Fallen [Part 2]

They were dragged across a graveyard filled with statues of their kind, some with cracks running across their cold, stony bodies; some with missing limbs and misshapen faces; some with bulging eyes, a flattened nose barely containing nostrils and lips that spread across both cheeks; and some with their facial features completely eroded as if mashed by a giant's hand. And of course, the moaning was something else – it echoed endlessly like a chant. The lingering souls with nowhere to go took the form of pellucid figures drifting across the ground, although one could hardly see the ground with the intensity of the phantom-like mist and ice-cold fog that came with a pungent-choking smell.

They floated, whirled and glided aimlessly, lamenting, groaning and sometimes humming. They were all trapped and caged here because of their missing pieces – their souls were incomplete, somehow torn and damaged in hysteria when they were still alive, or because of a traumatising coma or an excruciating death involving a cult, to a point that the harm was irrevocable and they were forever condemned. Those souls collected from Earth would often undergo a series of complicated trials and reclassifications before they were sent off to their next destination – either up or down or back to start another cycle.

E had never felt anything for these poor, deserted souls before, not until now. Every time he glimpsed those hollow eyes, chalky faces and scrawny bodies almost reduced to bare skeletons, he resisted the urge to cry out in despair and cover his ears with his hands, which were, unfortunately, cuffed now by spiky metal chains so heavy and tight they threatened to pull him down into the soil.

A colossal structure stood before them, masked by the thick mist – a construction with mixed features of what would be a typical sanctuary and an ancient castle from the human world, with sophisticated carvings on the pure black walls and numerous disproportionate sculptures of skeletons. They knew what was awaiting them inside, just as the vast gate opened its mouth slowly with a deafening groan. They were yanked into a dim place that resembled an assembly hall decorated with dark, stained mosaic glass windows, with hundreds of their kind sitting solemnly in a line on both sides. The aisle stretched long to what would appear like a throne in humans' eyes, but seriously, it was just where their Boss was sitting and this is actually how they call him in general. Some might address him as their Master, just to sound flattering, but in truth, they share the boss-subordinate kind of relationship, only that in this realm, a Boss can punish any subordinates, determine their fates or eradicate them directly.

Humans have various names for them, much to E's amusement. They call their Boss the Angel of Death or the Grim Reaper, but they would simply say they are just a Soul Collector. They collect people's souls when the right time comes – they don't execute them or interrupt the chain. That's the ultimate order from the Lord. Everyone's course of life has been predestined from the moment of birth and such a cycle would repeat for however many years their souls are reincarnated or are left wandering or shifting between parallel worlds. E appreciates the way humans believe they have the power to bargain and make changes through endeavours, clinging to a faith that if they work hard enough, there will be a hopeful turn of things when in fact, there is none. What is meant to happen will happen surely, and E and S have seen enough of pointless struggles or futile attempts to conclude so.

But right now, their fates were the ones in the spotlight. Eyes of cold daggers fell on them as they were dragged to their Boss, an inhumanly dark gorgeous being with a face that could only be described as pristine, pale and symmetrical, with high protruding cheekbones, a slanted nose and a prominent chin underneath his thin lips that curved slightly upwards. His eyes, blacker and more hollow than anyone else's, had penetrated so many souls that just by simply taking a glimpse of them, even supernatural beings like E and S could feel shivers, as if they were re-experiencing the moment of death from those whose souls they had collected, discarded and sent to Heaven or Hell or Earth. Their Boss was sitting cross-legged with his massive wings, twice the size of his body, outstretched, wearing an elegant long, black gown of pure silk. His shoulder-length glossy hair was just as black as his feathers.

'I made you a pair so that you wouldn't have to work alone,' said the Boss in his deep, magnetising voice. 'So that when one fails a task, the other would surely get it done.'

At this point, E and S were brought to their knees, their wings chained behind them. They kept their heads low, avoiding to make any fatal eye contact with their Creator.

'When one falls prey to demonic temptations, the other would rectify and exterminate him,' continued the Boss. 'But for both of you to defy the protocol together, it is such a rare thing. What should I make of your readiness to get lured, E; and of your reckless and unpardonable saving of those human souls, S?'

'I shall take full responsibility,' said E almost instantly, bending his head so low his forehead almost touched the ground. 'I convinced – no, manipulated him because I couldn't bear to collect those souls. I want to drag him with me.'

'That's not true,' protested S, lifting his head to stare into the eyes of his Boss. 'I just...well, I don't know how to even put it –'

'You feel something,' said their Boss, standing up from his seat. 'Something painful, perhaps? Warm?'

'I...don't know...' answered S. He wasn't created to feel and the word 'feeling' still remained foreign to him. He had heard of 'pain', of 'warmth', of 'love' and of many abstract terms beings like him shouldn't be associated with – something that only belongs to humans.

'Love,' said their Boss eventually, bursting into laughter. 'Oh dear, what a first-class demon you have encountered, E – to be able to taint you with such contagious pleasurable feelings you were able to infect S. We all know as a Soul Collector, we shall harbour not the slightest feeling or emotion.'

E and S nodded submissively. Their Boss strode forwards, standing right in front of them as he stared down at his two guilt-ridden disciples, some of his finest subordinates. He remembered creating them, deliberately pairing them up so that E's white hair stood in such a wondrous aesthetic contrast with S's dark hair and so that E's meekness could be compensated by S's boldness, but – what a miscalculation of placing two binary opposites together. He had omitted the perilous possibility of polar attraction – one of the founding bases of this world.

'Now, now, what should I do?' asked their Boss to no one in particular, but his eyes scanned the room full of his subordinates, all of whom either kept their heads low out of respect or avoided meeting his intimidating glares due to sheer fear. The Master of Death paced around E and S slowly, staring down at the two condemned Soul Collectors in contemplation. With a simple snap of his fingers, the two boys could simply evaporate into a billow of smoke or turn into one of those hideous statues in the yard, forever moaning with those forsaken souls. However, punishments do not serve solely the purpose of deterrence and to him, they are sometimes an intriguing form of entertainment.

Wielding the long, thick scythe in the air, a grin sprawled across his face. The ground cracked beneath E and S, gradually forming an enormous, bottomless gap that resembled an abyss, a portal leading to an unknown destination which might, to E's greatest terror, be connected somehow to Hell, the last place he would want to receive his retribution in. He was not ready to join the Satanic alliances or to bump into that very same demon who had led him astray. He had only himself to blame for his lack of self-control and stamina, but S did not deserve any of this. He only broke the rule because he...

Oh right, why did S even tag along with him?

He couldn't help stealing glances at S, who looked austere and composed as usual. There was no remorse or fear in his eyes and as he returned E's gaze, a simple smile was sufficiently soothing. It was as if they had been tethered to each other for centuries or even millennia, living through and as part of each other.

What they didn't know was that their Boss, essentially creating them out of fragments of broken souls gathered from this universe, had inadvertently split the very same soul into two and they became the vessels for these separated pieces.

The greatest punishment wasn't to tear them apart, because they would always find each other. But to deliberately place them together knowing that they could in no way blend again was malevolent and tormenting, even more so when one part went missing or became mortally wounded.

The portal opened wide and just as it began to suck them in, their wings, tied by rattling chains, got yanked out of their backs callously, the pain amounting to having one's abdomen being sliced open and all the insides being hooked out. Wings to them are parts of their skin, their flesh and their skeleton. Being deprived of them is equivalent to being ridded of all their powers, statuses and privileges. Barely given any time to grieve or peek at the gruesome slits that ran vertically across their backs, E and S fell into the dark portal, never seen again.