Reo Sterling the corpse collector.

"..."

"Hey."

"..."

"I'm talking to you."

"..."

"Reo."

"......It's been a great while since I have retired here." Reo's tired voice choked out. She glanced over at the voice addressing her. "Nostalgia transcends the rest of the Good Lord's faculties. Pardon, I say." Reo held down her sunhat as a gust made the purple ribbon around her cap flutter in the wind. Her rustic black dress and robes shimmered wildly as the wind kicked up. The girl was somewhat tall and of a slim build that made her lean into the breeze; she was as pale as the dead and it was to no one's surprise that in her exorbitant attire, she was sweating a great deal in the sublime rays of resplendent sun.

"We're almost done." a blunt and hollow voice murmured. "Only a few more are left."

"Only a few more, you say..." Reo paused. Her eyes were dreary. She was tired. She had been working for so long, the young girl's sense of time was almost distorted. "I haven't forgotten. Believe you me, I haven't. The tautological nature of the ritual's just exhausted me at this point, it has." The girl stumbled forward a bit while a slightly smaller child trailed behind her.

"A pity." the child rebuked. "But we're close to being finished. This isn't the time to suddenly slow down."

"T'was never anything good that come from expediting through a delicate process. Patience, child. Hastening a task like this will only lead to trouble, I assure you."

"Of course." Mog Caravel rolled her eyes. "As I would expect anything but the slowest and most delicate work from you." Reo sneered at the sardonic jab with what little energy she could muster.

"If we worked as fast as that tongue of yours, the ritual would be done before sunset."

"Well it won't be done any faster by meandering about." Reo ignored the quip. She droned about through the empty streets in silence. It was a late Summer day in July, and everybody retreated into their houses to avoid the scathing sun.

"This place..." she muttered to herself as she walked. "I'm glad nobody is out."

"Don't want anybody recognizing you, do you?" the child replied.

"I won't be driven out this time, I won't." she meekly whispered under her breath. "I'm almost done. Just a few more, and I can finish the ritual..." A vague, weak smile danced across her face for a moment as she reminisced inside her head, doing anything to take her thoughts off the unshakeable emptiness that was was slowly overtaking her for so long.

* * *

"These are tough times for all of us, we can't complain."

"Well, da depression can't last forever, can it?"

"Don't know. The economy doesn't seem to be picking up."

"It will. Can't yall see that things are on tha upturn?"

"Of course, the dust storms seem to be dying down a bit."

"And well o' course, ya heard da rumors, right?"

"Oh, THOSE rumors?"

"I believes it when I sees it. Ain't no such thing as a mystic."

A small crew of four to five workers were out in the blistering sun. They were the only group of people out at this hour. It was a rare time the dust storms had settled down and the sun was out, and no matter how imposing the mid-July heat was, work needed to be done. Namely the replacement of a rickety church whose windows were blown out and had its roof collapse in on itself after the piling dirt on the top came too much for it to bear. Not that it needed to be rebuilt, though. The pious era that the town was evolving in had no need for a higher power to look up to. In the Great Depression and Dustbowl, a few people saw it as divine reckoning for a decline in religious thought. But the majority of the townsfolk thought God had turned his back on their tiny little settlement and felt that they weren't going to wait for the big man upstairs to intervene.

But there had been word going about the dusty little town that there was a young girl, no older than fifteen or sixteen years of age, going around the county and curing people of illness and pain. Given the dawning of the era where science could fix everything coupled with the economic slump and the swirling storms, the local folk had a great deal of trouble believing that somebody had the miracles of healing at their disposal. Waiting for that kind of mythical haberdashery to magically fix their lives didn't suit them particularly well, but there were a choice few who believed that something was amiss.

"It's true, you know? Ms. Harris hasn't seen better years since her 40s."

"And little Sebastian got dat polio, right? Dat's something even da president can't fix, but mah child's up and about now."

"Yeah, I heard 'bout dat. Can't explain dat, but I ain't waitin for some holy priest to be fixin things 'round here. Ain't nothing good came from standing 'round praying that somebody help ya. Gots to pick yoself up off ya own two feet and work for it yoself."

"Sometimes bad things happen to good people, Clemence." one of the younger workers interjected. "Sometimes something happens and there ain't a damn thing we could do about it. We're only human, after all. Sometimes we need a bit of divine intervention to help us out." Some of the workers laughed.

