House of Night by PC Cast and Kristin Cast

i cried with their deaths, but i didn't even shed a tear when Heath was killed. In fact i was pissed off. It's not that i don't like him, but the way he was killed, was all too much Manson liked.

I was actually kinda relieved when Heath died its not that I don't like him and wanted him dead I just got tired of him and the whole triangle mess I wanted him out of the way just not really by death

_____________Prologue______________________________

I ran down the street pushing through the many groups of night goers and partiers. Downtown on a Friday night was usually good for getting lost in, but tonight I just wanted out. Turning down a dark alley I ran by some homeless people and by overflowing dumpsters. Looking for my next quick exit, I darted down another alley this one more narrow and more deserted than the last. Dead end. Shit! I turned my back to face my oncoming attacker. You see human or not we are all born with the same natural instincts, fight or flight. Well tonight I had chosen flight, but seeing as that was no longer an option I was stuck with the former.

Three of them approached teeth razor sharp claws like talons, they looked like Tasmanian devil dogs on steroids. Hell hounds. I placed myself in between the hounds and the soul I was protecting. The hounds approached slowly and a shadowed figure stood behind them calling for them to halt in their attack. The dark shadow was the only form the servants could take in this world. They were hells collectors, not to be confused with what I do. The shadow spoke to me in ancient Latin, I understood him perfectly. let the soul go and I will spare your pain and suffering. It was true all he could do is bring me extreme pain and discomfort, yeah and maybe some suffering, depending on his mood. Being immortal meant I couldn’t be killed.

The soul of the young girl behind me stood in fear. “She wishes to appease the court.” I stated coldly to the servant with such an authority. I was challenging him to fight my claim.

“Her soul is none of your concern, she belongs with us.” The shadow figure stated and rose his hand, commanding a black fog to rise up around us, as it became all encompassing. Behind me the girl whimpered.

I rolled my eyes at her and spoke to the servant, “look I completely agree, she does belong with you.” What! I heard the girl squeal behind me. Ignoring her I continued, “But that is not for me to decided, nor you. If she wishes to oppose then that is her right. I am confident that her justice will be brought upon swiftly and she will be yours soon enough.”

The servant was considering my words. I had spoken to him honestly. I didn’t want this girl to go free anymore than he did, but that was not for me to decide; all I was responsible for was doing my job. The girl was sixteen years old, recently killed by death penalty. When she was fourteen she was a gothic “witch” in practice. Stupid girls. While babysitting three younger children she decided to perform a sacrificial ritual she found on the internet. Needless to say it was a bunch of nonsense, witches have inborn magic it can not be learned or bought via sacrifice. I remember collecting the souls of those three tormented children. The thing was if a soul wished to dispute their charge then we couldn’t stop them. The girl was only fourteen and very naive and misguided, she served her sentence on earth and there was a very good chance she would be forgiven if she truly asked for it.

The shadow shrugged, as much as a shadow could. “I do hate coming here,” He looked up around him at the dingy brick buildings. “Such a waste, these people live in filth.” As if looking back at us he continued, “if I am to make the trip, I never come back empty handed.” He flicked his wrist and the three hounds launched up at me.

I managed one round house kick and caught one square in the jaw it fell to the ground. The other came at me from the side and took a bite out of my right arm. Ouch! This girl was so not worth it. These were the hazards to my job though. With my free hand I gouged the hound in the eye, he whimpered and let go of my arm. Lying on the ground I wrestled the mammoth beast on top of me, making sure I didn’t stay still long enough for him to get a bite. Their large over sized heads and miss place eyes on either side gave them a large blind spot. Their other senses compensated though, which made them excellent tracking dogs. The girls spirit was still bound to me and I would not give it up.

Most people in my position would have just handed her over and avoided all this. That’s why being a soul collector was inherited, no human nor spirit could ever do this job. There would be too many biases, and the souls would be divided into chaos. The hound scratched at me and I felt like my flesh was being clawed to death. The razor sharp cuts burned, oh how they burned. I jerked my knee up underneath and used my lower body strength to propel the thing off of me. I could hear the servants laughter, he was quite enjoying this. That too is why I wouldn’t just hand a soul over to one of them, they enjoyed tormenting me or anyone for that matter. It was the only entertainment they had left in their miserable existence. The servant would have sicked the hounds on me either way.

The first two hounds were rounding on me again. I reached down to my belt and drew my silver trident blade. They both leapt at me and I ran to meet one of them. Sliding underneath him I jabbed the blade into his chest as deep as it would go and dragged the knife down slitting his belly in half. Blood oozed out drenching me. I rolled quickly just barely missing his massive body from toppling on me. The other two were on me in an instant. There was no time to even right myself. One took a bit out of my shoulder and I stuck my blade into his jaw. Smoke sizzled out of the wound and he ran off. The other was trying to get a bite at my wrist hoping I would drop the blade. I tossed the knife to my other hand just as his mouth caught hold of my wrist. I stabbed him in what I hoped was his eye. He yelped and bit deeper. My tiny wrist had slipped between his teeth and got lodged in that gap. He tried to bite with no prevail. Again I took my knife a sliced at his snout. That got him.

