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 dragged the demon's unconscious body back to an abandoned shack I'd passed once before. The old timber walls were rotting, and there were gaps between the boards, but it was enough to protect us from the fierce snow storm outside.
Others had been there before me. Haphazardly overturning furniture and ripping open the few cupboards and drawers. Shattering plates and glasses across the dirt floor. What could have once been a table had been hacked to pieces to create a fire in the middle of the room, leaving just enough to recreate a small blaze of my own.
I needed the heat to keep my prisoner alive. The demon wasn't allowed to die until I got what I wanted.
I pulled up a wonky chair and sat back to watch him. The one who I hoped could change everything. My prisoner was bound to a chair using strips of my shirt. Hands positioned out before him, right where I could see. His fingers were bound most tightly of all (so that he couldn't move them for spells) but I didn't doubt that he could still pull off plenty of tricks without having to move.
My stalker was younger than I imagined, perhaps early twenties. Blue skin smooth with few wrinkles. One stark white horn was poking out from his head while the other looked to have broken off. His mouth was wide open as saliva dripped down his shirt. Exposed teeth yellow and rotten like he'd never been taught better habits. Blood still dripped from his head, even though I'd wrapped a dirty piece of cloth around the wound to stop the flow.
"Not much of a looker, is he?" said a voice from behind me, and I turned to see imaginary Alistair looking over my shoulder. There was a shawl wrapped around his head, much like the delusion I once saw in the desert. "Now that's going to scar. Looks like he won't be forgetting you in a hurry."
"Good," I muttered back.
"What's the plan, Ethan?" he asked.
"I question him."
"And what makes you think that he'll talk."
"He will." There was confidence there that I needed to back up. "If I use whatever means necessary."
Alistair sucked in his breath. "And here I was thinking that you despised torture and enslavement. How quick you are to sink to their level, dear Ethan."
"He deserves it," I snapped while trying to suppress any lingering guilt. "He's one of them."
"And yet you barely know him."
"He's been stalking me for weeks, Alistair!" I barked. Exasperated with his skewed logic and lack of understanding. "Trying to drag me back to be a fucking slave. If it wasn't him in this chair, then it would be me. That's the way things work in this world."
Alistair stood there staring at me coldly with those bright green eyes. "If telling yourself that makes you feel better, then by all means, go right ahead."
He was right, but it was already too late. I'd gone too far to ever back down.
"What would you know," I angrily muttered. "You're not even real. The real you wouldn't have taken his side."
Imaginary Alistair laughed. "Oh, Ethan dear, it's been so long that I doubt you can correctly recall the real me at all."
I glanced away, incapable of looking at his face, but when I returned my gaze, he was already gone.
My shaking hands clenched into fists. What did one stray delusion know? Of course I didn't want to lower myself to the Soul Market's level, but what other choice did I have? I had to sacrifice what little humanity I had left, in order to reach my goal.
With a moan the demon began to stir. He gradually cracked open his eyes, blinking once or twice, before his mind caught up and he jumped back in the chair. Frantically struggling against the fabric, tugging on his arms which refused to slip free. His mouth flew open, spewing out words which sounded like the beginning of a spell, but I quickly slapped my hand across his face to shut him up.
I ripped a burning coal out of the fire with my bare hand, and menacingly held it before him.
"If you so much as begin to chant a spell again, then I'm burning your face off," I yelled.
He ceased moving and eyed me wearily, no doubt having heard enough to know I wasn't bluffing.
"What in Hell do you think you're doing?" he angrily hissed through clenched teeth.
"I'm here to talk," I said while trying my best to sound calm and confident.
"About what?" he snapped.
"Everything. Starting with how the Soul Market works."
The demon growled. "I have nothing to say to a soul."
"Really?" I waved the coal in his face. "Then how would you like me to set you on fire."
The demon laughed. Shoulders violently shaking. His face had a hint of craziness which made me suspect that I wasn't the only one who went mad on the mountain.
"And what's gonna stop you from killing me anyway?"
"My word."
"Your word? As if I'd ever trust the words of a fucking lunatic soul who murders people?"
"Because you'll be different. I promise," I said gently with the kindest smile that I could master, but it did nothing but further convince him that I was insane.
The demon leaned forward. Face stone cold and eyes full of hatred. "I ain't giving you shit. You crazy piece of scum."
I sighed. "I had a feeling that you'd say that."
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a Knife. It was five inches long, rusty and slightly bent, but it was enough. I then grabbed one of his wrists, and held the blade above it. The demon instantly began chanting a spell (the disobedient prick) until I shoved the knife right into his hand.
"Fuck!" he screamed. The spell instantly forgotten.