"It's nice to be optimistic, ain't it?"

"I wish I was still young." They laughed a bit more. "Isaac, God won't pay your bills. He won't give you a job. And if he did, I sure as hell would bet he ain't gonna let you keep it for long."

"Bah, I know things are rough, but there's no need to be discouraging." the young man muttered. The sun was starting to go down. "Are we gonna keep working or what?"

"Nah, I think we's done for today. Hopefully it's gunna be clear tomorrow, too. Can't ever tell wit dis kind of weather."

"Alright, then I'll finish up here." Isaac said. "You all can go home now. I can clean up."

"A'ight. Be sure to block up them windows. If the storm comes rollin' back in, we don't want a dirty church that ain't finished. God might get right mighty pissed if we let that happen." The jaded old codgers laughed and went home. Isaac on the other hand cleaned up the carpentry supplies, put them in the church, and went home himself afterward.

Isaac Milton's house was pitch black when he got home. The windows, the ventilation, almost everything was patched up or being filtered. He only lived with his younger sister. Despite being around eighteen to twenty years of age, he was quite the autonomous individual. His young sister was all he had left, and she was sleeping in the other room. Her breathing was strained, and she was likely ill. Isaac was getting ready to get some rest as well, but he heard the wind kicking up.

"...Aw shit, I forgot to block up the windows." He sighed and he grabbed some tarps he wasn't using and left his house again. He secured the door tightly as he left to keep his house as clean as he could. The wind was getting stronger; what exposed skin he had felt a tingling sensation as he was getting sandblasted. The sun had just set, and with the dust sweeping into the air he couldn't make heads or tails of where he was, but he headed in the general direction from his house that he usually took to the church in order to finish it.

But he never found the church.

Young Isaac Milton wandered for a bit before his lungs were filled with dirt, his eyes were filled with dirt, and his clothes were filled with more dirt. He eventually succumbed and hit the ground in the middle of a nameless road that which he hadn't a clue as to how he had gotten there. As he lay there, it got harder to breathe. So he slowed down. And eventually he stopped, and he felt like he was going to sleep.

"Hmm... you are coming to, it seems?" a feminine voice said to Isaac. Of course he had trouble hearing it since his ears were filled with dirt and the wind was roaring like a locomotive. He coughed and sputtered and wheezed and sat up. He was inside the incomplete church with the four dainty windows blocked and sealed up. A dim candle illuminated the room as his teary, filthy eyes slowly regained their sight.

"A road is a queer place to take a nap." that same voice said to him. "Had you been torpid a little while longer, you would be in God's house of worship for altogether a different reason, you would've." A young girl sat next to him. She was in an overly-elaborate dress filled with volume, and if not for the layer of dust on the entirety of her being, he would almost assume that she was the daughter of an aristocrat. That was a slight bit concerning since she was in a half-finished church in the middle of the night during a dust storm.

"Who are you?" he weakly coughed out, remnants of his lungs still filled with dust.

"Reo Mitira Sterling." she stated. "I've only been living here for six years, I have. I find it mildly insulting that you would not know the residents of your own little town by name." Her haughty manner of speech had a kind of regal fulsomeness to it that made her difficult to follow, even moreso to somebody who nearly died and has just regained consciousness.

"...Why am I alive?" he asked.

"I saved you, I did."

"I must've inhaled at least a pound of dirt."

"That you did."

"Did you just pull the dirt out of my lungs?

"Yes."

"How?"

"I choose not to disclose my methods." There was an awkward silence, made more awkward with Reo's stern look on her face.

"......You didn't do anything indecent, did you?" he said in a suspicious tone. The girl paused and thought for a moment, caught wind of his implication, and blushed furiously.

"DON'T BE RIDICULOUS, YOU PILLOCK!" she shrieked. He let out a laugh as she was trembling. "...That being said, my residence is on this street. I suggest we retire there until the sun rises tomorrow, I say."

"That isn't helping your case."

"CEASE YOUR TONGUE! I SAVED YOUR LIFE AND I WILL HAVE NONE OF THAT IMMODEST DISCUSSION! NOW YOU CAN STAY IN THIS CHURCH IF YOU WOULD LIKE BUT I INTEND ON GOING HOME, I DO!"

"Well, I'm extremely grateful. I'm glad you saved my life. I thank you for it."

"It was little trouble, I was on my way home. Now let us vacate this dusty shack."

