walked right through me.

 

“Just figured you didn’t exist?” said Azazel and again from behind me.

 

“I was wondering when you were going to show up?”

 

“How cute, the workhorse has humor. I’m only here to make sure you get the job done. Hell doesn’t run on gas. It needs souls. You see that man over there?” said Azazel as he pointed out to the man walking on the opposite road. I took notice and nodded my head.

 

        Then, the demon’s eyes flashes as black chains flowed out of his hands and pierce into that man’s chest. The man suddenly grabbed his chest as though he was about to have a heart attack. Azazel then pulled what seemed to be a soul out from that man’s chest and into his belly.

 

“My God you killed him!”

 

“Firstly, God has nothing to do with this. Secondly, he isn’t dead. He was possessed by an escaped soul. Look, he’s regain control of himself. See how his dumb expression explains everything. He’s probably thinking, ‘oh my God I’m finally free’. Well whatever. Now, go get my souls.”

 

         Despite not being told of who my targets were, for some reason I already knew who to hunt. It was as though it had been placed in my head and so my afterlife job began. Each hunt made me more skillful with the sword and sometimes I’d get souls that fought back. As the sword described, I merely mark them. Each hunt I embark, the soul I mark would be chained to the ground by its own hell chain. Normally I’d just walk off to a new hunt but this time I decided to stay and watch.

 

        I waited not far from the terrified soul. It was as though he knew what was coming. Then a frail and pale man approached the soul. His eyes were white like death. He then placed his palm over the soul’s head which instantly set the trapped soul ablaze. The soul’s dying voice faded away with the burning of its soul.

 

        The frail man then turned towards me and within the blink of an eye, he stood before me and spoke in a voice that sounded like a young choir boy.

 

“Curious, you never wait for me. Why wait now? Was it because you wanted to know who collect the souls after you tirelessly mark them? Am I what you expect? You shouldn’t mind people’s business. Don’t worry, you’ll see me again, when I come to collect your soul, again.”

 

        In an instant, the reaper; assuming that it is one, vanished. However what it said got me thinking though. Was it the one that brought me to Hell when I died? I proceeded on with the next soul. This soul was a mass murder when he was alive. His targets were mostly woman. He’d first rape them and then butcher them into several pieces. I tracked his soul to a single terrace house. I entered the house by walking through the front door expecting to get this one done quickly.

 

        To my shock, the damned soul had possessed someone and was about to slash the woman in front of him with a cleaver. At that moment it hit me. That woman is the single mom that I saved a year ago.

 

Previous short story:
Anaxagoras
Next short story:
mum.friends.love
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