cHApTEr 6. collEcTivE minD (3 of 3)

What was supposed to be one Soul Collective turned out to be two. Mioray expected more to appear at any second, but that didn’t happen. Two shapes, resembling ghosts hidden beneath white sheets, calmly floated behind Farah, who stood at the center of the room.

The girl didn’t look scared upon hearing about the Soul Collective lurking behind her, but she didn’t so much as take a single breath. She stared into the distance, through the walls, concentrating on her next course of action, unaware that their problems had just doubled.

In the awkward silence, Mioray returned to his grim assumptions. What if a Soul Collective could actually hurt dead people like him and Farah? Had something like this happened before, but his new acquaintances had conveniently forgotten to mention it? If the Soul Collective could absorb their souls, just as it had intended to absorb the soul of the man from the street, it would make these ghosts a serious threat. More so than Impact Corpse, and that was saying a lot.

He had to warn Farah about the second Soul Collective. Saying it out loud felt wrong. He still had the impression that Soul Collectives understood more than they let on. A fragment of intelligence lingered beneath those black voids where their eyes should have been. Both Soul Collectives weren’t aggressive, at least not yet. It was impossible to guess what they were thinking, especially with no faces to read expressions from.

One thing, though, Mioray knew for sure: the second Soul Collective had appeared after he mentioned the first one was behind Farah. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe it wasn’t.

With the mask covering his mouth, Mioray couldn’t warn Farah soundlessly, nor was he sure she could read lips. Instead, he flashed her a victory sign, hoping she would interpret it as “two.” Judging by the way her eyes widened and the color drained from her face, she got the message. Or maybe he was just fooled by the cold light of his phone’s flashlight, which made her look even paler. He was still impressed by how Farah hadn’t suffered burns from bathing in hot steam earlier and how her skin had retained a perfectly neutral tone.

He shook off the memory to stay focused. Farah was trying to communicate with him through sign language, but he just shrugged helplessly. He could recognize the “thanks” sign, but what good would that do now? Farah clicked her tongue in frustration, taking a deep, shaky breath.

She raised her hands, and for a second, Mioray thought she was about to sign something else. Instead, she connected her index fingers and then moved them downward, drawing a half-circle in the air with each one. Thin, flickering lines glowed in the dim, grim light, trailing behind her fingers. Mioray realized what she was doing. Farah was conjuring a portal to the realm between realms, planning to force both Soul Collectives inside.

But how? She wasn’t just going to grab them and push them in, was she?

Before she could complete the ellipse, both Soul Collectives rose higher, snapping out of their daze. Whether they sensed the portal being summoned or had caught on to Farah’s ploy, something had changed. Suddenly, they crashed into each other, merging like two pieces of dough. A blinding green flash erupted, followed by a powerful gust of wind that sent trash and dust flying in a chaotic whirlwind. Mioray and Farah were swept off their feet, their phones clattering to the floor.

Before Mioray could scramble to his feet, an eerie shriek shattered the silence. He looked up.

Where two Soul Collectives had stood moments ago, only one being remained. Its shape was different – twisted, monstrous. What had once resembled a white sheet with three holes, like a child’s ghost costume, had become a grotesque shell of its former self.

A round, black mass formed beneath the sheet, complete with arms and legs, each finger tipped with sharp claws. At the center of the dark mass, a mouth opened, wide and full of teeth, jagged like barbed wire. It now contained six, maybe eight souls, if Farah was right about its previous form harnessing no more than four. It was terrifying to imagine what it would look like with even more.

The new, intimidating Soul Collective grabbed Farah by her backpack and lifted her into the air. Its mouth stretched wider, enough to swallow an adult whole. Farah struggled, kicking and flailing, but her backpack’s straps trapped her, suspending her helplessly above the creature. She cursed furiously, but it did nothing. The Soul Collective barely noticed her resistance.

There was no time to think. Hesitation meant death, or worse. Mioray lunged forward, grabbing Farah by the foot and pulling with all his strength. The straps snapped. Farah tumbled onto him, knocking the face mask from his face and briefly blinding him. He shoved the mask away and pushed her off, quickly refocusing on the monster.