"It's not a shack, it's a church..." he said.

And so they vacated. Reo Sterling's house was only a bit further down the road. Certainly closer than Isaac's, whose house was also in the direction opposite that the wind was blowing. It was something almost unheard of for a young upstanding man of faith to do, but he had no choice but to room with the girl he just met that night.

"Mother, I have returned." Both Isaac and Reo forced their ways into the house and quickly closed the door before the dust could get in. Her mother was in the kitchen, standing over the counter. She didn't say anything or acknowledge her daughter entering the house. Isaac knew something peculiar was happening, but figured it was best not to ask. Like why Reo was out at night during the dust storms only to come home so late. Perhaps her mother was giving her the silent treatment, but it was no business of his to ask. Her mother brought the two some tea. When Isaac glanced at her, she was pale. She clearly hadn't left the house in some time. Her eyes were a cold, tired gray-blue, yet her face was still young and a touch beautiful. She was like a mannequin, and didn't say a word as she went back to the kitchen. Reo was wiping her face and shaking her hair out as she sat at the table, wiggling loose the coat of dust on her a bit.

"This is a very nice house." he said.

"Yes it is. T'was difficult to build in this weather, but my father left behind a great fortune when he gave up the ghost."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. When did he pass away?"

"A very long time ago. I cannot recall at the moment."

"Well, your mother's aged well considering the grief that's probably struck her." Reo didn't say anything. Isaac felt like he was saying too much.

"Both of my parents have passed away, so I can understand what that's like." he said.

"Oh?" Her eyebrow raised as she sipped her tea. Her upright and proper posturing clashed with her dirtied appearance.

"My father was sent off to die in the Great War, and my mother shortly died of despair afterward." Reo remained silent. "I suppose I'm getting by fine on my own, but I worry about my sister. She's still young, and she's been quite ill for the past several weeks."

"...That is a tragic turn of events, it is. You have my condolences." Her taciturn face shifted into a more melancholic look. Isaac shuttered a bit.

"I've lost a lot already... I don't know if I can lose anymore, though." he said, his voice cracking a bit. "I'm quite glad you saved my life, though. I wouldn't want to leave the poor child alone."

"......No you wouldn't." Reo said. "Being alone... is a very unfortunate feeling. I'm all too familiar with it, I am."

"No siblings?"

"None."

"Well, at least you have your friends, right?"

"I only abscond from my residence after the sun falls. I've yet to converse much with the local populace, I have."

"...I see."

"If anything," she began, "You're the first person I've talked to in a good long time, you are. I cannot even recall the last time I've spoken to somebody for more than five minutes."

"Well, I guess I'm your first friend here." Isaac cheerfully stated.

"...I suppose you are." A smile crossed her pale, dirtied face. If it weren't for her being recently ravaged by all the dirt, she would be quite a beautiful girl. Although there was still one nagging question he need to know the answer to.

"Forgive me for asking," Isaac began to say, "but what in the Lord's name were you doing out there so late?"

"Collecting the dead."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Collecting the dead, I say."

"...No, seriously."

"You call me a fabulist?"

"No, but that doesn't sound right. Are you a mortician?"

"I thought you were dead yourself, I did." she continued. "I was going to collect you, yet I sensed life still in your lungs and chose to save you instead."

"......Are you the mystic people keep talking about?" he said, leaning in his chair towards her. "Are you the one going around healing people and saving their lives?"

"If that is what people are calling me, then so it must be." As shocked as he was, he couldn't remain speechless. His curiosity pushed his words out.

"...How does it work?"

"I pray, I chant, and I focus. That's all it takes."

"And people are magically fixed of whatever physical ailment plaguing them?"

"Yes."

"......And you're keeping quiet about it?"

"Yes."

"Why? You have a miracle, a gift, something incredible. If more people knew about it, you could be saving even more lives."

"Lives are not just physical ailments, they're not." she sternly said. "Even if one was cured of all sickness, misfortune will still fall upon them. That is what the soul does."

"Hmm?"

"The soul feels sorrow. The soul feels envy. It feels anguish. And it feels loneliness. Those are things I cannot cure with my 'gift.' This mortal body of mine, I have found ways to keep it healthier than most, but it cannot fix those things." She took a sip of some more tea and continued. "The soul has far greater power than anything these mortal bodies can comprehend. I have understood a bit more than most people, but it is still very little, it is."

