The Soul Game

by McQueen, K. T.

  With one slow leathery beat of its wings, it vanished from the room, the screaming soul clasped firmly in its clawed hand.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE: MAËL

  Mike wobbled.

  ‘Careful boy,’ Sparky chuckled steadying him. ‘So many things you don’t know. Can’t believe that isn’t one of them.’

  ‘I can do that?’ Mike asked, feeling a little sick. Wondering if he wanted to.

  They were in the corridor outside Mike’s apartment door.

  ‘That and so much more,’ Sparky encouraged. ‘I guess I’ll have to educate you. Someone has to do it, or there’ll be Demons getting ideas above their station.’

  Trying to clear his head Mike only partially took in what Sparky was saying. He put his key in the lock with a little prompting and opened the door.

  ‘Hey babe, I did a shop, just putting it all away. Would you like something to eat?’ Joy stood up from the fridge and noticed Sparky. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Joy, this is Sparky. He owns a bookshop in the older part of town. I invited him over until the storm passes,’ Mike explained.

  ‘The war you know,’ Sparky said in a voice older than the one he’d been using moments ago. Mike looked at him in surprise. ‘The noise, it’s so loud, like the bombs.’

  Mike was sure Sparky’s eyes were watery too. And he’d lost a couple of inches in height.

  ‘Oh, well you’re more than welcome to wait it out here. Can I get you a drink or something to eat?’ Joy smiled.

  ‘Thank you, most kind of you, my dear. I would be delighted with a spot of tea and a biscuit if you have them.’

  ‘Oh, I think I can rustle some up.’ She was in her element and pottered back to the kitchen as Mike showed Sparky to the sofa.

  Mike listened as Sparky regaled them with few war stories. Then told them about his wife, sadly passed. And of course, the big ginger cat. The thunder shook the windows, and the lightning threw shadows around the apartment. Sparky made sure to jump at every disturbance as if it were trying on his old heart.

  Joy and Sparky talked and Mike found himself sitting back and watching their animated faces. When the storm showed no sign of stopping, and the rain hadn’t yet begun, Joy got up sadly.

  ‘I’m afraid I have to go to work. My shift starts in half an hour. It’s been so lovely talking with you Sparky. I hope you’ll come over again.’ She smiled.

  ‘Thank you, it’s been lovely talking to you too. I’ve been so distracted I’ve barely noticed a single thunder clap.’ He waited for her to leave before turning to Mike, without the watery eyes, elderly voice, or surprising shortness. ‘Wow, my back needs a good crack now.’

  He twisted and turned and popped the bubbles in his joints loudly.

  ‘Ah, that’s better.’ Satisfied, he looked around the room. Mike could feel Sparky’s darkness grow and build. He hadn’t noticed it before, most Demons embraced it. Something like fire flickered across the surface of his skin.

  ‘It’s an old thing. More than one I think.’ He was concentrating. His voice had changed too, deepened and lengthened.

  Mike didn’t interrupt, just listened and watched. He’d seen plenty of Demons in their true form, but never one like this. Rather than abandoning the humanness to the demon it was a controlled collision of the two. Mike was curious what Sparky’s full Demon would look like. The thunder and lightning rattled the windows and danced with the shadows.

  ‘They tried to get in but have learnt they can’t.’ He wasn’t moving, and his eyes were closed. He was reading the energy. Not a skill Mike was aware of possessing, although he’d had insights that surprised him. ‘Watching. I think they’re reporting back to someone.’

  He opened his eyes and stared around the storm darkened room. Mike tried to see what he was seeing.

  ‘There’s some artistry in your symbols. I know one that will block their sight which you haven’t used. Prevent them from seeing anything in this apartment.’

  Mike held out his arm and a long thin blade. Sparky laughed. Laughed so hard he had to lean against the wall to get his breath. It sounded like it was rolling over charcoal in the hottest part of the fire.

  ‘Your mother knew your blood was stronger than hers, but I guess she never knew the benefits of having two different sources creating the symbols. Much more power that way.’ He managed to say. ‘She should have stayed with her own kind to complete her education.’

  He pulled a stoppered glass bottle from a cord around his neck and a writing implement from the inside pocket of the coat.

