Published July 20, 2018 by

Reflections on Writing "Memories of a Soul in the Underworld."

I finally finished my free story Memories of a Soul in the Underworld,  so I thought I’d take some time to reflect on the story and the writing process. Here is some insight into the writing process and my thoughts on the story.

Story themes

For me, the point of the story is someone overcoming their terrible circumstances and past tramas to reach a goal. Over the years I encountered many people who would say I wanted to do this, but I didn’t have the opportunity, or I tried once, but I failed. Sometimes these were people who could achieved their goal, if only they tried a little harder, or still could, but they didn’t believe that it was possible. If my story could inspire someone like that to reach for their goal, then I think that writing it may have been worth it.
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Published July 19, 2018 by

Memories of a Soul in the Underworld Chapter 53

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.

I can only imagine how Lucas must have felt when he returned to consciousness several hours later. The idiot groaned pathetically before his eyes fluttered open. First dumbly examining his own lap, then the ropes binding him to the chair, before his head shot up in horror. Frantically surveying the room that had been transformed beyond recognition.

Lucas' sad excuse for furniture had only been in the way, so I shoved it all against one wall to create an open space. The moldy carpet was next to go. Replaced with a sprawl of black insignias which spiraled across the floor and halfway up the walls. Crammed into every available corner until the wooden floorboards were transformed into a sea of black scribbles.

Crumbling demon bones and ancient artifacts lay woven in amongst the ink. Each one with its own unique effect to improve my original spell.

And then there was me. Standing in the center of the room with my back turned towards him. Covered in black ink while sharpening the idiot's largest kitchen knife. I took great pleasure in watching the blade shine with each stroke.

Lucas sucked in his breath with terror, then finally gained the confidence to speak.

"Tulip! What's the meaning of this!" he arrogantly spat out. As though the fool actually possessed an inch of power. "I demand that you release me at once!"

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