Shiro - Finish The Story #57

Shiro

Prompt by @Brisby

Shiro paid the street vendor for his lemonade, unfazed by her curious glances to the glove on his hand. Any other day, he would have answered the unspoken questions of the smiling woman with a light quip. A bit of banter went miles in getting people to overlook his many...eccentricities.

Today though, he couldn't muster anything witty. Throngs of people were milling about the square, mindless to those who were in a hurry. His quick errand run had become a snail-paced slog behind wandering looky-loos. The brown jacket he wore was sodden thanks to the blistering bake of the summer sun. He'd give anything to shed his sweaty layers but the memories of what had happened the last time...

Compounding his exhaustion were his ever-present traveling companions. Their desperation for his attention had begun fraying his nerves since he left home. Ignoring their antics and way they clung to him had worn his energy to a hair's breadth. Sheer obstinance was all that kept him from screaming at them in the middle of the crowd.

Shuffling aside to savor the crisp drink in the shade of the over-sized umbrella, Shiro felt something crunch beneath his heel. Dammit! Whatever he had broken, it sounded expensive.

Behind him a voice shrilled, "You're paying for that!"

Shoulders slumping as he fingered his wallet, he turned. "Sorry! I didn't know...", his voice choked to a halt. Not because the person was intimidating. The blonde slip of a girl glaring daggers at him wouldn't have been able to frighten a hamster. Nor was it due to her beauty, as she had been graced with an unfortunate nose.

It was the reaction of his companions that stole his breath.

Gone were the shadowy undulations and static flickerings who had doggedly followed Shiro since he was a child. What remained were swirling vortices of crimson and pitch. Amorphous, they writhed. They wailed. The air thickened with the depth of their need.

Without warning, unctuous tendrils sprang. Shiro cried out but it was too late. Oozing with hunger, his companions snaked to envelop the girl. Her wide hazel orbs rolled to the heavens before she collapsed to the ground.

My entry:

Shiro watched helplessly as the incorporeal form thrashed on the ground. His companions now joined and doubled in size, swarmed around the faint white wisp of the girls soul. A battle of wills was taking place.

The scream died on his lips. None of the bumbling browsers paid any attention.

"Well" The girl cocked her hip. "That's fifty." She held out her hand expectantly.

Shiro barely heard her, his attention was solely on the ghostly outline of her soul, wrestling on the ground with the suffocating black vortices. It grew fainter, losing strength against the ethereal beings.

He had been a witness to their destruction all his life, watching them take from the brightest souls in the world and occasionally taking out their frustration on him. He instinctively tensed all over. They would be stronger after feeding.

The woman clucked her tongue and scowled. He fumbled a few notes out of his wallet. The ice in his lemonade melting in the clammy air. He watched as her soul diminished to nothing, the greedy black swirls searching for any remaining traces. Shiro looked into the girls' eyes, they glazed over becoming white. He placed the notes into her hand, careful not to touch her skin.

He looked down at the broken figurine under his feet, sunlight glinting off the crystal. It was beautiful even in the midst of so much pain.

The woman would never know that an essential part of her psyche had been destroyed forever in a matter of seconds.

Shiro walked the familiar streets back to the house he had only recently called home. The lemonade now tasted bitter. He would have to move again. His travelling companions swirled around him with an occasional happy yip. He could hear her: laughing, singing, crying. The sound faded as he got closer to the rushing river. The ghost played out its life as it changed and joined the shadows.

He realised he didn’t even know her name.

He pulled his jacket tighter around himself despite the heat. They would be cruel to him tonight, forcing their forms to become substantial enough to tear at his flesh. More scars to cover.

This is my entry to the @bananafish Finish The Story Contest #57. Find out about it here.

Image from Pixabay.

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