  ‘Now watch, with your Demon eyes, and see what I do.’ He walked to the windows, drawing the biggest, simplest symbol Mike had ever seen. A film flowed outwards, a milky blueness, to cover each pane. The symbol dimmed till it was almost entirely unseen. ‘It will flare up again if any come to watch, a deterrent and a warning.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Mike said.

  ‘So what are you going to do?’ Sparky asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’ He shook his head. ‘I feel like something’s going on I should understand, but don’t.’

  ‘I suspect that’s why you’re more comfortable living amongst the humans. Many Demons think there should be rules against it. Whilst others think it’s a great way to get them to gamble their souls away.’ He chuckled. ‘But I meant about your job.’

  ‘Oh, I think I’m going to quit. Find something else.’ He sighed. ‘It doesn’t sound like they want to help people, only profit from them. Selling the idea that they can have anything they want.’

  ‘It’s not as simple as the original game. It was always done with honesty, they made it completely clear what the contestant was entering into.’ Sparky was pulling his coat on. ‘Now it’s all twisted up with marketing, I suppose it’s because people are seeking an easy way to have everything.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Mike was getting fed up of feeling like he was on the edge of having all the information. ‘It sounds more like a bargain than a self-help book.’

  ‘It is a bargain. It used to be a game, the humans were given plenty of opportunities to back out, stop playing, change their minds. The old ones were very insistent that the humans knew what they were giving up.’ Sparky checked his pockets. ‘When it first began it was a straight up trade, your soul for the thing you wanted – and you had to be able to summon the Demon in the first place, and boy was there some stigma attached to that.’

  He pulled out an old set of iron keys and jingled them in his hand.

  ‘If they backed out they lost their soul, but they would also never be able to summon the Demon again.’ He grinned. ‘Then, they introduced a new rule. If you agreed to play the game, you would be giving up your soul. You were gambling it. If you won you got to keep it whilst you still lived.’

  ‘I sort of remember the game, but I didn’t get to watch it often,’ Mike said.

  ‘Well, now, if you can get five other people to play you get to play again, with their souls as your collateral!’ Sparky went on. ‘People are flocking to the book; it solves their problems much faster than working through them the old-fashioned way. Want a new body? Play the game. Want fame and fortune? Play the game. Want to find your true love? Play the game.’

  Mike didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Only there’s a catch, you don’t get to choose the gift you get, they’ve taken away your ability to negotiate. There are ten life gifts, you pick a colour at the beginning – the one you’re drawn to – and if you complete the game or tasks as they’re known, you get the life gift associated with that colour. If it wasn’t the one you wanted, tough shit. Invite five other people to play and you can have another go.’

  ‘They’re making the humans damn each other’s souls to improve their own lives?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do they know; the readers I mean?’ Mike asked.

  ‘Yes, it’s written several times before the book begins, before the tasks begin. As many times as they could get it in they put it in. But people want the life c
hanging thing, they don’t care what it takes.’

  ‘Aw hell,’ Mike muttered.

  ‘Exactly. Look, come by tomorrow and I’ll explain more about who you are. There’s a book I need to dig out. You might be able to put a stop to it.’ Sparky patted his shoulder. ‘But don’t worry about it tonight, they don’t know you’re quitting.’

  ‘Sure,’ Mike agreed. Then the air shimmered and Sparky was gone.

  The apartment seemed huge and very empty suddenly. How could he put a stop to the soul taking self-help book? He was a nobody.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO: GREEN

  Task: Convince someone else to do things for you today, everything that you can get someone else to do for you then you should let them. And remember no saying thank you.

  Jason woke early to get on the only computer in the flat. It was slow and tucked into a corner of the living room. His new business partner, Max, poured himself a cuppa and sat in the only other chair available. Then realising he had more chance of sorting the website than Jason, he shoved him over and took control. Jason was sure this wouldn’t count towards his task for the day, he hadn’t convinced Max to do anything. In fact, it was probably the other way around.

  As lunch time crawled around another flatmate, Craig, emerged and announced he was going to the chippy.

