Secondhand Souls (Grim Reaper 2)

“Steve! Steve! Steve!” chanted the crowd.

“No, you dumbfucks!” shouted Theeb, although he didn’t look as sure of himself as when he had started.

“You are not one of us. You are not one of the ­People. You are incomplete.” He pointed to the little light in his own chest, then at the enormous pile of things that were red. “You are missing something!”

“Need a cheez,” said Wiggly Charlie.

“Need a cheez! Need a cheez! Need a cheez!” chanted the ­People.

Theeb bellowed, “She gave us hideous form, and no memory, but now we have memory.”

“Need a cheez! Need a cheez! Need a cheez!”

“Shut up!” shouted Theeb, and the crowd did.

“She gave us no voices, but the new ­People have voices!”

“Need a cheez! Need a cheez! Need a cheez!”

“She gave us no lips. But we have grown lips!” said Theeb.

“Lips! Lips! Lips!” the ­People chanted.

“Lips,” said Wiggly Charlie, handing Theeb his enormous dong, which Theeb the Wise wisely let drop to the ground.

“Sure, you have that, because you are her favorite, but you have no soul.”

“Lips,” said Wiggly Charlie.

“We were ­people, and she trapped us in these hideous creatures, but we have her books, and using them we have become more. There will be more of us. Thousands of us! And the ­People shall all have voices! All shall have lips! So sayeth Theeb the Wise!”

“Steve the Wise! Steve the Wise! Steve the Wise!” everyone, including Wiggly Charlie, chanted.

Theeb the Wise

was not pleased, for he was pretty sure his name as a human had been Theeb, not Steve, but then, Steve really did make quite a bit more sense, didn’t it? Now he was angry.

“Guards!” called Theeb, possibly Steve, previously Bob.

Four of the ­People, all wearing the new colored cotton outfits that Audrey had sewn, came out from behind all the soul vessels. Each carried a different weapon, a knife, a hatchet, a sickle, and a screwdriver, although not a spork, for the Spork of Power was reserved only for Theeb the Wise. Each also wore a little belt, more crudely fashioned than their clothes, and tucked in it were canisters of pepper spray.

“Seize him!” said Theeb.

“Seize him! Seize him! Seize him!” chanted the ­People.

“You don’t have to chant that!” shouted Theeb, and they pretty much fell silent but for a few stragglers, who were still working the “lips” chant and were behind.

The guards took Wiggly Charlie by the arms and he let them, asking each of them if they might have a mozzarella stick handy, using the traditional “need a cheez” phrase.

“You, her soulless minion, have been sent to us as a sign, Charlie ­Asher. We will take Audrey’s soul, and put it in your soulless body, so she, too, will know what it is to be trapped in a hideous little creature!” Theeb waved his spork maniacally and laughed.

Wiggly Charlie struggled, and two more guards came and grabbed his feet. Audrey gave him cheezes and had boobies and other parts that made him sleepy. He didn’t want them to hurt her.

“Take him away,” said Theeb. “Tie him up, and prepare to seize the heretic maker, Audrey!”

“Tie him up! Tie him up! Tie him up!” chanted the ­people, although to be honest, most of them weren’t sure what was going on. The guards dragged Wiggly Charlie out of the big round room.

“Mon Dieu!” said the cat person called Helen, who was still at the top of the stairs. She hurried off the other way to the passageway that led out under the porch.