Story: 

Ethan is a Soul in the Underworld with no memory of his life on Earth. He is bought and sold by various masters for centuries. Traveling from large industrial towns to scorching hot deserts. During his journey he picks up the skills, knowledge and magic to escape his enslavement. He runs with the intent of living a free life, but is pursued by agents until he's cornered on a remote mountain range. With little time left, Ethan begins to recount his life and masters in the hope of leaving a record of his existence. These are his memories.

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I may have forgotten myself and given into despair, but it wasn't over. I still had time to pull myself together and become the unrelenting soul who I was weeks earlier. It didn't matter if my opponent was twice my size, or a thousand times stronger, I vowed to run and fight until the world ended.

The mountain cave had become quiet, as though the delusions disappeared along with my self doubt. Sunlight filtered through the entrance, illuminating the icy rocks and crevices. Enough that the lighting spell by my feet was no longer needed. I kicked the crystal from the paper and the faint ball of light disappeared, small drops of ice dislodging from my leg which hadn't moved in days. I deposited the paper, crystal, and notebook back into my jacket, pulled myself to my feet, and made my way out of that hole.

I was ready to take on any challenge that they threw my way, refusing to ever give into that level of hopelessness again, but then I saw it. A small thin trail of smoke rising up from a snowy hill in the distance. As though the owner had fallen asleep, and forgotten to extinguish the flames before the break of dawn.

There was only one person that fire could belong to.

The remaining Soul Market agent.

There was no way that reinforcements could have arrived already, so he'd continued his pursuit alone. Motivated either by dedication to his cause, or vengeance against the crazy soul who murdered his comrade.

"Shit," I swore as panic began to cloud my mind.

My desire to run was overpowering. I wanted to flee from that spot and continue onwards forever, but that was how I'd lose. If I ever hoped to beat the Soul Market once and for all, then I needed to stand and fight. I needed to know just how they managed to track me across Hell.

I clenched my fist and tried best to gather what courage I had left. "Well, looks like I'll be taking the initiative this time," I said, but none of the voices spoke back.

---

I retraced my steps to a narrow pass on the mountain road. It was wedged in between a rock wall and a sharp drop, so there was nowhere else for that stinking Soul Market agent to go. I spent the afternoon moving snow and laying traps, patiently waiting for the moment when the demon would show his ugly face.

Two days passed by the time he finally arrived. He was more decrepit then I remembered. Clothing worn and face hollow. Wearily creeping along the path like the mountain had taken its toll on him as well. His footsteps were deliberately slow and silent, like he already knew that I was close by. No, of course he knew that I was there. They always did.

He caught sight of my worn and patched up coat billowing in the wind. Hood drawn up and sleeves pulled down, leaving nothing exposed. The demon froze for a moment before pressing his back against the mountain wall, eyeing my clothing warily as a plan came together in his creepy mind. This time there were no verbal warnings or talk of contracts, he'd learnt his lesson and refused to leave anything to chance.

The demon crept closer, edging his way towards the cliff in order to get me in range of his spells. He was midway through taking one step when he suddenly paused, gaze falling to the ground before his feet. The freezing spell that I carefully laid, had become painfully obvious in the failing sunlight.

The arsehole carefully examined the glowing insignias, until he located the small purple crystal powering the spell. He carefully nudged it off the diagram with his foot, and the symbols disappeared, allowing the demon to continue forward without fear of sticking to the ground.

Then I was within range of his sneaky little tricks.

The demon held his hands out before him and chanted under his breath. Four walls of ice instantly sprung from the ground, ten times the speed that he managed before. Someone certainly spent those freezing nights practicing. The walls of ice enclosed my coat, leaving no room to escape.

The demon's mouth broke out into a grin and triumph flashed across his face. He eagerly strolled towards the ice coffin with the confidence of a man who'd won.

"It's over soul!" He punched his fist into the air as though fighting an invisible foe. "Don't think for a second that you'll get yourself out of this one!"

I almost felt sorry for the fool when the snow collapsed under his feet, and he plunged into the trap which I'd dug in the middle of the pass. His feet hit my second freezing spell at the bottom of that hole, paralyzing him in place, leaving only his head and shoulders exposed.

It was then that I sprang up out of a mound of snow, butt naked, clothes still draped over the snowman which the demon trapped within ice.

I raised a plank of wood over my shoulder and advanced towards his frozen form, my feet leaving the faintest of footprints behind me in the snow.

"It's over, huh?" I spat as I swung the plank straight into his head.

My swing was weaker than I expected and it wasn't enough to render him unconscious. "Over for who? You piece of shit!"

I furiously swung the wood again and again, channeling all my anger and frustration into those strikes, until the demon's eyes rolled back into his head and he finally lost consciousness.

I tossed the wood away and collapsed to my knees, chest heaving up and down even though I don't breathe. I had planned for every possible scenario, placing traps upon traps until the pass was a minefield, but I'd been terrified that my plans wouldn't work.

I bent down and examined the demon's face, wondering how I'd ever been afraid of the bloody mess by my feet, but I suppressed any feelings of triumph or success. One small victory meant nothing if there were still others to take his place.

My problems were far from over, but I'd find a way to make them end.





How I was Murdered by a Fox Monster