The skies rumble as rain continues to lightly drizzle down. The small umbrella I’m holding barely does its job, failing to stop sprays of water from drenching my socks. I don’t even know why I’m here – all I know is that I’m feeling just as terrible as the weather, and as lost as a droplet of water in the sea.

Dad is gone, and Judith is in a critical condition.

It’s all the truck driver’s fault. If only he hadn’t taken to the wheel after drinking, they’d still be here. A jail sentence is too lenient for his crimes; he should die –

No. He didn’t intend for this to happen, he just made a stupid decision.

I hope Judith’s alright. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her too. Mum’s taken the biggest hit though, she literally looked like the walking dead this morning. I heard her sobbing through the walls last night.

Flash.

The sky rumbles again. I shouldn’t be out so late at night – Dad always told me not to wander around alone.

But Dad’s gone now.

Before I know it, the sound of rushing water has crept up to me. Ashbrook Bridge lies ahead, spanning the identically named river below it. The waters are overflowing from the rain, and have slowly begun to invade the footpaths on either side.

Right ahead, in the middle of the bridge is a man. He looks away from the distance and sees me. I wonder what’s going through his mind – seeing a ten year old boy all alone at night, in the rain too.

Our eyes lock for a brief moment, and the rain stumbles in its intensity. I almost drop my umbrella in surprise.

It’s the truck driver. The man who ran over my family, who is responsible for Dad’s death.

I slowly walk towards him. He looks back impassively from his position on the bridge.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. His face is drawn and haggard, and his eyes are bloodshot. I don’t know if he’s truly sorry, or if he’s just dreading his future in a prison cell.

I say nothing in response. I don’t know how I should feel.

“They’re everywhere,” he says. “Everywhere I go, I see them. They were the reason I drank, they were why I took my eyes off the road.”

What’s he talking about?

“You probably wish I was dead, don’t you?” he asks, a sad smile on his face. “Even I wish I was dead. I wasn’t thinking straight that night – they were all around me, whispering into my ear. The alcohol did nothing to drive them away.”

He’s speaking in a resigned tone, as if he’s given up all hope. I’m confused as to what he’s trying to tell me – is he saying that he’s sorry? Or is he trying to say it’s not his fault?

He turns back to the railing and climbs onto it. Is he going to jump? If he jumps down, will he die? I can’t quite comprehend the significance of his action, but I know he’s doing something big.

Is it really fair for him to get away so easily? To leave this world behind?

“Don’t jump,” I finally speak. My voice is quiet, but even amongst the steadily increasing downpour of rain I know he can hear it.

Lightning flashes again, followed by another rumble. It’s really starting to pick up now.

“If you die now, you won’t be able to serve your punishment.”

The man sighs. “I’m already living it, kid – I’ve been living it for the longest time. And I’m the only one who’s been living it.”

He gestures wildly around the empty space next to him. “They won’t stop whispering. They’re everywhere I go, a whole group of them. I can’t do it – I’m already at my limit.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, puzzled. “It’s just you and me on this bridge –“

And then, something brushes past me.

I drop the umbrella, looking frantically around. I still see nothing. Rain begins to seep into my skin.

“Oh no…” the man says. “They’re here. They’ve come to take me…”

He turns and tries to haul himself off the edge of the bridge, but a sudden force pulls him backwards and slams him onto the ground. It’s at that moment that I see a flash of something – something tall, thin and pale.

“No… please don’t…”

The man begs to the empty air before him. Scared, I take a few steps back.

“You don’t want to kill me in front of a witness, do you?”             

I’m shocked. It’s the first time I’ve seen a grown man, an adult, reduced to a sniveling wreck. He crouches on the ground, whimpering with his arms above his head as he begs for his life.

Whatever he was talking to must have responded, because the man’s face suddenly pales even more.

“No…”

At this moment, he suddenly jerks upright and screams, a scream which is quickly cut off to a pathetic croak. An ethereal being unveils itself from out of nowhere, draining the man’s soul. It couldn’t be anything but a soul – a transparent substance full of life, shimmering with all the colours of the rainbow as it disappears into the thing’s face. With the completion of the transfer, the man slumps onto the ground, unmoving. I instinctively know that he’s dead.

I want to open my mouth and scream, but I’m rooted to the spot.

The faceless, weightless entity slowly turns towards me. It’s not attached to the ground – rather, it’s levitating a few feet off it. The spectral wraith reaches out a single bony hand towards me, slowly as if it has all the time in the world.

“Go away…” I manage to croak.

As it nears me I begin to shiver. The rain has soaked me to the bone now, but I’m certain the thing before me has something to do with it as well. I feel a great sense of depression as I look into its eyes.

“This one has yet to experience it…”

The wispy voice startles me. I didn’t think it would be able to speak.

More voices begin to join in.

“So innocent…”

“So happy…”

“So unburdened…”

More of the things begin to fade into existence. I blink several times, but they’re still there.

They’re everywhere.

