The Lost Soul
The rain fell in thick sheets, drenching the empty streets as if the sky itself mourned. Daniel staggered forward, his breath ragged, his body aching. His hands, slick with something warm and wet, trembled as he looked down. Blood. His own? Someone else's? He couldn't remember. His mind was a blur of shattered memories, echoes of pain, and a suffocating sense of loss.
Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed. He turned into an alley, pressing himself against the cold bricks, his heart pounding like a dying drum. He tried to think, to piece together how he'd gotten here, but the only thing clear was the weight in his chest—the kind of weight that crushed a man’s soul long before death came for his body.
Then he saw her.
A figure standing at the alley’s mouth. Not a cop. Not a stranger. Someone he knew. Someone he had loved.
“Lena?” His voice cracked, barely audible over the rain.
She stepped forward, her face pale, her eyes hollow. The same eyes that used to light up when she laughed. The same lips that once whispered secrets in the dark. Now, she was a ghost in the flesh.
“You left me,” she said, her voice soft but accusing.
Daniel felt his legs go weak. “I didn’t—”
But he had.
He left her that night. He slammed the door. He drove off, drunk on anger and cheap whiskey. He ignored the calls. Ignored the messages. And by the time he stumbled back home, she was gone. Not just from the apartment. Not just from his life.
From existence.
They found her body in the river a week later. Suicide, they said. But Daniel knew the truth—he had killed her in a different way. He had killed her when he walked away.
And now, she was here.
His breath hitched as Lena moved closer. Her wet hair clung to her face, her dress stained dark with river water. She reached for him, her fingers grazing his wrist, and suddenly, the pain in his side flared, sharp and unbearable. He gasped, looking down.
A deep gash in his stomach.
He remembered now. The bar fight. The knife. The way his body folded as the blade sank in. The warmth of his own life spilling out into the street.
His vision blurred. The alley stretched, twisted. Lena's face filled his world, her expression unreadable.
"Come with me," she whispered.
Daniel exhaled one final breath. The rain slowed. The sirens faded. And as the world went dark, all he saw was her outstretched hand, waiting to lead him where lost souls go.