House of Trials - Save the Dogs

Hello Readers!

First and foremost, I would like to thank you for checking out my series Soul Exchange House of Trials. This series follows Eliza's "adventure" as the Celestial Council's Director. You may also find that this series would refer back to Soul Exchange Case Files. Don't worry! I would also put a hyperlink that would lead you to the related Case File Issue Number.

P.S. this is the second issue of this series. If you have not read the first issue yet, click here.

Warning: this chapter contains very mature themes. Reader discretion is HIGHLY advised.

Eliza entered her bathroom and sighed.

The usual bare, white-tiled bathroom was immaculately decorated with plants, candles, an essential oil diffuser, and other bathroom stock items that Eliza never thought of buying herself. The tub was already filled with hot water, and different colored soap flowers floated on top. Before she called Mona to ask, she noticed a note on top of the folded clothes that sat on the chair. She read it with a smile on her face.

Eliza was unsure when had Mona managed to arrange such a thing, considering that she had already taken it upon herself to shoulder most of Eliza’s work for the week. But even then, the Immortal still managed to teleport herself to her home to take care of everything.

Mona was right. Eliza did not deserve her and she should put more effort into showing her appreciation—starting with forcing Mona to go on a long and paid vacation.

She stripped off her bathrobe, exposing the scars that decorated her body. The most prominent scars were on her back, where her wings used to be, and from the whippings that she received when she was captured by an enemy. She also had a silver scar that ran from her left wrist to her collarbone—a reminder of why she should never keep her eyes away from an enemy since she almost lost an arm that day.

She used to despise the scars, but as she got older, she no longer saw them as mistakes that marred her beauty. They were now trophies of her strength, experience, and endurance. Her scars told a story that she would never be able to explain to another soul. So, she wore them proudly and never let anyone else tell her that she was lesser for having them.

Following Mona’s instructions, she stepped into the tub and relaxed. It had been a hectic week since, after Mikhail’s not-so-useful letter, she had been running around the city to collect more information about her mission. Only to find out seven days later, all thanks to Mona (who she should have asked first from the very beginning), that all she had to do was fully submerge herself in the tub to transport herself to the Otherworld. The only downside was that she didn’t get to bring any of her items from Earth other than the silver halo around her left wrist and going without her silver blade made her feel more vulnerable than being naked.

Yet, as soon as she memorized everything in her bathroom, she closed her eyes, cleared her mind, took three large breaths, and submerged herself. She listened to her watch on the sink and after two minutes had passed, her lungs began to scream for air.

But she remained still and kept her focus on the sound of the clock. She reminded herself that all she just had to do was wait for it to stop. She knew that she never was a strong swimmer but she willed herself to stay in the water longer than she could.

Tick.

She ground her teeth and dug her nails into her palm.

Tock.

A breath accidentally escaped from her lips and she lost whatever oxygen she had. Was it possible that the time went slower than it should?

Tick.

Her muscles twitched, aching to rise.

Tock.

Her eyelids flew open, and her eyes burned from the salt. She tried to rise but a heavy force pinned her to the bottom.

Tick.

Panicking, she squirmed and struggled. But the invisible force pushed back, even pinning her arms to the bottom of the tub.

To—

Eliza rose as she loudly gasped for air. Her hands gripped the sides of the tub as she heaved. Her dark hair stuck to her face, and the air’s chill made her shiver. Once she was calm enough, she looked around and saw that she was still in her bathroom. The only difference was that there were new clothes folded on the chair with a note on top written in blood:

Wear this and come out when you’re done. Further instructions will be given then.

Without wasting any more time, Eliza got up and grabbed a towel to dry herself—only to notice that a body that was identical to her was still submerged in the tub. Its glossy obsidian eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling, and its lips were slightly parted. Eliza stepped back and took a deep breath to calm herself. She had expected this to happen but seeing her body still unnerved her. Tearing her eyes away from it, she looked at the watch on the sink instead and confirmed that she retained when the arms have stopped moving.

Then she did what she had to do. She dried herself, wore the all-black jumpsuit paired with a black hoodie, as instructed, quickly combed back her short hair with her fingers, and left the bathroom without looking back.