The Soul Collective didn’t seem to realize its prey had escaped. The creature still clutched Farah’s backpack as if nothing had changed. Then, without hesitation, it released the bag, letting it fall straight into its cavernous mouth.

With a sickening snap, its teeth clamped shut. The backpack and everything inside, including Farah’s headphones, was gone. The same thing had nearly happened to her.

“We’ve got to run!” Mioray hissed, yanking Farah to her feet.

Whether the Soul Collective had lost intelligence by absorbing more souls, or it simply wasn’t very bright to begin with, it was distracted enough to give them an opening. It was still chewing, making oddly satisfied noises, as if savoring its meal. Mioray doubted it had even noticed him rescuing Farah. All the better. While the creature was preoccupied, they could escape unnoticed.

“Let’s get outside and wait for the others!”

Farah didn’t argue. For a moment, Mioray had feared she would refuse. Her hair was disheveled, and she was panting hard, her breaths ragged and heavy, like an enraged bull flaring its nostrils at the sight of a red flag. Not that the color mattered. Bulls were colorblind, after all…

“What are you waiting for?!”

Farah had already sprinted ahead into the hallway, leaving Mioray alone in the living room with the Soul Collective. There was no need to repeat herself – Mioray bolted after Farah.

A high-pitched shriek tore through the air behind him. The sound was disorienting, slicing through his mind like a blade. It wasn’t painful, but it made him stumble, his coordination thrown off. Was the shriek somehow interfering with the soul controlling the body? He slammed into the wall as he reached the hallway but didn’t stop running. The exit was just ahead, beckoning with the glow of distant streetlamps and the crisp chill of night air.

Then came the heavy stomping, vibrations rippling viciously through the floor. Mioray didn’t need to look back to know the Soul Collective had finally caught on to their escape. Well, no matter. Once outside, it would be easier to outmaneuver it in open space. The creature didn’t strike him as particularly agile.

Or so he thought.

Because it wasn’t chasing them into the hallway at all.

Instead, a deafening crash rang out, followed by an explosion of dust and debris. The Soul Collective had rammed straight through the wall, tearing into the adjacent room – what used to be the kitchen.

It was cutting them off.

Mioray and Farah were halfway down the hallway when the wall to their left exploded outward, chunks of concrete scattering in front of them. The Soul Collective emerged, enraged, its barbed-wire teeth grinding together.

Farah fell to the floor, but she immediately started crawling backward. The ghostly remnant of the Soul Collective, still attached to its grotesque black mass, turned its three hollow gaps, what used to be eyes and mouth, toward them. It knew exactly what it was doing.

It had blocked their only escape route. On all fours, it lunged toward them.

"Back inside! Back inside!" Mioray shouted.

He grabbed Farah’s hand, yanking her up, and they bolted back toward the living room.

What now? His gaze darted frantically around the room. The windows were all boarded up and there was no time to pry them open. Any unnecessary action could mean their existence being erased.

The portal Farah had attempted to summon earlier was gone. Maybe it had disappeared when she was interrupted, or maybe it had a time limit. Still, their phone flashlights were scattered on the floor, illuminating the space just enough for Mioray to spot something useful. The staircase to his right. Narrow. Steep.

If they could get upstairs, the tight opening might make it difficult for the Soul Collective to follow. It was too large to simply smash through like it had with the walls. If nothing else, the stairs might slow it down.

"Can it phase through walls like it did when it hid in the house?" Mioray asked as they sprinted toward the staircase.

"I have no clue," Farah replied. "We’ve never seen a Soul Collective in this form. For all I know, the more souls it absorbs, the more physical it becomes."

God, he hoped that was true. Otherwise, they were screwed.

