Published July 08, 2017 by

Memories of a Soul in the Underworld Chapter 31

Story Summary

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.

Another Soul Market

Two hours later.

"You have to go back there!" I screamed as two Soul Market agents carried me down a dark stone corridor. There wasn't a window in sight, dim lamps lit the way. The only sounds were distant screams, and the splash of boots in the puddles on the floor.

"He killed her!" I desperately struggled against their hold. "That bastard killed her! You have to do something!"

"Yeah, yeah," muttered the large mortal holding my feet. I once slipped a foot out of his grip and kicked him in the face. The evidence of my success was a small mark on his cheek, but his hold had since become unbreakable.

But that didn't stop me from trying.

"Told you we should have gagged him when we had the chance," laughed the young man holding my upper body. That guy's brown shoulder length hair looked like it'd never been combed, and his untucked shirt was covered with stains. Suits and ties were apparently no longer essential for becoming a Soul Market employee.

We moved past cages full of washed out souls who quietly sat in the dark. A few of them curiously wandered to the steel bars to watch me fruitlessly struggle and scream, but none of them offered any support. Probably just wondering what sort of idiot would even attempt fighting back.

The two men finally dragged me before an old man holding a clipboard at the end of the hall. He was ticking boxes with a pencil as he examined one cage.

The bastard holding my feet let go, allowing my heels to crash against the floor. He then walked away while hesitantly rubbing his cheek, leaving only the young guy to hold me in place.

I stamped my bare feet against the young man's boots with all my might, but he didn't even flinch, like I wasn't the first crazy soul he had to hold in place.

"Hey, Mr. Manager," said the young guy to the old man. "This wacko snapped and attacked his master with a vase this afternoon."

"He deserved it!" I cried. "He murdered his own wife!"

"Got him good too." The young man continued like I wasn't even there. "This professor had shit tons of blood pouring out of his head. It was all over the room and everything."

"He beat her to death in that room!"

"You should have been there, man. That dude was so stunned that he didn't even ask for a refund."

"Why aren't you listening to me!"

"Just says that he never wants to see this one's face again. Pretty sweet for us, right? The refunds department is always so anal about paperwork."

At this point I'd had enough of them ignoring me, and chomped my teeth straight into the young guy's arm. He cried out in pain and immediately let go. I was free for one glorious moment, before he brought his elbow straight down on my head and slammed me into the floor.

"Hey, Mr. Manager," he said. "Don't you just hate it when they can't shut the fuck up?"

His manager finally looked up from the clipboard, glanced at me on the floor, then let out a groan.

"I've had enough of this shit for one day." The old man massaged his forehead. "Just take him downstairs."

"Are you sure?" asked the young man. "Bob's been working wonders with that nut job they brought in last week. Even managed to get him in a bath and everything. Maybe I could ask him to give this guy a go?"

"No," the manager moaned. "Just get rid of him already."

"As you wish, man."

The young man took hold of my elbow and yanked me to my feet. He dragged me kicking and screaming down the hall until we reached a steel door at the end. The young man shoved it open with his elbow then threw me inside.

"Delivery!" he sang out.

I tripped and tumbled down two dozen stairs before crashing in a pile at the bottom. Face pressed against stone. Limbs contorted in unnatural angles before they quickly slipped back into place.

I looked up to find myself in a large stone room stained black from mold and grime. There were already four souls hanging from rusty sets of chains on the wall.

There was an old man, a boy no older than twelve, a man dressed in a damp newspaper suit, and one more guy with long unkempt hair who was wearing nothing but a pair of frayed cotton shorts.

In the center of the room stood two demons. One red, the other green. Both with thick black gloves up to their elbows, black aprons, and tinted black glasses that covered most of their faces.

There was one soul between them. A middle aged woman with short hair and no clothes. The green demon held her in place, while the red one held a bright white stone beside her face.

"This has to be a joke, right?" the red demon snapped. "Another one? Ten minutes before knock off?"

"Manager's orders." The young man skipped down the stairs. "You know how we have to keep those guys upstairs happy."

"Fine," the red demon groaned and pointed to a set of chains next to the soul in the paper suit. "Go hang him up over there."

The young man grabbed hold of my wrists and dragged me across the room. I dug my heels into the stone floor, but there was nothing to grab onto and he soon had me against the wall. He then pressed one knee into my stomach to hold me in place as he used his free hands to tie the chains around my arms.

I decided to stop struggling and try a different approach.

"Please," I desperately begged. "My old master, back in that house, he had a wife. A lovely, kind, beautiful wife. He promised to take care of her, but instead he hit her and locked her away like a prisoner. This evening he went too far and beat her to death. A guy like that can't possibly be allowed to walk the streets after what he did."

The young man let out a sigh as he finished tying me in place. He took a step back, and for one moment, I thought that his grim expression meant that he cared. "I do have to admit, that's one real sob story."

"I tol-"

"But you're forgetting one thing."


His mouth broke out into a morbid grin. "I don't care."

And with that he turned and walked away.

"Hey!" I cried as he skipped up the stairs whistling an irritating tune. "Come back here!"

I screamed out profanities, but my words were useless and he soon dashed out the door.

I growled in frustration and angrily tugged on the chains holding my arms. They clanged against the stone wall, but refused to budge.

I was an idiot for thinking that they'd ever listen. I was a fool for hoping that my murderous master would face justice in Hell.

The soul in the paper suit turned to face me with a giant smile. "How nice of you to join us," he said. "I was just telling these other fine gentlemen about how much more enjoyable it is to pass on with new friends."

Those words unnerved me, but I didn't have long to think about them before the screaming started. Agonized high pitched cries of pain that echoed throughout the room.

I looked up to see the red demon pressing the bright white stone against the soul before him. The woman dug her nails into his black gloved arm with all her might as she screamed.

The side of her head glowed red for one moment before it began to disintegrate like smoke.

The demon continued pressing the stone against her ghostly white body, which began slowly disappearing. In one moment her head was gone, followed by her neck, chest, and limbs. Within a few minutes, all that remained of the soul was a thin trail of smoke. Like the remains of a fire that had just been extinguished.

I stared at that bright white stone in horror. Too terrified to even flinch.

Until that moment I thought my body was invincible. That nothing could destroy me, and that all souls could exist forever.

I never believed Alphonse's story of Anya being erased, but all of a sudden the evidence was right there.

Next chapter: No one really lives forever in Hell!

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