Something hard touches my back and I realize that I’m trapped, right up against the edge of the bridge. The spectral beings are all around me – there are easily a dozen of them, of all sizes but with identical features. Their faceless visages are constantly shifting, never stopping on one form.

“This one is a rarity…”

“He will make a fine specimen…”

“So pure and uncorrupted…”

The voices are so numerous that they begin to overlap. I have no idea how many haven’t revealed themselves yet. As if they’re all drawn towards me, their bony fingers reach out to touch my skin.

“The pure ones are so much more filling than the sinful ones…”

“Go away!” I shout, louder this time. My hands pass through theirs, and icy cold chills pass through my body upon contact.

They’re right up against my face now, their cold exhalations brushing up against me. I can no longer feel the rain or the wind, only the cold of these spectres. The voices buzz in my ears, blending into one loud monotone.

Then, they all make way for one wraith. It’s the tallest one, the one which took the truck driver’s soul.

It reaches a hand out towards my face… and begins to drain me.

I can feel it – my soul, something which I could never feel before. There are some things you never realize are there until they’re gone, and your soul is one of them. As the substance begins emerging from my pores, channeling into the wraith, I feel my strength leaving me, my feelings, my senses, everything. The grey rain falling onto the bridge begins to fade into one mix, a puree of depression, of lifelessness.

Somewhere at the back of my mind, I’m resisting. I’m trying to pull it back, pull back the one thing of mine which cannot be replaced.

“No… please…”

I can see it. A long stream of translucent colour, stretched to the absolute limit as it holds onto my body with everything it has. The voices are overwhelming my senses – they are the only thing I can hear, the only thing I can focus on.

My soul… give it back…

Before I know it, I’m putting all the energy I have left into pulling back. The cerebral strain is devastating – all I can focus on is just holding onto that part of my body which was with me from birth. It’s a mental tug-of-war, between myself and the horde of spirits. The only thing keeping me sane is my base instinct, the need to survive.

At one point, something gives way. Still dazed and unable to comprehend anything, the force snaps as if it were a rubber band stretched past its limit. I go flying backwards, my upper half tipping precariously over the railing of the bridge.

My balance lost, all it takes is a strong wind to blow my small body over the edge and into the river below, the tainted essence of my soul trailing behind.

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***

“You…!!”

I can feel it overwhelming me – the emotions that I experienced that night, the night it all started. They’re part of the reason Dad is gone. The truck driver was the one who killed him, but he’d been driven to the brink of madness by the demons. The only reason he’d begun drinking was because of them; the only reason he’d swerved too hard was because they’d deliberately distracted him.

They deserve to die. I don’t want anyone else’s life being ruined because of them.

“Come to me, Nightfall.”

It answers me like it did back then – the tainted blade, stained by demons.

I feel its power coursing through me. The strength and will of my soul, my instinctive hatred of demons, manifested in the form of a blade. The darkness that reflects the darkness in my heart.

The vampire raises its head from the corpse and tilts its head at me. According to Alice, it fled last time after she drew her blade. This time however, it shows no signs of fear as it stares me down.

Things can only get easier if it doesn’t run.

Letting out a cry, I charge into the fray. I am one with my soul – united through our hatred for demons, and our thirst for blood. I bring down Nightfall in a vicious arc but the feral vampire leaps back, narrowly avoiding it. A chunk of the concrete ground cracks from the impact.

Wiping its bloody mouth, the vampire reaches out its own arm. Before my eyes a crimson glow begins to materialize, solidifying into a jagged razor.

A Divine Edge? Has the vampire progressed so quickly in these past few days?

A silent message passes between us. It will do everything it can to survive – such is the law of the wild.

I can’t afford to let it live. If it’s adapted so quickly to be intelligent enough to wield its soul, there’s no telling how much further it could go. I have to kill it now before it becomes a bigger problem than it already is.

The beast growls before lunging forward at a blindingly fast speed. I blink once, and it’s already on its way towards my neck.

But I can go faster. The blink of an eye is plenty of time for me.

I parry the strike, gritting my teeth as sparks fly from where our blades cross. I can feel the vampire’s power – savage and unrelenting, knowing no bounds or restraint.

“I don’t suppose you can talk, can you?” I ask.

The vampire snarls a response before pushing away from me. I don’t give it a chance to recover, leaping after it with my sword brandished. Each swing jars my shoulders, but the discomfort is lost in the adrenaline of the moment.

Kill. I want to kill it.

A frenzy takes over me. There’s no need to put so much strength and ferocity into my blows, but I can’t stop myself. I’m panting already, my sweat freezing in the cold winter air.

Kill it.

At one point, we both slip up at the same time. Nightfall slashes through its forearm, while the razor tears through my thigh. We both disengage, panting as we stare across the bridge at each other.

The pain feels good. It’s been a while since I’ve had such an urge to kill. I feel the most alive when I’m on the brink of death.

Clutching at my thigh, I cringe as the cold eats into it. However, before my eyes, the wound is beginning to close up. Similarly, my opponent has already stopped bleeding, its pale skin knitting itself back up.