As soon as she stepped out, the door behind her vanished and she was instantly transported to a gymnasium full of people and creatures that wore the same black jumpsuit. Unlike her, however, some have sustained an injury or were bleeding heavily. The light in their eyes had faded as if they had gone through some traumatic events. No one else had noticed her immediate presence except for the small black puppy on her right, which had its left hindleg broken and its left eye wounded; and a rather tall and lean man on her left who acknowledged her presence with a nod. Like her, he looked immaculate, as if he had just stepped into the room. However, before she could approach him, the puppy weakly caught her right pant leg as it tried to hold her back.

Save the dogs. You’ll know which and when. She recalled as she stared at its wide red eyes. Carefully, she squatted down and offered her hand. But the puppy immediately let go of her pant leg and scurried away from her. When it accidentally stepped on its injured leg, it shrieked as tears dripped from its eyes.

“It’s okay,” she assured. “I won’t hurt you.”

The puppy hesitated but after a few minutes, it sniffed her hand to let her pick it up. It was almost as big as her hand and it weighed no more than a feather.

“Oh, you’re a baby boy.” Eliza tried to keep her tone light. “Do you have a name?”

The puppy only stared at her.

“Would you like me to give you one?”

It licked her hand weakly as it tried to nestle closer to her. “Okay, I’m not that creative with names, but I will name you Spot since you got a small white spot on your forehead. Is that okay?”

The puppy only gave a soft sigh as it closed its eyes. She drew her magick to her fingertips to heal its injuries but the tall man snatched her wrist away.

“I would not do that yet. Not when everyone is around to witness you here.” He spoke lowly to her ear, and when she looked up, his amber hooded eyes met hers. He had dark curly hair, mocha skin, and a strong jawline. He towered over her like a wall and she would be lying if she said that she didn’t feel intimidated. “Do you want everyone to ask you to heal them until you are drained of life?”

Her memory clicked as she recalled who he was. He was a fallen like her, and although he was deemed to serve the Council until the redemption day, he and his twin sister were never given a chance to belong to any of the Houses for protection. The Council had also taken away their past memories and their ability to realize their true Celestial forms. Uriel used to watch over the orphans despite the Council’s disapproval. But now she was gone. And the Council had turned the twins into the best Venatoribus—Hunters, that the world had ever seen. She knew about them since as a Director, It was her job to keep tabs on which Immortals resided in her territory.

“You’re—” she said but he put up a finger to his lips.

“No real names here unless you want your identity stolen.” He held up his right wrist and pointed at the cuff, “in here, I’m AN10.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Eliza looked at hers as well. The stitching was so small that it was no wonder that she missed it. “L69.”

He chuckled lowly.

“Oh, real mature.” She rolled her eyes but found herself smirking as well. “Guess this place has a sense of humor.”

But her amusement soon died as she observed everything around her a little more. The fluorescent lights above them flickered and rang with loud static. The yellow walls dripped with green fluid and black mold covered the ceiling. Speakers were propped up just above the big ebony doors in front of them and shadowy entities danced in the corners, circling the crowd, waiting for one of them to drop dead so it could consume its soul. Before she could ask AN10 where they were, the speakers blared with a deafening high frequency which had them all groaning and covering their ears.

“Hello.” A male robotic voice said as the frequency died down. “Welcome to Ground Six. I am very proud of those who had made it through the levels…especially from Ground 0. I’m sure you all know that there are a lot less of you from when you have begun. But that’s okay. No soul was wasted on the process. After all, energy is needed to keep this place running.”

Her back stiffened as she kept her eye on the entities. Their eyes glowed when their forms shifted to figures that mimic humans or animals.

“I am glad to announce that this is the last level.” The voice continued. “If you were to make it through this level, then congratulations. You have won the chance to walk down the Path of the Dead so you can receive proper judgment. If not, then that is just unfortunate for you. So without further ado, good luck and you have 24 hours to escape this place.”

