Digging graves was never a comfortable task.
Not for the desperate seven-year-old Eli, nor the young man he'd become.
His fingers trembled all the same in the dark every time he plowed the shovel down until it struck wood.
Dark mud stained his once-pristine white shirt, digging into his nails as he wrenched the coffin lid open.
Soil billowed up from the force. Some stuck to his sweaty forehead like plaster.
A bit more, and the child would be able to escape the fate of turning into a vengeful ghost.
The middle-aged corpse was still fresh, not yet rotten and pungent. Still, Eli's stomach churned as he caught the strong scent of sin wafting from the old man.
One glance at Mr. Colton's distorted, wide-eyed face told enough: this man had lived a life drenched in evil. His soul must already be eroding in hell.
The sheer terror frozen in those sunken eyes was obvious even under the dim streetlight. It made Eli wonder just what kind of demon had killed this heinous monster?
"May that demon receive the blessing of God," Eli muttered as thanks.
Whoever had killed Mr. Colton had done half the work for him.
But Eli's task wasn't vengeance against this evildoer. His only wish was to save the child bound to this corpse.
With Mr. Colton dead, there was no other way to free the spirit than to use the personal belongings linked with the child. All the indications had led him to this place.
Fumbling through the expensive fabric of the corpse's shirt, he shot a quick glance around the silent graveyard. Even the insects seemed to avoid this place.
At the far end, shrouded in darkness, was a little cabin with no sign of movement.
Good.
However, much to his dismay, all the pockets were empty.
The memory of a crying child locked in heavy chains flashed in his mind. There was once a time when he was in such a desperate situation, eagerly waiting for his family to rescue him.
"If you can't even use your curse for us, what is the point of having a wench like you? Useless trash! Should have left you in that dustbin to die."
The faint echo of his adoptive mother's yelling lingered in his ears, and even now, the memory had his lungs desperate for more oxygen.
He absolutely couldn't return empty-handed. If he failed, he wouldn't get another chance to sneak into this place ever again.
No matter what, he couldn't possibly allow himself to abandon a child.
He checked the barely there fleshy neck and the thick wrists but found nothing. Just then, the lights in the cabin flickered on.
Oh, Lord…
His heart leapt into his throat as he frantically patted down the corpse like some desperate pervert.
Muffled voices from the little control room reached his sharp ears.
The lone guard was talking to someone, which meant there were more people than there should've been.
Sweat beaded on his brow as he forced his trembling hands to keep searching.
Then his fingers brushed something cold at the man's waist.
Without any hesitation, he tore open the branded shirt. There, hidden beneath layers of flesh, was a golden chain with a tiny key dangling from it.
The metallic key, half his pinky, was exactly what he'd come to this graveyard in the middle of the night.
"Who's there?!"
The shout nearly made Eli drop the chain back into the coffin.
He spun around, stone-grey eyes widening at the sight of two burly bodyguards charging forward like bulls.
Without waiting another second, he bolted in the opposite direction.
"Stop right there!"
"Catch that crook!"
Eli didn't stop — not even when the brick wall loomed in front of him like a silent threat.
With a burst of momentum, he grabbed the edge and vaulted over it.
The echo of pounding boots and angry yells continued to chase him.
Please God… don't let me sprain my ankle now…
With a ragged breath, he leapt down, landing hard on the empty asphalt road. The sharp ache rushed from the soles of his feet to his thighs.
Even fools avoided the graveyard during such dark hours.
Other fools — excluding Eli.
"Hurry up!" Chase waved from the open window of the car, urging him to move faster. The guards' voices grew louder.
His hand tightened around the chain in his pocket as he sprinted for the dented Citroën Saxo VTS.
With a last dash, he threw himself onto the passenger seat just as Chase floored the gas pedal.
The tiny, off-white car rushed into the darkness like an arrow.
At that moment, Eli had no idea that his helping hand would be grabbed by the very demon he had just prayed for.
The same demon who had easily killed Colton now had his sights set on the little sparrow who dared to flee with what was his.