Any animal owner particularly dog owner knows just how sensitive the nose was. You wanted one of these hounds to back off you, go for the nose. The hound tried to pull back but my lodged wrist just pulled me along with him. Dragging my aching bleeding body across the asphalt I sliced again and his nose came off in a large bloody chunk. The hound rolled over sideways and I had my opening. I threw my body over his and sliced his heart. Then I wriggled my wrist free from his lifeless limp body. The other hound was wounded but kept it’s distance. It was still a pup, it knew what danger was. The other two were adults, they were trained to keep attacking even when it meant their lives, they couldn’t stop they couldn’t help them selves.

I heard a loud growl from the shadow figure. “Grrr! She has three days, I will be back for her.” Then the servant disappeared into a black puddle of smoke on the ground . The cloud around the girl dissolved into the same puddle then the smoke disappeared completely. The pup had vanished with the servant. The other two hounds however laid lifelessly. Barley strong enough to pull myself up again, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. “I need the cleaners.”

A minute later, two cleaners showed up dressed in their all black attire. The guy wore a tight black shirt and trousers with a long black leather trench coat His blonde hair stood out in contrast as it was loosely slicked back.. The girl had her medium length dark hair pulled back in a tight pony tail. She wore a tight form fitting turtle neck with matching tight black leather pants. The two of them looked at my assignment who still stood there shocked. They split up and went to the dead hounds, sprinkling salt around the bodies and the blood; they chanted and a light flashed then all evidence vanished. All except my bleeding wounds. The girl walked up to me and looked me over. Giving me a sidelong glance she stated, “You should go see Emma.”

Emma was an angel in our jurisdiction, angels were great healers. They were not permitted to heal a human but they could heal immortals like myself. I knew a few dark angels that could heal as well but their healing ability wasn’t as strong as an actual angel’s. For my wounds tonight I definitely needed a white lighter.

The girl was still whimpering in terror, “I don’t want to go to hell, I don’t want to go to hell.” God she was annoying, with just a flick of my wrist I confound her soul into my vas which was a vessel I used to store souls. Oh she was not going to like that. Spoiled little brats.

chapter 1
Emma sat at a table on the outside patio of a coffee shop with another angel known as Daren. Sensing my approach the two looked up at me, I walked the last block before reaching them. Emma smiled, “Sytyne, how are you this evening?” Emma had a very calm, lovely melodic voice. With her white blonde hair long and straight and big blue eyes she was what I thought an angel should look like. Daren scowled at me, with his hazel eyes and medium length wavy brown hair. He looked sort of like the human’s depiction of Jesus. Though I have never actually seen the son of Christ before so who knows. “Oh my, you’ve been in a fight.” Emma exclaimed finally sensing my pain.

“Hell hounds,” I muttered. Not paying Daren the least bit of attention. “Can you? Can you help me out?” I gave Emma my sad puppy dog look. She smiled, and placed her hand over mine. Instantly I felt a warm sensation creep up my injured wrist healing the struggle marks. Slowly it seeped up my arms and then over my entire body. I felt my wounds healing, and the pain subside. The same couldn’t be said for my wardrobe though. When the healing was through, Emma removed her hand. “Thank you, I owe you another one,” I exclaimed. It was true I was in debt to Emma she has helped me out quite a bit in my past. Though angels didn’t deal in debts, she did what she did out of kindness and expected nothing in return. If I had went to a demon however you can be sure they would collect on their debts.

The dark night sky did well to hide my unsightly appearance as I walked off. Down town Denver was quite the melting pot. In some areas my appearance was an upgrade. Once you got away from the main streets that is. Making my way home to my tiny apartment I shed my clothes the minute I got in the door and tossed them into the kitchen trash. A nice long hot steamy shower had done wonders for my mood. Wrapping my robe around myself I made my way over to my computer. There was no sleep for me tonight. My fight tonight got my adrenaline going and I was wide awake. My computer was my only outlet now. You see I have tried to have a mortal job, okay well many but they never last long. My job as a soul collector is a demanding job with an unforgivable schedule.

Many of us had a hard time finding mundane work that would accommodate our lives. My new obsession was writing, I decided that writing novels was a perfect outlet for me. It let me make my own hours and it revolved around my existence. I was never at a loss for material since I wrote about soul collecting. My novels are pure fiction of course. Would you really take me seriously if I told you that everything your about to read is all true?

My short stories are published on a bi weekly basis. This however is my first attempt at a full length novel. Soul collector that’s me, my name is Sytyne pronounced (si-teen) I am 97 years old though I don’t look a day over twenty five. I am a junior collector, and won’t reach full fledge until I have completed 5,200 soul collections and at least two hundred years of age. 5,200 might seem like a lot but the truth is people die everyday. It’s my job to collect their souls and send them on their way to the other world. Once in the other world their souls are transported to heaven or hell, or in some cases purgatory. The afterlife was not my jurisdiction. It was just my job to get the souls there. Generally I gave recently deceased souls a seven day allowance to cope with their loss, before sending them to the afterlife. While the souls were here they were in a state of stasis.

