Retriever of the Lost Souls (Retriever Series Book 1)

by Brian

  Martin took his final breath and suddenly understood what had happened, and then he was gone.

  Talitha was still yelling when everybody returned from their walk and hearing the commotion they ran upstairs to find Talitha cradling Martin’s lifeless body.

  Chapter 25

  Talitha had not left her bed since Martin’s death. Not only did she miss Martin and wish that he were still by her side, she was also very afraid. She had failed her mission. She knew the coven was awaiting her return and the combination of her pain at the loss of Martin and her fear of the coven left her unable to think clearly. It wasn’t until the day of the funeral that she finally left her bed. It felt as if her own life had ended, right alongside Martin’s.

  Still deep in her mourning, she felt a tap on her shoulder and knew that Wilmot was sitting on the bed next to her.

  “Wilmot, what will I do without him? How can I go on? Please tell me that he went above.”

  Talitha looked at him with a mixture of worry and fear.

  He sighed heavily. “Yes, he went above. But it is time for you to come back. Since they have been calling you and you’ve not answered, I was sent to get you. Talitha, you must know that the consequences to you are severe. I warned you to be careful.”

  “I can’t go right now. Katherine still needs me. There is no one to take care of her. She is too young to be on her own.”

  “She is in Marcos’ hands now. Don’t worry. But you must come with me now.”

  “I know this. I am ready,” Talitha sighed.

  Then with a twisting feeling from within, Talitha left the body of Susanna and was transported back to the depths of below and was immediately overcome by the horrible smells and the evilness of her world. She knew that whatever punishment was doled out would be severe. She had broken one of the cardinal rules: Don’t fall in love with your target.

  As she was walking to her room, she heard Jasmina call their names, ordering them to report to the Council chambers immediately.

  They solemnly walked to the Council chambers and knocked on the door, which slowly opened, allowing them to enter.

  “There she is! The traitor! The one who could have saved our coven and chose to betray us instead!”

  Jasmina’s shrill voice rang loudly, echoing off the walls. Talitha hung her head, not knowing what to say. She knew that she would lose what privileges she had earned and would probably not be allowed to travel again beyond the Fourth Door. However, she didn’t care. All she wanted was to have her life with Martin back.

  Jasmina’s face contorted with anger as she came down from her curule chair and approached Talitha. She had thought long and hard about Talitha’s punishment and decided that the first order of business was to remind Talitha of who and what she was. Jasmina raised her hand and slapped her as hard as she could, causing Talitha to crumple to the floor in pain.

  “Oh, please, no --” Talitha cried out.

  Jasmina approached her again, repeatedly kicked her in the stomach, ribs, and face. Writhing in pain, Talitha managed to stand and backed up as far as she could. Jasmina closed in on her like a lion on wounded prey.

  “Guards come here now!” Jasmina yelled.

  Two guards stepped up quickly and grabbed Talitha by each arm. Pointing to the door, Jasmina screamed, “Take her to the transitioning room! It seems our friend here needs to be re-transitioned and reminded of just who is in control.”

  “Oh…. no…. no…no…. Please not there... please Jasmina…. I am so sorry for what I did…. please not there….”

  Talitha’s voice trailed off as the guards dragged her away.

  Vigor looked at Jasmina and smiled.

  “Very well taken care of, my dear. Talitha will learn her place one way or another.”

  “Oh, believe me, she will learn her place very quickly,” Jasmina cackled loudly.

  Outside they could still hear Talitha’s screams echoing off the walls of the corridor.

  The guards shoved Talitha violently inside, face to face with the same men as before, eyeing her with gleeful lust. They had longed for her nubile body ever since their first taste of her. As soon as the door closed, they formed a circle around her and descended upon her. She was shoved from one to another, sometimes across the ring, sometimes to the next man. Then, with no warning, they were all upon her as they were slapping, kicking, touching and biting her everywhere. Her clothes had been ripped off, and once again Talitha was repeatedly raped until she lost consciousness. Pushing the men away with his stick, one of the guards picked her up and threw her over his shoulder with her head facing backward, as if she was a slave, and took her to the Third Room where he dropped her on the floor. Once they had left, Dianna ran over to her, relief washing over her, knowing finally that Talitha was alright. For it had been a very long time since she had seen her friend.