"...I guess you're right. I guess miracles couldn't mend a broken heart or loneliness."

"The essence of people can be used to fix our mortal bodies, but that is the extent of what I understand and what I can do." One particular sentence gave him pause.

"...What do you mean 'the essence of people?'"

"The soul."

"So wait," He thought for a bit, and a stark look overtook his face as the realization came through. "You're using the souls of people... to heal them?"

"Your assumptions are correct, my friend."

"That... that's horrible!"

"I do not collect the souls of those with the breath of life still within them." she refuted. "I only collect the souls of the recently deceased, and they would simply disperse otherwise. I am merely a corpse collector of sorts, I am." There was silence. It didn't bother Reo; she was used to it. It was an awful lot for a normal young man like Isaac Milton to take in all at once. But his curiosity still got the better of him.

"...How do you find them?" he asked.

"I can sense them as they leave. They cry and they mutter and they lament and so I catch the few I can and I collect them, you see."
"...B-b-but... they're the souls of people... what happens to them?"

"They are left to dance in the ether until they disperse and become a part of the world again, but instead I choose to give them new life in the person they're used to save. Is that not a better cause than to wander the Earth alone only to eventually disperse? I say it is, I do."

"I suppose..."

"I can even sense one or two of them tonight that will probably depart from us." That made Isaac wince. The girl could predict when somebody was going to die. It was unsettling to him. "But I have been missing them as of late. This weather poses a steep exigence to work through, it does." As it would. As strange as the girl was, she was probably still a mere mortal, if not a blessed one with an unusual skill.

"Are those all of your questions? It matters not, it doesn't. I believe we should retire for the night. Follow me to your room, I say." She stood up and led the contemplative Isaac to a spare guest bedroom. It had no dust in it. He stripped off his clothes.

"Leave them at the door." he heard Reo. "Mother will clean them as best she can for you tomorrow, she will. Wear something to sleep in the closet." He listened and opened the closet. There were a pair of spare men's pajamas in there he put on. As he undressed, he couldn't help but notice that he had a chipped rosary around his neck that he never had before. Probably hers, he thought, as a blessing from the house of the Lord.

"Question, Reo."

"One more, then I am going to sleep."

"You still never told me why you haven't told anybody about this."

"...It's beyond the realm of most human comprehension and rationality, it is. Some things are simply best left unspoken."

"Then why are you telling me all of this? What makes me different? Why should I know?"

"Because you asked."

"Why are you answering me, then?"

"You are my friend, that is why." It was unsettling but a smile couldn't help but cross his face upon hearing her say that. "That was four more than I stated. Now I bid you a good rest. I shall wake you in the morning to escort you back home." With that, he blew out the candle in the room and lied in the soft bed. It was eerily peaceful in the room; as if he could fall asleep and never wake up. The bed was unfamiliar to him, but comforting as it swallowed and pulled him into slumber. When he woke up, he had breakfast and talked for a great while with his new friend, Reo Sterling. Their philosophies on life were well understood by now; Isaac discussed his work, his family, and what little things of interesting he could bring up. Reo was almost exhausted from all the talking she had to do. She was never inclined to be talking so often so she became used to saying as much as she could when she spoke. But she didn't at all mind; it was the first genuine human company she had in a good long while. The day seemed to be off to a fantastic start for Isaac, that was until he left to go back home and check up on the church.

* * *

"......I... I-I don't want to believe this."

"...I'm real sorry, Isaac. When I came outta my house ta' go ta' work dis morning, there's where I found 'er." Isaac couldn't speak a word. His eyes were bleak. There he stood, inside of the incomplete church. A window blew out in the middle of the night and filled the church with dirt. That wasn't what he was upset about. What he was upset about was a tiny lump in the church, almost like a little pile of dirt. It was of a girl curled up as tightly as possible to endure the storm last night.

"...S-she... she went looking for me when I didn't return home..." He was weeping. He pulled her lifeless body out of the dust and clenched her tightly in his arms as the wind blew even harder.

"Listen, Isaac," Clemence said. "Y'all shouldn't be working for da' rest of da' week. We'll clean dis up and we can finish up da church on our own. You should go home and get some rest." His face became caked with dirt after the tears made the dust stick to his face. He looked up and saw the madam with a parasol standing in the distance, watching him. He got up and ran to her as quickly as possible.

