*

Burning and the smell of death, and a pain so dreadful, draws my new body sharp and awake.

As well, me with it…

Instantly, I recoil, fighting the urge to abandon my prize, and force myself back into the dead body. Pain dulls, gradually, and my essence fills the vessel again, enough for me to take a first breath. To open human eyes, for the first time in a long time, to see.

All around is carnage, flames, and the bodies of the fallen. The bus lies on its side. Several passengers are twisted or trapped, flung into far corners. Some are dead, some are barely alive, all are un-moving.

I move or try to, but my new body is slow and restricted, struggling for air against so much smoke spilling into the ruined interior. My body jerks and i’m coughing so hard my hand comes away smothered in blood. I run my hand over the body, feeling where it hurts for injury or malaise, and my fingers brush the tip of it. Something holding me in place. In the dim light, I make out a shard of metal protruding out from a ragged hole in my chest, pinning me in place like a fly in a web. Strangely, it doesn’t hurt much, not as much as the overall pain that wracked my body when I woke. Not as much I thought it would. Though, I’m not sure if it should hurt. 

Technically, this body’s dead. And as well… it’s not mine.

The bus – I think humans call it – was flipped and crushed. And in the chaos, I took a body. I don’t know whose. There was no time to be picky. Not when the veil was lifted and only seconds and souls mattered. But I remember debris from the bridge and other asunder, flying through the carriage, as the bus smashed into an oncoming truck. I saw it splinter, and pierce her heart, forcing her soul to depart. She was the only one; not too old, dying but not yet dead. I needed a body, so I took it, without a second thought.

There’s so much blood.

I smell it all over the bus, above the smoke and rancid stench of rotting. I smell it over my new body, not fresh, or pumping, but stagnant, soaked into skin and clothes. My hands, human hands, are stained with it, cut and bruised, blackened with fired ash. I close my fingers and then open them; feeling muscle and bone beneath the skin push and pull.

I’ve missed this, the power of flesh and blood as my own.

There was a time before, eons before, when I was human. I remember. All Asura (or Angels as the humans call us) were human once. Before we evolved and passed into the ethereal plane. Even if this body is fragile and weak compared to my naked spirit, with it I can touch and taste the human world. I’ve longed for this. I’ve imagined what it would feel like, to be mortal again. I want to see what this body can do. I want to try everything.

But now, there is no time.

I need to be gone before the wreck is discovered. They will be here soon. 

To claim the dead.

Muscles, weak from loss of blood, move sluggish and almost too slow, as I reach for the end of the metal in my chest. I need to take it out, if this body is to heal. If it can heal.  There’s a small worry, gnawing at the back of my mind, that it might not. Thoughts raging through my new human mind urge me to move faster. I’ve never been this slow.

After a few tries, with so much effort on my part, I grip the end of it. Tenuously, with teeth gritted, it takes forever to wrench the shaft from the raw and ragged hole and unpin myself. The movement makes my chest ache and my lungs rasp. I’m struggling to breathe again. The shaft slides out, faltering in my hand, and I let it fall to the floor – too slick to hold, smeared with blood and other things. Winded. Soaked with sweat and thoroughly exhausted. I wait to catch my breath. Listening only to my body pant in exertion in the eerie dark of the bus alone.

Not everyone is dead. My virtuous senses haven’t left me yet. At least three are still breathing. At least three will draw Them in. I need to move. I need to be gone, now.

But nothing is happening. I’m not healing.

I have no heartbeat, yet.

I pull my neck up, ignoring the stiffness, and look down at the hole in my chest. The metal must have pushed some material into it. It takes me several tries to reach around the belt and tug the torn fabric caught inside the damaged edges. A little tepid blood oozes out leaving me weaker, colder even. Finally, faintly, my body starts to glow. Copper light, my power, knits the soft tissue and sinew back together, healing the wound. A sigh of relief escapes my lips. I close my eyes.

I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know if it would actually work.

This is the first time I’ve taken a body.

The beat of my heart restarting is loud, jolting me out of coma and unconsciousness. I drag myself from the lull of sleep and look around. Skittering shadows creep across the gloom of the interior, making me shiver. Night is falling. They will be here soon. I don’t have much power left. And with this body still new, it's ripe for another soul to take. 

I’m an easy target. I need to move.

I fiddle with the clasp the belt holding me trapped, for a few seconds, with weak fingers not quite working the way I want them to. The belt is tight and held fast, strapping me in sideways, legs dangling to the earth. But I can do this. Move or lose it all here there is nothing in between.

It flies open with a snap.

But I’m not quite ready for it and land on the boy jammed into the seat next to me, scraping against the side of the bus crumpled into the concrete. My limbs are living jelly defying direction, as I scramble to right myself. 

He groans beneath me.

He’s alive...

Of course he is. Otherwise, I’d have taken his body. Male or female, it’s all the same. Asuras don’t care for gender; we may have been human before, but we’ve been every kind of human, rebirthed through many, many cycles. If anything, we prefer those who are stronger. And usually, male bodies can handle more of our light.

This one, the boy, feels a lot stronger. I can feel it as I end up kneading his chest, to right myself. 

I could kill him, take his body, but I’ll have to do it soon before They come. And They will come. The Lost Dead.

We’re a tasty meal, all laid out here.

I sit myself back off the boy, sliding onto my backside, crunching glass where my feet scrabble. This body is light, too light. It should be easy to manipulate though, once I get used to it. It takes less than seconds to do that. 

I find my feet, and huddle over in the small space between the broken partition and my prey. With one knee bent, I lean in look at him properly. The boy has a pretty face, for a human. He’s also broader, firmer than this soft frame. His body would be better, for my purpose here, for sure.

I want it.

He groans again, as I watch him, not quite waking. There’s blood leaking down one side of his head but I’m not worried. His light is strong. He will live, for now. I reach out to touch, to run fingers in the crimson lines, adding to his appeal. They come away sticky and warm. And super sweet.

I have an urge to taste it.

~What are you doing!? Stop that! ~

I stop. For a moment I believe it’s the boy who’s speaking to me. Did I wake him? No, he’s still out cold, head unsupported and lolling to the side.

Someone else is here.

Someone who wants him too.

***

Author's Note -

Apologies for the delay in getting this first chapter up! This month has been crazy busy and I've been ill again. 

Thanks to everyone who subscribed so far on just a prologue!

And special thanks to Nana for her permission to use her beautiful art for my covers. She is amazing! Check her out at https://www.deviantart.com/nakanoart

Hope you like the first chapter! ^^

Love and donuts!

Lis xx