  A few days later when Talitha was able to move, the guards came to get her again, and once more she was subjected to the horrors of the transitioning room. These sessions occurred repeatedly until Talitha felt as if she was going insane, then mercifully, the day finally came when Talitha willingly got up and walked to the door of the transitioning room to wait for the guards. She no longer cared what happened, and she no longer thought of Martin, Wilmot, or anything else. When the guards arrived and saw her waiting for them, they took her to the Council Chambers. Wilmot was there, looking every bit as poorly as she did. Talitha felt a pang of regret that he too had been subjected to the same punishments. She mouthed the words to him, “I’m sorry.” But with their every move scrutinized Wilmot merely stared at her, then looked away.

  “Are you ready to become one of us again, Talitha? Are you ready to forget all that happened in Killeen?”

  Talitha didn’t know what else was coming but was frightened by Jasmina’s menacing smile.

  “Yes, your Highness, I am ready,” she said weakly.

  She was too weak to close her thoughts from the Council, and as she stood there, her thoughts trailed back to Martin, the children, and the years she had spent with them. Looking at Jasmina and the rest of the council, she knew with full certainty that they had just read her thoughts.

  “I am sorry, your Highness. I can’t seem to stop thinking of them. I am trying, but the memories won’t stop.”

  Tears ran down Talitha’s face as Jasmina just looked at her and then smiled.

  “My dear, don’t worry. I’ll ensure you will never remember again. EVER.” Jasmina laughed loudly.

  Their eyes met and locked. When Jasmina lifted her hand and placed it on Talitha’s face, her eyes widened with fear as her thoughts began to swirl. She was unable to focus or put them in order. Magus was taking care of Wilmot the same way, and her last thoughts as she collapsed to the floor were of Martin. Then, the deed was complete. Their memories permanently erased in such a way that no herb or remedy known to human or spirit would ever be able to retrieve them again.

  Chapter 26

  The Council had little use for Wilmot, so he kept to himself most of the time. He wasn’t used for missions anymore, so he decided to petition the council to allow him to roam the coven. Jasmina initially scoffed at his bold request but opened it up for discussion by her Council.

  “Because of his slight build, he isn’t any threat to escape,” Mercro, one of the council members said.

  Then Talamar spoke. “Besides, the little boy will be easy prey for the guards who wish to take him anytime they choose. It’s like the transitioning room without the walls.”

  Jasmina looked at the two of them as a wicked grin crossed her face.

  “I like that idea! Can you hear him now? Oh! Oh! That hurts! Stop it!”

  The council roared with laughter and Jasmina signed off on Wilmot’s petition.

  “Bring him here,” she ordered.

  Moments later, Wilmot found himself trembling before the council. Jasmina flashed her sickly-sweet smile at him as she spoke.

  “Wilmot, dear, you’ve dared to petition the counci
l with such a request?”

  “Y— yes, your Highness, I—I have.”

  “Well, dear, after careful deliberation, we’ve decided to approve your request.”

  Elation, followed by dread, coursed through Wilmot’s body.

  “We don’t consider you a threat to try to escape. However, any perceived threat to do so, and you will be summarily destroyed, is that clear?”

  “Yes, your highness. I shall not cause any trouble,” he said, bowing slightly in her direction, his knees weak.

  “The only room that is off limits to your sorry ass is the Room of Comfort. You may go now,” she said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand.

  Bowing once more in her general direction, he backed away from the Council and out the door.