"R-Reo...... s-s-she's gone." he grabbed her shoulders crying. "ONE OF THE ONLY THINGS I HAD LEFT WAS TAKEN FROM ME!"

"I... I..." she had no idea what to say. She never stuck around after watching somebody die to see the aftermath. It was jarring to her to see somebody, her new friend, in such despair. She eventually started crying, too. "If... if I hadn't invited you back to my house..." her voice was cracking. Isaac immediately looked at her.

"NO!" he shouted at her. "T-this... this isn't your fault. You couldn't have known... something like this would've happened."

"B-b-but I sensed a soul leaving last night... I could've done something..."

"I... I knew she was ill. And I knew that she gets lonely often. She pulled reckless things a lot as a child. I should've assumed that she might've become worried if I didn't come back home..." Reo couldn't find any words to speak. Her vocabulary, as exhausting as it was, couldn't find anything.

"...I... I want her back." he weeped. "SHE WAS ALL I HAD LEFT, I WANT HER BACK!" He then paused, and looked at Reo. "......R-Reo, do you know anything about that?" Her face had an ill reflection on it.

"...I-I don't know if I can do anything about that." she meekly said. "...The human soul is a fragile yet powerful entity... conjuring one back is something I am not capable of doing, I'm not."

"C-Can you try at least?" he asked.

"I... uh..." she stuttered.

"I'M BEGGING YOU, CAN YOU TRY SOMETHING? ANYTHING!?" he desperately pleaded. She gulped nervously.

"I... will look into it." she said quietly under her breath. "B-b-but no promises, I say. What you are asking may be something beyond the spectrum of mortal hands." He didn't care, it was something he wanted to hear.

"OH THANK YOU!" he cried, hugging her as tightly as possible. Her face lit up as red as a stop sign.

"I... I must get to work." she bashfully said as she shuffled off back to her house. "But..."

"...But?" Isaac was curious.

"...I'm going to need her body."

"For what?"

"Souls disperse, I have said." the girl stated as she pulled her eyes away from him. "Any residue of one's self is in the body the soul inhabited. Your sister's essence is left behind in her body, so I will need it as a vessel."

"...R-right." Isaac picked up his sister's body and wrapped it tightly in one of the tarps used to block the windows and carried her to Reo's house. What ensued over the next several days was Reo staying up every night feverishly studying, working, researching, experimenting. It was appropriate, since the dust storms kept her inside her house. She had no clue of what her friend was doing, but it twisted something uncomfortably in her heart just thinking about it, which motivated her to work even harder. Eventually though, she became enlightened and decided to try a ritual of sorts that she gained knowledge of.

There was a knock on the door. A week had passed, and for once in a good long while, the skies were clear again. The door opened, and there stood Isaac Milton. He had a submissive and melancholic aura about him, but within there were faint traces of optimism.

"Um... hello, Reo." he said. She stood there for a minute, and started to cry.

"...I-I-I tried, b-but I couldn't do it..." she squeaked out. "I really tried, I did... I'm sorry..." Isaac let out a bit of a sigh.

"Well, yes I suppose that's something that's too much to ask. I was irrational at the time. I'm sorry for asking such a thing of you..." he said, patting her on the head. But as she continued to speak, her voice rose.

"B-BUT I'M CLOSE, I AM! I JUST NEED SOME MORE TIME!" she asserted. "I... I need to collect enough rogue souls meandering about, then I'm sure I can call her back..." Isaac looked on with a bit of hesitance.

"I... I don't know if that's dangerous to keep doing or not, Reo."

"BUT I FELT LIKE I TOOK HER FROM YOU, I WANT TO FIX THIS, I DO!"

"...You didn't. I told you that. Please, just don't do anything reckless, okay?" Despite hearing that, she kept her resolve.

"I... I don't want to disappoint my friend. I'm going to do this. I just need to collect some more."

"Reo..." And the conversation ended there. She slumped gloomily back into her house, her cold mother still in the kitchen, not saying a word to her. She couldn't bear to look Isaac in the eye until she accomplished what she set out to do for him. His facade couldn't hide anything from her; an immense lonely sorrow permeated the air around him, and she wanted to help him get rid of it. She spent every night braving the dust storms to wander the streets of the town, looking for any remnants of people she could find. She managed to amass a small fortune of souls over the course of several days. One night in particular was when something had happened.