Some souls saw no need for the seven day allowance and just wanted a quick departure into the next life. Often those were widows or widowers who just wanted their reunion. Suicides were often the same, they were just as eager to exit stasis as they were to exit their lives. Elderly, and sickly also wanted quick departures. They had time to come to terms with their eminent death while still alive, and saw no need to stick around. There were others of course, each soul was different with different intentions.

Some souls were difficult and insisted on remaining in stasis in a spirit form, often referred to as ghosts. They had their reasons for not being ready to let go. Some were victims of murder and those who felt their life was unjustly cut short. Others stayed out of revenge, often referred to as poltergeists, those ones couldn’t necessarily hurt me but they did scare the crap out of me. I did my best to avoid those them. To all my souls that decided to remain in stasis I warned them that by doing so their eternal fates will be decided for them.

There are four ways that a spirit form could be vanquished into the after life. A shaman had the power to send them on, which most often was hell. A powerful priest performing an exorcism almost always sent them onto the afterlife, ninety-nine point nine percent of the time they were sent to hell. There were the soul snatchers who like me were neutral beings only out for their own good. They made their existence by stealing vulnerable souls in stasis and placing a price on the souls. If the soul was good and pure occasionally heaven would pay the bounty and take it to heaven. More often than not, hell was into buying pure souls. The servants were also sent from hell to extract a disobedient soul from stasis and drag it back to hell. I didn’t recommend the last one, because your soul was doomed to be tormented for all eternity if that was the case.

My job was to take the souls peacefully, by their own accord. Soul collectors were neutral beings every soul had it’s own free will and we could not defy that, nor would we want to. In the young girls case from tonight she chose to remain in stasis until she could appeal her charge. The charge was the state of the soul. It could be charged to hell, or heaven, in some cases when the lines blurred purgatory. The girls charge belonged to hell. The upper levels handled appeals and such difficult matters. It was only my job to get her an appointment and deliver her to her appeal. Once a soul is appropriately delivered I was done with them.

Souls that remained in stasis were no longer under my protection, making them vulnerable. They were bound to my jurisdiction though. If at any time during stasis they decided they were ready to cross over they came to me and I delivered them. They could very well haunt for the rest of eternity if they so wished, as long as they weren’t caught.

So how did I get myself mixed up in this? Well I really never had a choice. My father is a soul collector as was his mother and grandmother, and so on and so on. We were born into the job. My mother was human my father met her back in the year 1901. They fell in love and courted for two years when they finally married, and had me. My mother and father split up when I was ten years old and my mother raised me until she passed away a month before my seventeenth birthday. I went to live with my father and began my training. It was then I learned about what I was. My father had to leave my mother before she or anyone else realized that he was not aging. My father collected her soul, and explained everything to her right before he delivered her.

That’s the way it is, we breed with humans to keep our kind going, it’s our duty to pass on the line. We could date and even mate with other immortals but genetically it was impossible for us to breed with them. We needed humans and they ultimately needed us. I had a human boyfriend who I adored and cared for very much but in time I too had to leave him before he grew suspicious. Fifty years later I had the opportunity to collect his soul but I just couldn’t bare to do it. The pain was too strong, and it broke my heart to have someone else collect him. There were rules that we had to abide by. One such rule was we had to wait two centuries before we were aloud to breed. This was to ensure we were complete with our training and able to balance a double life and properly train our offspring. Another reason was because we weren’t mature enough to deal with human connection. I was technically sixty seven when my father was through with my training. Now I was in sort of a probationary period.

Three more years before my probationary period is over. Another hundred until I reached full fledged collector status. You know that saying for work-aholics, you live where you work, you work where you live? Well that’s us. We were always working so it was necessary for us to live where we worked. In order to live amongst humans we had to survive as they did. We still had rent and bills to pay so we needed jobs to earn an income. So please I would love to get out of this crappy apartment, I beg of all my readers out there to continue purchasing my books, and tell a friend. Who knows maybe one day I will be collecting your soul, and placing myself between you and hells assassins. I’m just saying I might be more willing to do it if you were one of my fans.

This is really as intimate as I’m willing to get to the human race. I do crave normal friends sometimes and wish I could bring myself to interact with your kind more. My problem is I’m still young and often get attached, and well you guys die. I’m just not mentally ready to put myself through that again. So you will understand if I prefer not to make any public appearances at least in the next few decades.

Well I’m off to go meet up with some friends of mine, you might know them as the angel of death better known as Anthony, the two cleaners I mentioned earlier, Chase and Taja, and Karma better known as Seisha. They to were like me, in the sense that we were all neutral beings, we were all in this jurisdiction together and well we need friends just like anyone else.