There was no other choice but to run. Again. Just like at the university. Nothing had changed. They needed to hide, but Mioray had no idea if it would work. There were too many unknowns when it came to the Soul Collective. What if it could sense them? Then hiding would be pointless. The layout of the second floor was a mystery, too. Maybe they could loop around, sneak past if the creature gave chase, and double back to the first floor, this time escaping for real.

Or maybe one of the windows upstairs was open. They could jump. What was the worst that could happen? A broken leg? Well, considering they healed faster now – thanks to being dead – that was a risk worth taking.

It all came down to luck.For all he knew, every door on the second floor could be locked. Maybe it led to a dead end. What if–

"Watch out!" Farah screamed.

The beast was faster than Mioray had hoped. They hadn’t even reached the top when it was already upon them, bounding forward in a series of monstrous leaps. Every impact cracked the walls and floorboards beneath its weight. It reached the stairs, and before they could react, it lashed out.

Its claws shot forward.

Farah gasped as sharp black talons plunged into her stomach.

Mioray tumbled into the upstairs corridor, rolling head over heels before scrambling onto his elbows. His heart pounded. The situation was dire. Once again, the Soul Collective had Farah in its grasp. But this time, there were no backpack straps to hold her in place. Just its claws, buried deep in her gut. Blood dripped from its fingers. Farah struggled, grasping at the claws and trying to push herself free, but her hands slipped uselessly. The Soul Collective opened its jaws wide, its mouth a void of endless darkness.

It was unfair. Why were all his enemies monsters with strength far beyond his own? Mioray lay there, watching helplessly as Farah was pulled closer to that cavernous maw.

Stand up! It was useless. What could he do? Do something!

This couldn’t be the end for her. Farah had said she didn’t want any of this – implying resurrection – but that didn’t mean she deserved this. No one did, to be swallowed and absorbed by a mindless monster. Mindless, not in the sense of lacking thought, but stripped of reason, running on raw, animalistic instinct despite being made of human souls.

Its shrieking sounded like the cries of the people already absorbed. A chorus of suffering. If Mioray did nothing, Farah would join them. He could see the green aura above her head flickering wildly, trying to escape the barbed-wire teeth closing in.

Do something. Anything!

Mioray thrust his arm forward. It was just like before, when he’d reached out in desperation at the university to save Juju from Impact Corpse, but that time it had happened purely by chance, by sheer luck. This time, he willed it. He intended for it to happen. Now wasn’t the time to doubt himself. Not after today’s training. He wouldn’t let Farah be absorbed by the Soul Collective without a fight.

His arm, still tethered to his body by black threads stretching out from his jacket’s sleeve, shot forward like a bullet. Farah grabbed it, quickly wrapping it under her chest. She held on tight. He held on tight. And then, he pulled.

Before today, Mioray didn’t even know this was possible. He could command his black threads like any part of his body. The threads responded, reeling in.

When they tightened, Mioray felt resistance, but it was working. His arm was dragging Farah’s body out of the monster’s claws. As soon as she loosened her grip on the claw inside her, the process sped up. The threads retracted faster, and with one final pull, Farah tumbled onto the floor near him. At the same time, his arm snapped back into place, fusing seamlessly to his shoulder.

It worked! Mioray let out a joyful cry, but it was no time for celebration yet. The Soul Collective shrieked, tearing through their minds like a jagged blade. It slammed a clawed foot onto the stairs, obliterating the steps to splinters.

Mioray tried to stand, but his limbs felt like lead. He wasn’t tired, exactly, but with every passing second, it got harder to move. Was he already at his limit? Damn it! Maybe if he’d taken an actual break during training, not counting the times when he was unconscious, he wouldn’t be this drained!

Still, without that training, he wouldn’t have been able to save Farah.

But what now? Wait here and let the Soul Collective devour them?

He turned to Farah. She was clutching her stomach, pressing her palm against the bloody hole left by the monster’s claw. The wound looked bad, but strangely, the blood wasn’t gushing the way it should have from an injury like that. Must have been the blood flow control Kevin had mentioned.. Unlike when Mioray had lost half his torso to Impact Corpse, there was no heavy bleeding.