It was a clear night, one of few. A shriek could be heard coming from a lone house on a road away from the rest of the town. Reo immediately sensed the presence of the recently departed in there. She was overcome with grimness as she made her way towards the house, remaining out of sight from the doors and windows. As she approached, she heard the sounds of domestic dispute indoors. The door suddenly burst open and a woman was running out screaming. A man stood out of the door with an old rifle and shot the woman dead before she got far.

"THAT'LL FUCKING TEACH YOU, YOU BITCH!" he belched out. He was clearly intoxicated and in a fit of rage as he gunned down what Reo assumed was his wife. She was shaking with fury at what she witnessed. The wind started to kick up again. She managed to crawl out of the bushes, and the man immediately noticed the young regal woman looking at her. His anger quickly turned to fear and paranoia as he started hysterically crying and pointed the rifle at her.

"Confess." was the only cold word that left her mouth before the man's body went limp. A faint blue wisp was pulled from his body into her hands as it as pulled into a small ring she wore. She stood there for a second, breathing in what had just happened. She sighed, and then held out her hand and pulled in the murdered woman's soul as well.

"What I'm resorting to, I don't like. But I cannot watch it go to waste." She let out a prayer. Murdered souls and the souls of evil people were the same as the souls of the altruistic and righteous, but it still left a bad taste in the girl's mouth.

"...What in the Lord's name are you?" she heard a voice and turned around. It was Clemence, one of the carpenters working on the church. "Y-y-you's the one Isaac's been talkin' to! HE'S BEEN COLLABORATING WIT THE GOD-DAMN DEVIL!"

"...Oh no."

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" He fled from her and ran back towards the town. He was going to tell everybody what she did. Her head told her he was going to tell the townspeople that she murdered a family, that she robbed a man of his soul. The most pious man in town had the fear of God put into him and he was going to let everybody know it. She couldn't let him do that. She chased after him into town. She saw Clemence, banging and yelling on Isaac's door.

"I JUST SAW YO DEVIL FRIEND KILL OFF MR. HARRIS! WAKE UP, ISAAC, WAKE UP!"

"I would advise against that." a cold, disembodied voice said. He turned around, terrified, and saw something that scared him even more.

"I hope you've enjoyed the last moments of your life, Mr. Clemence. But you have something we want." Mog said, standing at the door. The wind started blowing harder and the dust storm was returning.

"W-W-WHAT ARE YOU? YOU'RE SUP--"

"Confess." His speech was cut off as his body hit the ground, his soul pulled out into Reo's delicate hands. She saw the lights come on in Isaac's house.

"Clemence? Is something wrong?" she heard him shout. Reo started trembling uncontrollably and crying a bit. A bleak fear and panic swelled inside her.

"N...N-NO! I WON'T LET HIM SEE ME DOING THIS!" she wept. She grabbed Mog's hand and ran as fast as she could. The direction mattered not; whichever was the quickest way out of town. And Reo left for a long time after that. She knew that something terrible would continue to happen if she stayed there; if he saw her at the door over the cadaver she just robbed. So she fled. She was left to wander the countryside, but she knew she had a mission. For a great while she wandered and cherrypicked souls across the country with Mog. She did it for such a great long while that she was slowly forgetting why she was gathering them in the first place. Death did not phase the girl, she saw it enough at this point. She simply wandered and fought off Mog's nagging quips to keep working, nothing more. The young, grating girl was no company for Reo. All she cared about as pushing Reo to keep collecting. It was a monotonous life to impose on herself so much.

* * *

"I am simply visiting my mother since I have been out of town for so long, I say. We will get back to work soon. Have I ever misled you before, Mog?"

"Well there was that time in Chicago with those delinquents..."

"Yes yes, but I am not one to deal with those brash ruffians, I'm not."

"And that time passing through Omaha..."

"Conniving tods riddled that cesspool of modern society, they did."

"And that time in Philadelphia..."

"Beggars falsifying their shallow lives for pity and money. It was naive to think that those connycatchers wouldn't spend their money on something illegal, I say."

"They recalled that amendment, alcohol isn't illegal anymore. It was illegal when we left here." Mog responded.

"It should have stayed illegal, it should've. T'wasn't as if anything good came from a bunch of worthless knaves standing around consuming alcohol for the entirety of the day. Nothing at all."

"I think your methodology of thinking might be a bit dated..." Mog muttered. Reo's blank, exasperated look blushed with frustration.

"I am a full four years older than you are, what is a child to be catechizing I on my methodology of logic!? My syllogistic methods of deduction?!"

