“But something was rising from it. Moker’s soul was taking its leave.Moker’s black soul, it was like the darkest shadow among other shadows.The vanishing ghosts opposite drew back, my father’s among them. Their fading images were fearful and some seemed to shrink before the rising darkness. Their alarm was contagious and I took a step backwards myself, reluctant to be close to the thing on the floor. The atmosphere became full of weight, full of foreboding, and there was a pre-thunderstorm charg...e in the air. I heard faint whisperings from the ghosts as they gradually fled the scene and I sensed their revulsion of this malign animus that was the very essence of Moker himself.It was a sickly thing, foul and murky, like the stagnant waters of a deep, forgotten well. It appeared to rage within itself; yet it cowered also, as if it knew its own malevolence was beyond redemption and its fate was beyond all contrition. For the first time I understood what was meant by “a lost soul”.The sludgy darkness continued to rise from the dead body, the vague shapes beyond it almost gone, only their low whispering remaining.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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