As her eyes adjusted to the gloom of the workshop, they widened in alarm. “What are all those?”
He glanced idly to where she pointed, taking in the jars full of a smoke-like substance. “Just revenants.”
She picked up one of the jars to examine it. “You contained them? How?”
“Through experimentation,” he said, removing the jar from her hand and placing it back on the shelf. “I have to quickly fling the soul into the jar while it is still registering as ‘alive.’”
“How is that even possible?”
“Like this,” he said, turning to her and ripping her soul from her chest. Her body had but a moment to register its shock before crumpling to the floor as he flung her soul into a waiting jar, deftly stoppering it. Holding it up to the light, he was just able to make out the features of the girl who had moments before been standing beside him.
“It’s a shame we shan’t be speaking any longer, as I did enjoy our chats.” He reverently placed the jar on the shelf. “But no matter. Now no one will be hearing your whispers of rebellion.”
A moment later, two of his guards entered the workshop. "See that everyone knows what happened to their leader," he told them, nudging the body with his foot. The guards nodded before dragging the body away to a cell where it would harm no one.
This was inspired by the June 2011 quote: "Pick a shell upon my shore and put it to your ear. That sound isn't the sea, but the whispers of the fallen." - Crovax, Zombie Scavengers
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