“Hey.” He reached out, shaking Farah lightly. She lay still, eyes shut, her breathing steady but shallow. Was she in shock? “Farah, can you hear me? Are you alright?”

“Am I alright?!” she echoed, voice thick with irritation. Slowly, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, head barely staying upright. Her glassy eyes locked onto him, sharp with frustration. “Do I look alright to you?!”

Mioray hesitated. “I mean, it’s hard to say.” Frankly, she was fine enough to yell at him. “I get that you’re hurt, but you were just lying there, barely moving–”

“Because I’m focusing on not bleeding out, you dumbass!”

Yep. That was Farah, alright.

“Why are you mad at me? You should be thanking me! I just saved you!”

“I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at it!” she barked, nodding toward the Soul Collective.

The monster had paused after demolishing the stairs. Its hollow sockets were fixated on them, watching from the wreckage below, its barbed-wire teeth grinding together. It stomped impatiently, rattling the remains of the house. It wasn’t going to let them go, was it?

“Look what it did to my clothes!” Farah groaned, glaring down at herself, as if that was the real tragedy here. “They’re completely ruined! Now I have to buy another coat – and a tank top – all because of this son of a bitch!”

Mioray wasn’t sure if the Soul Collective could understand insults, but it responded anyway, licking its nonexistent lips. A thick, red tongue slithered out from the abyss of its mouth, its grotesque veins pulsing. Acid-green saliva dripped onto the wreckage below. It didn’t seem to burn through anything, but Mioray had no intention of testing what it did to flesh.

“That’s your concern?!” His own irritation flared to match Farah’s. Maybe it was contagious. Maybe it was the frustration of knowing the Soul Collective wasn’t going to stop, while they were already running on fumes. “If you don’t want to spend your hard-earned money, take some of Terry’s! Call it compensation for the damages!”

“Maybe I will!” Farah snapped back. “But we need to get out of here first! What are you waiting for? Use your ability and do something about that son of a bitch!”

Below them, the Soul Collective lunged, throwing its full weight into the gap between floors. Too big to fit, but that didn’t stop it from trying. The house groaned under the strain, walls cracking from the force. The floor beneath them fractured, spreading toward where they lay.

“What do you want me to do?!” Mioray yelled. Instead of moving, which would’ve been the smart thing to do, he just kept arguing with Farah. “You think me slapping it is gonna help?!”

“Are you an idiot?!”

Now they were just screaming at each other while a literal nightmare monster was breaking the house apart beneath them.

“You think we’re in any condition to fight?!” Farah continued yelling. “Can’t you just, I don't know, launch your arm, grab something, and pull us away before the floor collapses?!”

Mioray opened his mouth, then hesitated. Wait… could I?

“…Maybe? I’ve never tried.”

Actually, that was a solid idea. The only problem was, he wasn’t sure he had the energy left for it. He could barely sit upright. He just needed time. A couple of minutes. Just enough to recharge.

He looked at Farah. “Why don’t you use your ability to help us?”

“Because I hate using it!” she blurted out. “And if you haven’t noticed, I’m a little busy not bleeding out! I can’t control my blood flow and use my ability at the same time!”

Okay, fair point. Somehow, even while furious, Farah still made sense. If she passed out from blood loss, her ability would be useless anyway. Mioray was in the same position – he just needed time.

If only the Soul Collective would wait for him to regain his energy. Wouldn’t that be great? They were helping it pass on, after all. A little cooperation wouldn’t kill it. Too bad it didn’t seem interested.

With another shriek, the Soul Collective jumped and rammed its claws into the walls, dragging its body into the crumbling opening. The ceiling fractured. The floor beneath them splintered, revealing the wreckage of the living room below.

The monster wasn’t stopping. It was brute-forcing its way through, demolishing everything in its path. The walls collapsed, chunks of debris raining down. Mioray and Farah scrambled deeper into the corridor, but the monster’s shrieking still razor-sharp and mind-numbing made it impossible to focus.

The distance between them and the Soul Collective was vanishing fast.