I stand in the corridor of doors. I'm rarely here since the gate stone can take me to the exact place I'd like to visit, without having to go through the corridor of hundreds – maybe thousands – of doors.

I want to open one of them, to see what hides on the other side and how it compares to the Eleven and the Oak. But I still cannot muster the courage to do it. Instead, I walk through the corridor trying to learn the names of the worlds. The first doors belong to First. Afterwards comes Blomst's. I study the name the Oak a while longer, it's above the beautiful wooden door surrounded by a frame of twisted branches. The next line leads to Couleur's worlds, they're named after different color in French. Like Vert and Noir.

It's easy to learn the rules for the doors' names, they always have something to do with their guardians. Some of the worlds I don't know which guardian they belong to, except the last line covered in black doors with stars and planets or moons. By the appearance itself it has to belong to Saturn. After that, it looks like the rest of the corridor has fallen into the darkness. On the opposite side, where First's doors are lined up, the edge ends abruptly, but this side the platform stretches out while it gets narrower the further out it gets. It feels like I'll fall into the darkness and never get up again, if I was foolish enough to try and walk the little piece that's left of this side.

I've been here for hours. Most soul wanderers I see takes the middle door – the one leading to Arkaros. Occasionally Soul wanderers take their apprentices to their new worlds. I try to muster up courage to climb the few steps to the Arkaros' gate. But I make no progress. Nor can I place where this fear of mine comes from.

I extend my hand and call forth the next contract. Above it lays the gate stone, I pick it up. Allie Reid is written in elegant handwriting. It was her who had the lowest number, which meant she was the first one I'd reap. I have a few days to decide if I want to shapeshift or not.

I can see her in front of me as well, the red curly hair and the square-shaped face with the intensive green eyes. There's no smell this time. The contract disappears and I extend my other hand, the gate stone folds itself out.

To no surprise, another hospital awaits on the other side. Rampion hadn't exaggerated that most of the contracts would be in hospitals. I've never liked them; they remind me too much of the hospital room that my dad died in. I still remember how it felt, like I stepped into death. Was my soul already aware that I'd turn into a soul wanderer? It was likely that the soul had already been reaped and what Emma had seen was a soul wanderer – or one of the fractured. For my dad's sake I hope it was the former.

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I follow the calling once the gate has turned into a stone. There's no sound, just a feeling of someone needing me. When I arrive the door is thumping in the same way Joseph's had done.

The first thing I notice inside the room is the window. It's dark outside and the rain is whipping against the glass, filling the room with the sounds that reminds me of autumn. I would like to open the window and see if my face can feel the raindrops. But I know it's futile.

A bed, a little TV mounted on the wall, and two chairs are everything that fits into the small room, if you don't count all the hospital items. Allie isn't moving, with a tube in her mouth she lies silently in her bed. A man is sitting next to her with his torso hanging over her lower body. One hand is carefully holding hers.

I can feel it now. The unbearable hopelessness and the will to die. She crawls under my skin and spreads her miserable sorrow throughout my body.

I sit down at the chair next to her. While she hasn't reacted to my presence, I know she's aware of me. She even knows who I am, and she's thankful I've come.

I lay my hand over hers and caress it carefully. "I'm not here to free you yet," I begin and speak as softly as I'm able to, "but when I come back, I'll free you from this. Then you'll be able to move on."

I squeeze her hand and for just a moment it feels like she squeezes mine. The half-closed eyes look even more hollow now. It's different from the intense, eager eyes I had seen before I came here. I let go of her hand and get up.

"When I come next, you'll receive your rest."

I think I hear a thank you. It's likely the thread connecting the harvester with the contract that makes it possible.

I head to the corridor, this time before I conjure the gate stone. It had been a mistake to do it in front of Joseph. Even if it did seem like he wanted my existence a secret, not that anyone would believe him.

The hospital staff pass through the unfolded door, making it move like waves on water until it gets the same solid shape.

Can you reap a soul before it's ready? The pain and hopelessness I felt was something I'd never want to see someone go through. Yet, in the end I don't dare to defy the guardians nor destiny. Besides, a thought has made itself its way to my mind, and I'm not sure I like it.

Rampion might have been right about shapeshifting. Whether I use it or not, my job is to reap souls. If I could make it easier and more comfortable for them then it was worth it. If I felt dirty afterwards, I could always continue reaping as myself. The longing of peace as well as the hopelessness have lodged itself far into my skin. I'd like to give her what I can.

If I'll shapeshift I need to visit Arkaros. Clover is avoiding me, and Artemis is still busy. Those who remain are Rampion and Sun. I have a hard time imagining them saying yes. But I have little choice in the matter.