I placed both my hands on the knife hilt and used my strength to slowly press it down further. If they all thought I was crazy, then why not live up to their expectations?
"Still don't want to talk?"
"Wait! Wait!" he cried amongst the profanities and screams. "I'll talk! I'll talk!"
I stopped pushing the knife and sat back in the chair. Eyeing him warily just in case he decided to pull something.
"What do you wanna know?" he breathed through the pain.
"How you managed to find me."
"Tracks."
"Liar," I hissed.
"I ain't lying!"
"It's rather difficult to find tracks after a blizzard, don't you think?"
"I'm very good at tracking."
I raised my hand towards the knife.
"It's my job!" he cried with panic. "I've done it my entire life!"
I pressed the knife down further.
The demon screamed in pain. "It's the truth, damn it! I swear!"
Part of me almost believed him. Almost. But I'd been in the Underworld long enough to know that the Soul Market's methods went far beyond basic tracking.
"How about we try something else," I growled. "Tell me why I sold my soul!"
He winced in pain. "Money."
"Liar."
"I'm not lying!" He roared. "I read your record and it was there!"
There was something different about his voice, but I refused to accept those words as the truth.
"What?" he laughed. "Does that come as a shock? Did you think that someone like you would have done it for something else? Don't kid yourself, idiot. You were just another dirty pauper who'd sell themselves away for a handful of change."
"Stop it!" I hissed.
"You were too stupid to even write your own freakin name. You signed your contract using a fingerprint of your own blood."
"I said stop it!"
He shut up for a moment before he thought of something new and stupid. "I still have a copy of it, you know," he said with fake sincerity, tilting his head to the side. "Out there in my other bag. You can go out there and check if you want."
"As if I'd ever fall for such a pathetic trick."
"Fine, soul. Suit yourself!"
The room fell silent and we sat there angrily glaring at each other. I was trying desperately to plan my next move (without letting on) until I was hit by another question.
"How do they do it?" I asked while trying not to let my curiosity show. "How do they bring in people from Earth?"
"Magic," he grunted.
"Ha! That has to be one of your most pathetic lies so far. Even I know that it's impossible to use magic on Earth."
"What would you know," he snapped. "As long as there's a connection, then anything is possible."
"Whatever," I hissed. "How can I go back there?"
He laughed. The sort of unnerving cackle which let me know that I wouldn't like the answer. "Back? There ain't any going back for you. Souls can't exist in that world. Without a real body you'll just disappear. But by all means, go right ahead. You'd be saving the rest of us a Hell of a lot of trouble."
I kicked him in the shins and reached for the knife, pushing it down further.
The demon cried out in pain. "What the fuck is your problem? I'm telling the truth!"
"How did you find me!" I yelled back.
"I already told you!"
"You told me lies!"
"It's the truth!"
"I've been in this world for centuries," I spat. "Serving masters with abilities you could only dream of. I ravaged their libraries and plundered any knowledge I could. So I don't doubt for one moment that you've been using magic to track me around Hell. Now tell me what it is."
He clenched his jaw, and I could see a guy who'd never back down. "I'll die before I tell you anything."
"Then so be it." I said coldly.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading so far. I already have the next few chapters written out as a draft, so I'll try and post them soon. Feel free to leave any comments. I'd love to hear what you think of this story so far. What do you think will happen next?
You've reached the last chapter I've written so far! The next chapter should be out within a few weeks. You can follow me here on Facebook for all the latest story updates!
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Other stories by M.C.Queen
How I was Murdered by a Fox Monster
Summary: Daisuke Matsumoto here! I see you picked up my book. I knew you would because it's awesome, inspirational, life changing, and it's all about me!
Let’s start from the beginning. I was adopted by an old man who named me after his dead son, creepy right? He used to tell me stories of monsters who pose and animals and attack humans. I thought he made it all up to scare me, but I just met a group of exorcists who confirmed my worst fear, monsters are real! If that wasn’t enough to freak me out I discovered Grandpa was up to some shady stuff, Sis has secrets stashed away, and any hot chick could be a monster plotting to rip my insides out.
God must hate me, because I don’t know my own past, my real name, and……Akito? Hey, what’s up with the knife Akito?
Sample Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six
Let’s start from the beginning. I was adopted by an old man who named me after his dead son, creepy right? He used to tell me stories of monsters who pose and animals and attack humans. I thought he made it all up to scare me, but I just met a group of exorcists who confirmed my worst fear, monsters are real! If that wasn’t enough to freak me out I discovered Grandpa was up to some shady stuff, Sis has secrets stashed away, and any hot chick could be a monster plotting to rip my insides out.
God must hate me, because I don’t know my own past, my real name, and……Akito? Hey, what’s up with the knife Akito?
Sample Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six