“No rest for the wicked,” I mutter, re-engaging. The vampire defends itself as I slam into it again and again, already losing myself in a berserk rage. I might as well be wielding a club, because there’s no way something like this can be considered swordplay.

The vampire retreats further and further as I press my offense, until it reaches the edge of the bridge. I’m smiling without even realizing it – a bloodthirsty smile brought up by thoughts of victory, and blood.

Bringing Nightfall up, I slash at the monster before me. In a split second, it makes its decision and leaps over the edge of the bridge.

Infuriated at having my kill taken away from me, I rush to the edge of the railing. The drop is at least fifty metres long, but I see nothing below me save the calm waters of the Ashbrook River.

Then, a change in the air pressure behind me leads me to turn around, just as the vampire tackles me. It must have scaled down, across the underside of the bridge and back up to the other side to ambush me.

Coughing in surprise, I can only grapple the vampire as we go tumbling into the murky waters.

***

I’m falling.

The world is lurching around me, heaving and twisting. One moment the river is the sky and the sky is the river, the next moment it’s neither. Rain races me on the way down, the clear droplets suspended in mid-air as they match my speed. My soul tails me, only barely attached to my body.

After an agonizingly long moment of weightlessness, I crash through the surface of the water, entering a complete zone of darkness. I should have broken something, but I’m still able to move. Clawing around the viscous river, I kick and fight my way to the surface.

Air. I need air. Nothing else matters but air.

The resistance against my head gives way and I breathe it. Wonderful, delicious air.

My next thought is of land. I need to get out of here, to stand again on solid ground. I need to be able to move.

Coughing and still half-blinded by the murky water in my eyes, I swim. I scramble and claw, crawl and kick my way across the river, one painstaking stroke at a time. Everything has left my mind – the truck driver’s death, the soul eating spirits, my traumatized soul – there is only one thought in my mind, and that is to survive.

I roll onto the muddy grass a few metres away from the footpath, gasping and wheezing. The rain continues to assault me, as if trying to finish the job that the river couldn’t.

Something cold touches my face, not even allowing me a single moment’s rest.

There’s no rest for the wicked, after all.

I force myself onto my feet. The wraiths are everywhere – they’ve drifted down from the bridge and are crowding around me, their disjointed voices calling for me. I am alone on the path, there is no one nearby, no one to help.

“He was fun while he lasted…”

“Foolish human thought he could escape with alcohol…”

“So easily startled…”

I clamp my hands against my ears. My soul is slowly sinking back into my body, but I can see that it will never be the same again. Where the wraith touched it, a black disease-like glaze is spreading. The lively, ethereal substance has become dark and withered, tainted by these ghosts.

“He wasn’t the cause behind the accident,” a voice breezes past me. I turn around, catching a flash of white among many. “We distracted him, we caused him to swerve. It was so good, the way his miserable soul tasted…”

“The deepest misery we’ve tasted for a while…” another voice calls out.

“But yours… it is so pure, so uncorrupted… truly a rarity to find a boy who has experienced no hardships…”

Something strokes my face.

“Go away!” I shout into the horde.

I can’t breathe. They’re smothering me. It’s only a matter of time before I give in, before I run out of energy and collapse. It’s so cold…

Just so… cold…

I feel it again. Something’s grabbing onto my soul, pulling it out from my body. The withered, dark substance is leaving me again, and I don’t have the strength to fight.

Is this it? Am I going to die just like this?

No.

Whose voice is that…? I can’t distinguish from all the other ones, but for some reason it stands out to me…

It’s not over yet.

Is that my voice? It sounds like my voice… but at the same time, it sounds alien.

My senses are dulling. A shady darkness is falling over my mind’s eye, like the setting of the sun, like the fall of night.

There’s something in the distance, something which seems familiar like an old friend. I just can’t remember the name of it.

As the last rays of light disappear, I see it.

My soul.

***

We plunge into the darkness, bashing and clawing at each other. I feel burning pain where my exposed wounds make contact with the water, but fight on. As we continue to sink, the currents break us apart.

Thud.

My feet touch the bottom of the river. It’s eerily quiet, an isolated zone separate from the outside world. It’s almost like I can forget about my troubles here.

Kill.

I bend my knees and leap upwards like a spring, channeling as much energy as I can into my legs. I feel a barrier of water building up in front of me as I fly to the surface, before it explodes and fresh air greets me. Taking note of my surroundings, I quickly prepare myself for a safe landing.

The breath gets knocked out of me as I hit the grass in a spray of river water. On the other side of the river the vampire has clawed its wounded body to the pathway, a trail of blood leaking behind it. The harmful bacteria from the water must have slowed both our regenerative traits.

I try to stand up, but one of my knees gives way. Opposite the river, the vampire creeps to its feet and shakes itself of the river filth, before slowly beginning to hobble away.

“Damn it…”

I can only watch as it slowly carries itself off into the distance, turning a corner and disappearing from view.

A few moments pass as I quietly listen to my own breath, until someone calls out to me.

“Bran!”

I already know it’s her. The pattering of her sandals drawing closer are already pulling me back, back to the heavy rain that was pouring on that night.