Then the doors groaned open to a narrow, dark, lazy river, and everyone started diving in without hesitation. She tiptoed since her view was obscured by a creature with a moose torso. Moosehead, she thought. He had brown greasy fur, he was not wearing the black jumpsuit like the rest of them, and he had no injuries except for his left antler—which seemed like another large creature had taken a bite off it. Just like AN10, the creature stood like a wall, towering over everyone.

“Oh, just one more thing.” The voice added. “You may want to use a boat or avoid the vengeful souls that drowned in the water. Do not worry, it is only 100 meters long until you reach the land. Again, good luck to you all.”

As if on cue, the creatures that dove in the water were suddenly grabbed by rotting corpses and dragged back down deep into the water.

None of them ever came back up again.

The crowd stood back in shock, unsure of what to do next since there was no other exit but the river ahead.

“Real sadistic,” AN10 whistled lowly.

“You have any idea how to get across?” Eliza asked as he rubbed the stubbles on his chin.

“Yes.”

“Then how?”

He examined the crowd and smirked. “There are enough of us here to technically use as bait. Have them go ahead of us and let them get grabbed first. That way, the souls were far too distracted by others. Of course, there is still a chance that you will get grabbed. But the more people there are in the water, the higher your chances are of surviving.”

“Or we can make a boat.” She argued as she glimpsed a sign of insanity in his eyes.

“Good luck with that.” He said as he approached an injured creature, yanked him by his collar, and tossed him in the water like a ragdoll. Without another word, he began snatching others to do the same. The creatures fought but he was far too strong and bigger than the rest. Then the giant creature with a moose torso got the idea and followed suit. With the number of creatures being thrown in the water, the others had no choice but to swim ahead or lest they would be plummeted by another body.

She rushed to stop them, but AN10 shoved her back and grabbed another creature.

“Lady, unless you want to go swimming next, move,” Moosehead grumbled as he picked up a deformed deer, a Wendigo, that was too busy crunching someone’s arm and threw it in the water. Then Moosehead wiped his hands on his tattered olive shorts, disgusted by the feeling of the Wendigo’s slimy fur.

“This is cruelty!” She exclaimed but they ignored her.

“We’re all here since we all committed terrible sins,” Moosehead said as he examined the river. The souls were far too confused on who to grab first and so some of the creatures that were tossed in the water were given a chance to survive—just like the Wendigo. With one last nod at AN10, Moosehead jumped in and shoved the other creatures toward the hungry souls.

“Let’s go, L69! We need to go before the confusion dies down.” AN10 grabbed her hand but she stepped back. His brows furrowed. “Your mission is to save those dogs. Mine is to make sure you see through it and finish it if you’re unable to. Choose. I will take that pup from you and leave you here if it comes down to it.”

She gritted her teeth and looked back at the injured creatures who cowered in the corner. She could either stay here with them, run out of time, and be eaten by the shadowy entities that hungrily circled them—or she could take the chance.

Without taking his hand, she dove into the water after she secured Spot in her hoodie. AN10 dove right after and shoved the others to the souls that tried to grab them. She huffed as she maneuvered in the chaotic narrow river, but a foot kicked her in the head that turned her momentarily blind. Immediately, AN10 grabbed her torso and tore her away from the souls that grasped her shoulders.

“Keep swimming!” She heard AN10 yell as he was yanked down deep into the waters.

“AN10!” She wanted to stop but saw that the crowd had thinned. It was only a matter of time before she was grabbed again. She never was a great swimmer, to begin with, and she wouldn’t know if she could fight her way if she was. Groaning in frustration, she pushed ahead until her palm touched the land but suddenly, teeth pierced into her ankle.

A scream stuck to her throat as she instinctively kicked her attacker with her good foot. She sank from the force and accidentally drank the water which burned her throat on the way down. She could hear Spot drown with her but she couldn’t shake off her attacker since its teeth were buried into her flesh. Suddenly, Moosehead dived back in, fought the creature for her, and yanked her up to the land. Bile rose to her throat as she threw up the acidic water that she swallowed. Then in a haze, she unzipped her hoodie to let Spot breathe. Surprisingly, the injured pup was in much better shape than her. Spot licked her hand and she gave him a weak smile. Forcing herself to sit up, she glanced at Moosehead who stared at the pup with concern.

