In a place that’s about the same as an old car graveyard, with cars stacked on top of each other, adding up to be some sort of towers that are all around. With a house of three floors and the broken down feel of it.
“You have to be ready for the whole of it. They’ll challenge you.” – She appeared, her hair dark, her skin sun-kissed chocolate, somewhere in her 40’s and a referee. Maybe even the judge.
“I’ve got it. I’ll handle it.” – I reply.
She nods and leaves me to it.
The darkened souls appear from the house, ready to pick a fight with me.
After few of them down, it’s the sense that there are more to come. Way more. And they’re the souls of something that does not fully represent darkness. They’re – lost, forgotten, succumbed to the low and lewd. And they’re as if possessed by something.
“Ehhh.” – I let out, as another batch comes forth for me to deal with.
It is getting tiresome, really. Eventually I get inside the house. Amount of naked souls walking around, kids, teens, young adults… And they all view this fights and challenges as game. They have no understanding of how that might liberate them from this specific place.
One room draws me in. I walk in, with the endless photos on the walls hanging, with a broken old TV standing there sadly, with the wallpaper old and peeling, windows gone, curtains flowing in the wind… It’s the mourning, the souls that are here – it’s them, but older. It’s what they could be… Or what they were. They don’t wanna go back…
Eventually I walk to be taken in by few souls, they gang around to see and interact, as this to them is the new meat, the new entertainment. After sitting with them to know more, I soon begin feeling drained of the powers.
“So that what they’ve warned me about.” – I think.
I manage to get out of the room, running to the open door nearby, as it feels like it’s calling me. I get in and close the door.
“You… What are you doing here?” – I hear behind my back.
Turning around – familiar figure, with a servant by his side.
“I just need some rest.” – I say, as I approach him.
He takes a duvet and covers me with it.
“Just lay here for now.” – He says, as he pulls me to the bed.
It’s the old kind of metallic bed frame bed, the kind that you don’t wanna be on. The kind that reminds of the old hospital retreats. It’s not what one would do for.
I hear the voices outside. All those souls in an uproar.
“Why nobody said she knows the honourable guest?”, “Are them two on it?”, “So she knows him?”, “Are they together?” – and all the more it goes.
I hear him chase those brats away.
“Who would have thought that you’d end up here.” – He speaks to me now. As he approached and sat next to me.
“How did you get here? You were not meant to be here.” – I let out.
“Heh. Happened.” – He said.
He was an old soul. A one that was meant to move on, or move to the other place. He once asked for an opportunity for revenge, from me. And I helped in exchange for a piece of his soul. I’ve supposed to make it bloom and go further. But somewhat, once he was in front of me, bragging of the death he caused, being so happy and with enthusiasm, smile and joy I could not look over. It drew me in. So once I got the soul flower from him – it charmed me.
I’ve not seen such beautiful flowers. six long petals. Three in one colour of pale blue, three in shade of purple… I felt so drawn to it. I ate the flower.
That’s how piece of his soul became my possession.
He owed me nothing. Or maybe I wish he would. And I just was happy that I could be having a bit of a breather, under the cover, next to that murderous brat.
“Why here?” – I mutter.
He says nothing. Just gets his hand under cover and strokes my hair.
The servant is at the door. I feel that person standing with back to us.
Guess it’s the wish I had back then, that made it so. The egotistical need to have that flower be mine. Now that he belongs to me…
“I’ll get you out.” – I said.
His hand still on top of my head.
“Just don’t break.” – I hear his voice, as I doze off.