The Soul Eaters (The Thin Hex Line Book 1) by Gwyndolyn Russell (100 best novels of all time .txt) 📗

Maybe he didn't know the word. His English was poor, after all.

"Explain what you mean."

He was quiet. I thought he had gotten up and left. When I opened my mouth to make sure he was still there, he replied.

"Pup fought for survival. Always fight."

"You and me both."

"Humans live well? Lives here… boring." His voice faded into that guttural growl. Almost thought he was angry.

"Most do. Good parents who care. Good lives doing what they want. I wasn't that lucky. Never knew my parents. Left me on the side of the street on Mars. Never came back. Had to fight and steal to stay alive. Wasn't the only one. A lot of orphans on Mars. Place is only good for mining and a lot of people die in the mines. I didn't want to keep living like trash, so as soon as I was old enough I enlisted." I gave a shrug.

"Humans choose fight?"

"Yeah. Not everyone is cut out for it."

"Fenris... fought, stole as pup. Others stole from. Starved. Stepped on."

I pictured a wolf pup abused. Something I've actually seen before. Pups on the street were hated. Seen as food.

"Sibling attacked Fenris." He growled. "Death imminent. Ate sibling to survive. Fenris’ hunger never… sated."

I didn't know what to say. I wasn't prepared for such a spiel. He usually gave quick answers that felt more cryptic than not. The way he spoke gave way to the hidden pain. I could hear it through the shifting tones of his voice.

"Fenris…." I leaned over my knees as if he were right there.

"Must confess!" He said sharply. "Fenris ate them…. Hungry…."

The hair stood up on the back of my neck. The realization hit like a brick to the chest. I was speechless. Every fiber in my being wanted to hate him. To yell at him. Call him a piece of shit. Heartless. Insensitive. A monster. Humans don't eat the dead. We don't cannibalize. Our dead are buried. Sent out into space in a coffin. We hold celebrations of the lives they lived. We mourn their loss. We don't eat them.

Yet somehow, I saw Fenris as that big, black wolf sitting there in front of me. With that pitiful, guilty look in his eyes. Tail tucked between his legs. The regret of succumbing to a natural instinct. Hunger changed people. Hunger made us do crazy things. This wolf looking up at me with those red eyes, the only thing I could see in the darkness that enveloped my very soul, knew it had done wrong. Knew there would be consequences. Just like a good dog, it sat there, unable to disguise its shame and await its punishment.

I couldn't be mad. I couldn't even be disappointed. What came to my head was sincere concern. How long did he starve before he could not control himself? How often did he starve?

The pieces fell into place. The missing panel pieces. The missing pets. Fenris was the cause! He was eating them! That's why the claw marks.

"The missing things and pets...you ate them, too?" I barely got the words out.

"Seemed... moot."

I took a deep, slow breath.

"Fenris---" he cut me off before I even finished thinking that thought.

"Fenris leave." He said it as if he tried to take the words out of my mouth.

"No." I shook my head. Christ, I wish I could see his face. "That's not what I was going to say."

He was quiet now.

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Utopia…"

"Jesus Christ, Fenris, that was two months ago!"

I put the glass of whiskey down. Or I tried to. I felt it slip out of my fingers, taken by an invisible current.

“Don’t tell anyone.” I told him. “Not a word. I’ll talk to Reaper.”

SEVENTEEN

Sparrow dropped her food tray on the table. She plopped down into the seat and put a hand over it to keep it from floating away. With a sigh, she pressed her other hand into her face. The barracks cafeteria was large enough to accommodate the entire security force at one time, and it was packed. Most seats were taken, filled with the chatter of the latest events. Nonsense about their current jobs, how much it sucked, how they hoped to be on the move again. Sparrow agreed. She had little time to train. Little time to rest. Not to mention being put in a field far out of her league.

"You look beat." Mjolnir sat down across from her.

She groaned, looking up at him. "You would be, too, if you were working with those damned rodents."

Mjolnir laughed. "It's best to stay out of their way when they're stressed."

"Are all of them jackasses?"

"Don't think I've met a nice one." He opened his main course of the night, a packet labeled in ardrizian. "I haven't met many. Ardrizi are too big and clumsy to be around their burrows."

"Clumsy? Maybe in looks." She grinned.

"Females prefer a scruffier look." Mjolnir returned the grin with one of his own. "What's the word on the repairs?"

Sparrow bothered to open one of her packets. Chicken alfredo, her favorite.

"They just tell me 'it's done when it's done'!"

"Not much luck then." Mjolnir huffed.

"They're just a bunch of jerks."

"Have you heard the word as of late? Odd things. Sightings of a monster. People missing."

"I've heard some things. I think it's paranoia. We're stuck out here and lost. They may just be seeing that thing… Er, Fenris walking around."

"It's possible, but I believe Jackal has locked himself in his room due to his injury. Fenris has been with him as far as I know. I haven't been able to contact either of them."

"You think Fenris really ate those people?"

"What? I'm not sure. He seems to care about life. He makes my hair stand on end."

"Mine, too." She gently pressed the velcro slabs together once she was done eating. "Jackal likes him, so I can't imagine he's too bad. Not a monster."

"I could go for some exercise. Would you like to join me?"

"Anything to avoid going back to those kotoli."

"I'm telling you that thing did it."