Chapter 4: Old Rules and New Enemies

I haven’t been in this world long, but I’ve eaten at least eight thousand evil spirits and dark creatures. Maybe more, if you count the ones that barely put up a fight.

Plenty of those creeps liked to snatch children. Small towns always have their stories, but I knew which ones were real.

Just last year, a shadow puppet troupe rolled into town. Every night, they put on a show by the old iron bridge, crowds gathering with popcorn and lawn chairs. One of the puppets—a worn-out hide shaped like a hunched old woman—had turned into something else. Folks called her Shadow Granny, though nobody really knew why. She’d started plucking out the eyes of kids in the front row, leaving them with nothing but black, empty sockets. The whole town was in a panic for weeks—parents pulled their kids inside at dusk, and cops set up roadblocks at every corner.

Everyone got searched—jackets, backpacks, even lunchboxes. But nobody thought to check the puppets themselves. Some kids said if you looked her in the eye, you’d see your own face in the puppet’s mouth.

That night, I was starving, crouched under the bridge hoping the river raccoon would show up with leftovers, when I saw her slide into the puppet screen, eying a kid who’d fallen asleep in the grass. I pounced, chewing through her like old leather soaked in gasoline. I swear, my mouth tasted like burnt rubber for days.

And that wasn’t the weirdest thing I’d faced. Back in the day, there were these haunted candle wicks that twisted into ghosts. At midnight, if a child was still awake, the candle’s shadow would stretch and bend, eventually swallowing the kid’s own shadow. Children without shadows became terrified of light and wind, forced to hide out in dark, windowless basements. Took me ages to hunt that thing down, but I got it in the end.

"Great Spirit, Great Spirit, please say something..." Mr. Harrison’s voice broke through my memories. He’d been silent so long, eyes rimmed red, like he was about to beg me on his knees.

I almost forgot—you eat someone’s turkey, you’re family—at least until the leftovers are gone. The weight of their hope pressed on me, heavier than the hunger in my gut.

Mr. Harrison dabbed his eyes, voice raw: "That old woman can’t be found anymore. How can we get Ellie’s spirit back?"

I hopped back onto the table, gnawing on what was left of the turkey leg. "That’s nothing to worry about. People have three souls and seven fragments. The Heavenly Soul, Inner Light, is the root of life; the Earth Soul, Dark Essence, governs desires; the Human Soul, Bright Spirit, rules wisdom. Ellie lost her Human and Earth souls, which is why she’s unconscious."

I licked my paw, letting the information settle. "But the soul-stealing chain has already been broken by me. As long as the remaining Heavenly Soul is preserved, Ellie won’t be in mortal danger for now."

"However..."

Mr. Harrison’s shoulders started to relax, but I cut him off before he could even think about celebrating:

"With three souls incomplete and seven fragments unstable—especially with the protective Watchdog fragment missing—"

"At this time, a person is like a house with its doors wide open and gold and jewels inside—anyone can come and take them."

"When I leave, evil spirits in the area will harass her at any time. You need something to replace the Watchdog fragment to guard Ellie."

The room was silent except for the ticking of an old wall clock, everyone realizing just how dangerous the night ahead might be.