Soulfeeder

‘I’m afraid she will not make it through the night.’ The doctor said, ‘Her fever is worsening. It’s best to prepare for the worst. 

‘No–please there must be something else we can do. She’s all I have in this world. There must be another way.’

‘There is nothing within my power that I can do. I will return in the morning to collect her body. We must burn her to prevent the spread of infection.’

‘You’re a monster. I will not let you take her. I will find a way.’

The doctor left through the front door and left the man with his daughter. We threw his arms over her and wept.

‘Please, Sophia. Please.’

The little girl clung onto a beat up doll, her face wincing with pain. 

‘Father…’ she whispered weakly, ‘It’s so cold.’

‘Shhh, my love. Do not speak–I–I’ll prepare some tea.’

‘Take her,’ she said, handing him the doll, ‘I don’t want her to get sick too.’

‘Yes, dear, I will. Now rest, save your strength.’

The man made his way through the simple home to the kitchen. But he found that there were no tea leaves or herbs in his cabinet. He looked back to his daughter.

‘No flowers,’ he whispered to himself.

He grabbed his cloak and threw it over his shoulders.

‘Sophia, my love. I will be back as soon as I can. I promise.’

–

With lantern in hand, the man scurried into the night, his cloak flapping in the howling wind. He pressed into the woods where he knew a patch of chamomile flowers were. Frantically he stripped them from their stems and placed them into a small basket. 

‘That should be enough,’ he said to himself, ‘It has to be.’

A howl from a wolf echoed in the distance. The man turned in fear but only saw darkness. He looked up at the sliver of the moon and spun back into the direction of his home. 

He hurriedly made his way back down the path he came but in his haste, tripped over a raised root. The basket fell from his hands, spilling the flowers onto the ground. They blew in the wind back into the darkness of the forest. 

‘No no no NO!’ he exclaimed, clawing at the flowers.

The wind came to a sudden halt. The man still crawling in the dirt found himself at the feet of a figure. Startled, he shuffled backwards in fear. 

The man looked up and saw a woman. Her presence felt almost familiar to him–a warm feeling in the cold of night. She floated a few feet off the ground dressed in a white cloak. Her face was as pale as the moon. His throat seized up in awe; he could not find the strength to speak.

‘You seek salvation.’ She said, her voice powerful and deep. Its sound carried in the now quiet forest. 

‘Ye–Yes. My daughter–she has a sickness. Please, I need the flowers. They are meant to calm her fever.’

‘She can be saved, but not through the methods of men.’

‘I will do anything! Please, save my Sophia.’

The corners of the woman’s face curled into a subtle smile. She extended her hand out to the man.

‘To save a soul one must deliver another.’

The man’s face turned to fear. He was backed into a corner. Surely this deal meant his life for hers. But then he had a thought.

‘The doctor! Please take him.’

The sorceress stared deep into the man’s eyes. For a moment, the man thought he’d made a grave mistake. 

‘Very well.’ She replied.

The man found himself consumed in a white light. When he opened his eyes, he was back home, sleeping in bed next to his daughter.

‘Morning? It was a dream? Sophia–my love, are you all right?’

The man placed his hand on Sophia’s shoulder and saw the once tattered doll now transformed into a replica of the sorceress tight in her grasp. He gently nudged her, hoping that she would be revived, but found that her body was cold. 

‘Sophia?’ He held her in his arms crying. Then he heard a knock at the door. 

The doctor entered without invitation, the black eyes of his bird mask stared deeply into the eyes of the man. He was followed by two massive cloaked men. 

‘I’ve come to collect the body–she must be burned immediately to prevent the spread of infection.’

‘No–I will not let you take her–GET OUT!’

‘Take her,’ ushered the doctor.

The men moved to take Sophia. The man buried his face in her lap. 

‘Please Sophia, please!’ 

The doll, still in her hand, began to glow. Sophia’s limp body lifted off the bed and floated into the air. The man shuffled back into the corner of his house terrified at the sight. The doctor and his men froze in fear. Sophia’s body twisted and warped, the sound of her bones cracking echoed in the home. The doctor’s accomplices fled for the door yelling in fear.

The glow from the doll engulfed the home, blinding the man and the doctor. When the man’s vision returned, he saw his daughter hunched over the doctor.

‘Sophia?’ he called softly. But he knew it was not his daughter he was looking at.

He could barely recognize her: black oozed out of her eyes, nose and mouth. Her teeth and nails sharpened to a point. She let out a high pitched scream to the heavens before drawing her attention back to the doctor laid on his back. Her movements quick and twitchy as she positioned her face over his. 

Sophia opened her mouth wide and began to wail as she inhaled. A wispy white essence emerged through the holes of the doctor’s mask–the payment that had been promised to the witch. As the doctor’s soul left his body, his innards shriveled up, his clothes fell limp, flat against the floor. When she finished, only his skin remained, dried to a brittle crisp. 

–

Some say her father died from fear, others say from heartbreak. Some argue that he went back into the woods in search of the witch, still looking to save his little girl.