“Thanks.”

Moosehead grunted as he stared back at the water. “Don’t thank me yet. That thing had a taste of you and he will be coming after you.”

“What thing?”

But her question was immediately answered as the Wendigo rose from the water. Its jaw unhinged as large patches of fur fell off from its pus-covered face. Although the creature was in a form of a deer, its eyes looked all too human.

She shot up to defend them, but her injured ankle gave out and she fell. “F*ck!”

The Wendigo tilted its head and in a voice identical to hers, it mimicked, “F*ck!” Then it let out guttural laughter as it slowly approached them.

Her teeth ground as she tried to summon fire magick to her hands but nothing came. Her hands remain cold as her body only shook with exhaustion.

“It’s not gonna work, lady,” Moosehead grunted as he changed his stance, never letting the Wendigo out of his sight. “The river suppresses any Celestial or Godly power to make sure that if any of them try to meddle with the Otherworld’s affairs, they will be treated just as fairly as the other souls in here.”

“Great.” She spat as she took the closest and largest rock to her. Having her silver dagger would be convenient right now, but alas, the Council was finally succeeding in getting her killed. Then without warning, the Wendigo struck. Moosehead jumped in front of her to shield them but he was much too slow in defending himself. The Wendigo lifted him by the neck, its talons digging on his meat.

“F*ck!” The Wendigo repeated.

“Moosehead!” She yelled as he battled to free himself. The Wendigo unhinged its mouth again, exposing rows of teeth. Then with all her might, she threw the rock down into its esophagus. The Wendigo choked and dropped Moosehead to the ground. Urgently, Moosehead tackled it down and repeatedly stomped on its head with all the force he could muster. Its body violently seized as pieces of brain and blood splattered on the ground. When the monster finally stopped moving, Moosehead stepped back, panting, and fell on his arse beside her.

A few seconds of silence befell them—too stunned to speak. Then Spot nudged his arm, barked softly, and waggled its tail.

Moosehead shook his head in disbelief as he finally glanced at her, “Moosehead?”

She gaped and closed her mouth. Taking a deep breath, she responded softly, “I’m sorry. It was the first thing that came to my head. What is your name?”

Nevertheless, he nodded and she swore that she saw him smile. “Moosehead is fine. I never had a name. So, thanks, lady.”

She didn’t know if he should be thanking her but she didn’t correct him otherwise. “Cool. Well, according to my uniform, I’m L69.”

“L69.” He acknowledged. “Then I’m Moosehead.”

He stood and held out a hand for her to take. Wincing, she scooped up Spot as she gladly accepted his help. Moosehead stared at Spot’s big red eyes and mumbled, “that dog is bad luck. Must you bring it with us?”

“Well,” she looked up and saw that the sky was as black as the void. “I’d hate it if you ditch me right now but the reason why I’m here is because of this dog and probably for more. My mission is to save them.”

He fell quiet as she prayed that he wouldn’t leave her to fend for herself and Spot. Finally, he spoke again, “there’s only one other.”

“Oh?” She was overcome by relief, but Moosehead did not share the same feeling.

“Yes.” He sighed as he shouldered her weight. “It’s bigger. It tried to eat that runt and everyone else that got in its way.”

“Is it still alive?” She asked and he shrugged. “We’ll find out soon enough. It likes to hunt.”

Her stomach clenched, not liking his answer. Then he carefully led them away from the water as they both ventured deeper into the dark forest without any moon or stars to guide them.

Eliza glanced one more look into the water, hoping to see AN10 rise to safety. But as they got further away, she began to accept that he had died trying to save her. She just wouldn’t know what to say to his twin sister once she got back. That was if she ever made it back.

Note from me:

Hi! Thank you for checking out Save the Dogs - the 2nd issue under my Soul Exchange House of Trials (these shorts are published on my website but I will share them here as well!). Although this series can be read independently, they are connected to my shorts: Soul Exchange Case Files. Click here for the first issue of Case Files: Monologue of a Madman.

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