  He ran as fast as he could to get away from the Council’s chambers. Out of breath, he fell up against the wall, sobbing. After collecting himself, he began wandering the corridor he was in, looking at the locked doors and shaking his head at the misery behind them. He was lost in his thoughts when he rounded the corner and bumped into somebody. He was instantly terrified. When he looked up, he saw a woman he didn’t recognize. She didn’t seem to be like the others and was not wearing the traditional black dress of the coven. She was lovely and spoke with a Mexican accent.

  “Where am I? I’ve been looking for my husband all day, and I can’t find him.”

  Wilmot was confused as he looked at her. She seemed vaguely familiar to him, but he didn’t know why.

  “What is your husband’s name? Perhaps I know who he is.”

  “I—I can’t seem to recall how I got here. His name is Martin.”

  A pang shot through Wilmot. Martin. Why did that sound vaguely familiar to him?

  “I don’t think I know him. What is your name? Do I know you from somewhere?”

  “I’m Susanna,” she said.

  Susanna. Martin. Wilmot was trying to get his head around those two names. He knew he should know them.

  “My name is Wilmot,” he said.

  “I feel like I should know you, but I can’t place when or where I’d know you from,” Susanna said.

  “I have to go,” Wilmot said as he tripped over his own feet. He didn’t know why, but he felt that he needed to get away from Susanna as fast as possible.

  Over the course of the next several days, Wilmot and Susanna became friends. Outside of Talitha, she was the first friend Wilmot had ever had. The Council had been made aware of this, but both of their memories were erased and fuzzy at best, and Jasmina deemed there was no threat.

  One day as they were walking, Wilmot turned to Susanna.

  “Why don’t you wear the same black dress the other women wear?”

  “I’m not sure. Nobody ever talks to me except for you,” she said. “I still feel like I know you, but I don’t know why.”

  “I don’t know, Susanna. I’ve been here longer than I can remember.”

  Wilmot was still perplexed. It seemed that Susanna had no idea where she was, and since she didn’t seem to be distressed about it, he never mentioned it to her. Whenever Susanna would ask questions about the coven, he would sidestep them and tell her he had to go. Wilmot tried talking to Talitha about it, but she was too busy on her missions and didn’t have time. The council had desired that they be kept separated ever since their epic failure.

  Chapter 27

  For nearly two centuries, Talitha was untrusted and carefully watched. If she did one thing that didn’t seem right, or if she veered off the plan, Jasmina quickly pulled her from the assignment. Over time, however, with each successful mission, Talitha began to gain the trust of the Council once more. She brought down soul after soul, completing her assignments with ease. Whatever the task, Talitha planned it with great care. She didn’t understand why she had to report to the Council before each of her jobs since none of the other Seekers were required to do so, however she didn’t complain because doing so would bring swift and severe punishment.

  Since beauty and gentleness were her most significant assets, Magus often sent her to clergy, farmers, politicians, and musicians. When the calendar turned to the twentieth century, she went to World War One, the Roaring Twenties, the Great Depression, World War Two, the bee-bops, Woodstock, and the Vietnam War.

  One night after completing her latest assignment, Talitha was once again locked in the Third Room. Dianna came to her and told her about a young man she was trying to bring down. He was a college boy who had many dreams and was the one the prophecy spoke of. She told Talitha how she was falling in love with this boy and how she came to him in his dreams. She explained that she left him in such a manner that when he woke the next morning, he would think it was “just a dream.” This time it was Talitha’s turn to remind Dianna of the cardinal rule. The Council, however, was already aware of Dianna’s transgression and had decided to make an example of her to any others who might forget where their loyalties lie.

  They called Dianna into the chambers to advise her that her next assignment was to be a fight. Standing before the Council, she whimpered as Jasmina descended from her curule carrying a vial of a green-looking concoction which smelled of putrid water. She spoke to her in that sickly-sweet voice of hers.

  “Dianna, darling, before you are sent to fight, you are to drink every last drop.”

