The Seeker of the Soul

The brick corner was just ahead and he knew the moment he turned it he would be on a path he could not turn back from. Silently he turned the corner and saw his victim, she was barely five years old. He thought back to the moment he had agreed to this job, the moment he’d bargained for knowledge that a mortal was not meant to have. His goddess had her price and he was willing to pay it; he just wasn’t sure he was willing to collect it.

Lazvon braced himself as he approached the youngster playing in the stoop of her building. His dagger fell into his hand from deep within his sleeve and he stepped by the girl, smiling and nodding at her mother. The distracted mother didn’t even notice her daughter’s silent, wide eyed final stare as she slumped against the wall.

Lazvon continued for several seconds until he heard the horror filled scream as he cleaned his soul filled knife. Yes, his divine mistress would be very pleased indeed. As for Lazvon, the corner had been turned and he lusted for more.

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