The Soul Keepers-

The eyes are the windows to the soul.

First there had been darkness, then an unbearable white light that stung like acid in her eyes. She knew she wasn't going to live to see her killer's face. But she was certain they were going to thrive on seeing her die. A dark voice was whispering around her, but she couldn't see anymore, she was blind! Footsteps walked closer to her. She struggled but nothing moved. Suddenly pain filled every point in her body as she felt a knife dig into her back. She felt herself fall down, not to the ground, but into death. Slowly the voices died down, as her perception of the situation became weaker. She used all her remaining power to regain her eyesight and hearing, and a light appeared in the darkness. A face started to blur into focus, but the man's face was cloaked. She was just about to give in when he made a mistake; he removed his hood, thinking the woman on the floor in front of him, still remained blind. She saw his features, a memory sparked, she knew him. She closed her eyes and gave in to her fate; she had always known it would end like this. A voice spoke clearly through the pain.

"Goodnight Sandrine, say hello to the others for me. I am sure they will remember me," the voice stated. Then Isabella Sandrine knew no more.

****

He couldn't believe it. Sandrine had always been his closest friend she was also his first turned. She had always been there for him, and he had always been there for her. Now they were no longer in the same plane of existence. The situation with the rival Keepers was getting worse, there was no longer balance between the two as evil tried to take it all.

Sandrine had been powerful. She wasn't as powerful as a Mid-way could become, but she was stronger than most, she had many years behind her. Or she did. In his vision he had seen her die. A swahagan knife planted strategically in her back. Towards the end she had looked up and he had seen a reflection in her clear blue eyes, a face, that he recognised. But it was not clear to him. All he knew was that Sandrine was dead, and the Mid-way that had murdered her was the most powerful yet. For all the attacks he knew about, it had been the same religious knife used. This man had power that had been honed for many years. He was going to be hard to defeat, that was if he could be defeated.

Tom walked into his bathroom and went to the sink *I can't believe that she is dead!* Tom thought for the hundredth time. He turned the tap and splashed water onto his face. He wanted to kill and take vengeance on the man who would do this to Sandrine. He looked up and jumped back when he noticed a major feature on his face was different. His eyes were no longer blue they were black. All dark souls had black eyes. Tom knew it was his violent instincts showing through. He was angry. He hadn't turned, there was too much at stake to lose all he had worked so hard to control.

Most Mid-ways like him were drawn to a person's dark impulses, but he had kept his under raps for six hundred years, they rarely showed themselves now. He had built an emotional barrier to control himself. Emotions stimulate irrational thoughts that lead to evil in his case. But he could not shut away the anger he felt for Sandrine's death. Though he knew he had to, for all the Keeper's sakes. Tom closed his eyes and held his breath, clearing his mind of all negative thoughts. He opened his eyes and stared at their normal light baby blue colour.

Tom walked into his bedroom, and then out into the lounge area. He sat down on the couch. Putting his head into his hands he started to think. It had been a long time, nearly 200 hundred years since he had lost control like that, albeit only for a couple of hours. But it was serious. One of his trusted friends had turned to the evil Keepers, and had nearly killed him and the others that were with him. He had become enraged, and his eyes turned black. He couldn't retrieve his pure nature and started to attack anyone who came close, while the others, came up with an antidote, that's what they had called it. He remembered it so clearly, like it happened yesterday, the screaming, running up into the cliffs, jumping.

****

He looked down; it was a long way to the bottom. But what else was there to face, but death. Matt had been turned from good forever. And he felt like turning with him. They had been like brothers. Matt was a Mid-way too. He heard voices behind him; the policemen had finally caught him up. They thought they had had him surrounded. No one expected him to jump, but he did. The ground was coming nearer to him, though he knew that it was him who was the one getting nearer-to the ground. He felt like he was suspended, but he knew he wasn't. He also knew that he had the power to get out of this situation, but he didn't have the power to live, and kill by evil.

*It's better this way* Tom thought looking down again; he really did feel like he wasn't moving. It was then he realised, he wasn't moving, and he was actually floating. But he didn't think about using his power. He was needed though, he knew deep down that he couldn't abandon the others, unconsciously he knew that, and therefore stopped himself from dying. He focused on being in the back room at Sandrine's, and then, he was there. He looked up and she came running in with a gun, she looked at him, and then smiled. He looked confused; she helped him up and guided him to the mirror. His eyes were once again blue.

"If you can control your impulses you have nothing to worry about, I'll always be here to help you," Sandrine said in her French accent. Tom smiled and they walked out to meet the others. He could control himself; he could never be like Matt and leave everyone alone, in the dark.

****

But he was without them now; they were most probably dead. And Sandrine would never be there for him again.

"I still have to protect my people," Tom said out loud as he stood up. He knew that only few good Mid-ways remained, and he was one of them. They needed him now, just like they needed him before, all those years ago. Nothing and everything has changed through the years he had survived. Friends and family died, but the motives always stayed the same. Keep the good strong to keep the bad weak. But of all things what worried him the most was the fact that this was the fifth vision of a Keeper's death he had had in a couple of weeks. He could see why he had seen Sandrine's. Keepers sometimes saw the passing of close friends. But the others he had never even met. So why did he see them die? The only connection was that they all died by the same hand. That would mean that his connection wasn't with the victims, but with the killer himself. The killer was murdering Keepers, and they wanted him to know.