  Dianna said nothing for fear of invoking her wrath. One of the guards approached Dianna from behind, grabbed her blonde hair and yanked her head backward, forcing her mouth open. Then, pinching Dianna’s nose, Jasmina poured the drink down her throat, forcibly closing her mouth once emptied. When she was satisfied, Jasmina let go of Dianna’s nose, causing her to cough, sputter, and gasp for breath. Without warning, Dianna collapsed. She tried to stand, but her legs wouldn’t support her. She screamed in terror, not understanding what happened.

  Jasmina took one look at her and smiled.

  “My dear, whatever is the matter? Should you not be standing before us?” She sneered.

  “Yes, your Highness, but I can’t. My legs won’t work. What is happening?” she sobbed.

  “Well my dear, we warned you repeatedly to be careful with your assignments. Unfortunately, you did not listen. Now you will have to work without the use of your legs.”

  Turning halfway toward the Council, Jasmina continued.

  “But, being the compassionate Council that we are, we have instructed our expert craftsmen to make this chair with wheels for you.”

  Pushing the wheelchair, a guard walked over to Dianna, picked her up, then dropped her roughly into the chair.

  “In three days, you will be going to fight, so you’d better prepare yourself, my dear.”

  Jasmina and the rest of the Council walked out, leaving her there.

  “WAIT!” Dianna cried. “How do you expect me to fight like this?”

  Vigor turned and looked down at her with disgust.

  “Figure it out yourself or be destroyed.”

  Dianna looked at her worthless legs, sobbing as fear wracked her body. She began to wheel herself back to the Third Room, the guard in tow making sure she made it. Talitha ran to her in tears, knowing Diana's outcome.

  A few days later, Dianna was indeed called for her assignment and told that she would no longer be bound to the Fourth Door. Frightened, Dianna begged to stay, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. Then, the guard quickly pushed her into the beam of light, transporting her out of the coven.

  She found herself in front of a giant of a man who somehow looked familiar. Dianna was frightened beyond belief and couldn’t get the niggling feeling out of her mind that something wasn’t right. Frozen by fear, she just stared at him, hoping for the best, fearing the worst.

  “I came for a fight, and they send me a cripple?” he roared.

  His voice. Suddenly Diana remembered. With her voice quivering, she asked him his name, stopping his rant in mid-sentence.

  “I am Ventier,” he said, puffing up his chest.

  Dianna gasped and tried t
o back away from him as fast as she could. It was he who took her soul below all those years ago. She wasn’t paying attention to what was behind her and crashed into the wall, falling out of her chair. Crawling on her forearms, dragging her legs and feet behind her, she headed back toward the coven.

  “You don’t want to go back there,” he said. “I can help you.”

  “Stay away from me! You did this to me! I hate you!” she screamed.

  She looked at him with tears streaming down her face. Ventier then realized who she was, but then was troubled by another thought. He realized that he loved her, as unimaginable as that was. He had never been able to get her out of his mind. She was the reason he had finally decided to leave the evilness of below and start anew in the middle. He had changed much from his soul gathering days as long ago the thrill of the hunt and conquest had left him. Picking her up gently, he placed her back in the wheelchair.

  “I can help you,” he explained, “so that you never have to go back.”

  Dianna stared at him numbly.

  “I can take you to the Middle to live with me. I deeply regret what I have done to you as well as many others. If you allow me to, I’ll provide comfort and care for you always.”

  He picked her up out of the chair, and then with a flick of his wrist, caused a thunderous explosion that rocked the space between them and the coven.

  A wheel from her chair came rolling back into the coven, satisfying Jasmina and the Council of the outcome. The next day, the Council made the announcement that Dianna had been destroyed because she had gone against the rules of the coven, then reminded everyone that the same fate would befall whoever disobeyed them.

  A downtrodden, heartbroken and thoroughly defeated Talitha received summons to the Council chambers. She wondered what more they could do to her. She had lost everyone she’d ever loved. Jasmina had been especially cruel by leaving her mind with blank spots where her memories used to reside.

  This time, however, the Council wasn’t present. In their place stood the supreme men of below: Tedor, Gerranor, Namus, and Shaymo. It was Shaymo who spoke.