"If you put as much effort into our task as you did that garrulous and redundant manner of speech you have, we'd be done already."

"This topic again, I see." Reo sighed. All the energy and empathy left her voice again and she lifelessly slumped her shoulders back down, walking through the streets. There were more cars on the roads; industrialization will do that. Mog paused a bit, and started walking away from Reo before she could notice. And when she noticed, she sighed and left to look for her. She wandered a few blocks before she found an old house that had been remodeled. Mog was standing in front of it.

"We only need one more soul. There's one in there getting ready to leave." she pointed. Reo sighed.

"Yes..." she slumped and knocked on a the door. No answer. She simply let herself in since she assumed the recently departed was alone. The house had a rustic look to it and the house was musky. It smelled like stale dust. She walked her way into the bedroom, and there an old man was who recently died. He had a smile on his face as he wore a rosary and had a book on his lap. His humble old soul hovered above him and she pulled it in with what little strength she had left. She stared at it for a while, and started giggling.

"Hehehe... it's done. This is enough... I HAVE ENOUGH!" She mustered her energy and did a joyous spinning dance as she left the house. Mog was out there, already walking back to Reo's house.

"Come on, the ritual won't wait all day."

"Give me time, I say..." she said, winded as she caught up to Mog. She entered her house, and there her mother was, still in the kitchen at the counter. She didn't say a word like usual. Reo did not care. The end was in sight for her. She pulled Mog into the center of her room and Reo pulled off her ring.

"This should have enough, it should." She put the ring on Mog's tiny finger as she blankly stared at it. The light in the ring started to shine brightly. Eventually the light starting shimmering and filling up the entire room. Yet nothing was happening; there wasn't enough souls gathered, even after all of Reo's hard work.

"NO, IT STILL ISN'T ENOUGH?! WHY ISN'T IT ENOUGH!?" But the light continued to shine even brighter. Reo felt her own soul being shaken and pulled in by the light, but she fought it. The ring was reacting violently to the ritual; there were enough souls to start it, but not enough to complete it, and thus the ring tried to pull in more around it. It was a terrible vacuum that Reo fought her hardest to resist. Eventually the light burst out of the house. She was virtually blinded by the radiant display, and its reach was unknown as to how far it went. But within an instance, the light was immediately pulled back into the ring. Reo managed to keep a hold onto herself as the ring stopped reacting. Mog was on the ground, and she slowly opened her eyes.

"..Uuaah......" she moaned.

"...My dear my dear, did it work?"

"...Where's my brother?" she asked. Reo paused for a second.

"......Oh right, your brother." her voice sounded strained. Mog got up and ran outside. Reo rolled behind. Her mother didn't notice; she still stood in the kitchen. When they went out there was nobody on the streets. Nobody around them. The cars were empty in the middle of the road. The wind and the sound of running cars were all that could be heard. The lonely meandering silence was overwhelming. The girl ran off while Reo was coughing and wheezing from exhaustion to keep up. The sound of footsteps pierced the silence and it was the only living sound being made now.

While she ran, she ran by the old church. It looked as if it was completed, but it was rapidly falling into disrepair with the local foliage overtaking it. The windows were smashed. The dust gathering inside wasn't from a storm but from disuse. She stopped and stared at it for a bit before running off in pursuit again.

There was the house that Reo was just at, and as the girl ran in, Reo thought about the house and stared at it for a while, and a terrible nausea swept through and shook her body. She trembled and walked into the house that still smelled of dust. As she walked into the room where she found her last soul, there Mog was, crying and grasping a family portrait.

"He... he can't be gone..." she cried.

"...Child..."

"I DON'T WANT TO BELIEVE IT! I'M GOING TO FIND HIM!" Mog screamed as she ran past Reo out the door. Reo sat on the bed and saw the chipped Rosary where a human body used to be. She picked it up and put it on. It belonged to her, after all. When she went outside, there was nobody waiting for her. The faint sound of clacking shoes was all that could be heard, slowly petering off as Reo stood there. She wanted to follow it. It was only a matter of time before her body started aging and giving out on her without any souls to keep her alive indefinitely any longer. A thick, lonely melancholy hung over again as that clacking went silent, and she knew it was too far away for her to catch.

"I don't want to be alone any longer." she said under her breath. Her empty self began walking down the street, hoping to hear those footsteps again.