  ‘Be the best flatmate ever and get me a bag of chips whilst you’re there,’ Jason told him leaning back in his chair.

  ‘What?’ Craig asked. He had to step back into the room to look at Jason. Jason never asked any of them to get him anything. ‘You want me to get you a bag of chips?’

  ‘Yeah, with vinegar.’

  ‘I suppose you want a sausage with it as well?’ Craig raised an eyebrow.

  ‘That would be awesome.’ Jason realised he was quite hungry. ‘And don’t take too long mate I’m starving.’

  ‘Right, sausage and chips it is then.’ He wandered out shaking his head.

  ‘You must be feeling good after last night,’ Max muttered as his phone rang. ‘Hi Cherry.’

  As Max conversed with Cherry, Jason moved to the computer to see what they had so far. Max was good. His computer courses more than just tinkering. How this guy wasn’t building websites for a living was beyond Jason. He could be making millions. Well, maybe. It looked like a professional company website. There were even testimonials and Jason could hear Max asking Cherry for another one.

  As he got off the phone Craig returned with the sausage and chips and Jason tucked in.

  ‘This place is a pit,’ said Craig’s girlfriend an hour later as she let herself in. ‘Do you know it smells worse than the bins outside?’

  ‘Feel free to clean it top to bottom anytime you like,’ Jason half-joked. He knew none of them would do it.

  ‘Are you serious?’ she asked, eyes wide and eager. ‘You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for one of you to say that.’

  ‘Are you nuts?’ Craig asked her. ‘You can’t tidy our flat.’

  ‘Why not? You said we could have my parents around for a meal and there’s no way I’m cooking in that kitchen.’ She prodded him.

  ‘Well go for it then.’ Craig laughed, he didn’t care if someone else tidied. ‘I’m not stopping you.’

  ‘No, you’re helping. I’m gonna need your manly strength to get off the worst of the dirt.’ She hooked her finger under his collar and pulled him along, pulling out her phone with the other hand.

  ‘She called me manly,’ Craig told the others.

  ‘She said you’d be cleaning,’ Jason replied.

  They could hear her talking to Stacey, their other flat mate’s girlfriend, this was a huge thing.

  ‘No, he’s still in bed,’ they heard her say, as Craig pleaded with them to save him. They grinned and shook their heads.

  ‘Sorry, we have business stuff to do,’ Max told him.

  ‘Lots to take care of,’ Jason added stuffing another chip in his mouth.

  They joined a few band forums, checked out what they needed to do to officially set up a business, and watched Craig, his girlfriend, and Stacey (who had arrived with cleaning products) move things, clean things, bin things, and remind them what colour the carpets were.

  Jason didn’t lift a finger of complaint when they moved into his room and laughed when Stacey came out holding a pair of discarded undies on the end of a snooker cue.

  ‘What the hell?’ asked Paul, emerging from his bedroom as she passed his door.

  ‘Get dressed you slob, and tidy your room or there will be no hanky-panky for you tonight,’ she told him. The look on his face was epic.

  ‘What the fuck is going on?’ he asked Jason and Max, following her.

  ‘Jason told Beth she could tidy the flat if she wanted to, so she rang Stacey, and roped Craig in. I say roped because he practically has a noose around his neck already. Apparently, Craig told Beth that they could have her parents around for a meal and that she could cook,’ Max explained.

  ‘Are we invited?’ Paul asked, warily as Stacey stalked back towards him with a handful of black bags and rubber gloves.

  ‘No idea mate,’ Jason told him.

  ‘Cause I don’t see why we need to clean if we’re not invited.’

  ‘You’re invited,’ came the yell from the other room. ‘And if you do a good enough job we can have a regular meal night. Of course, it will mean you have to keep the flat tidy!’

  ‘Right,’ was all Paul could manage as he was shoved into his room to ‘get on with it’.

  Even Max relented and went to help, sorting out the under stairs cupboard, Jason suspected it was about getting out of the way. He could hear him on the phone below the open window. Jason just watched, accepted the mugs of tea handed to him and lifted his feet when instructed. Even when the guys suggested he helped, Beth would tell them no, he’d been the one to say she could clean the flat, so he got to sit back and relax. Besides, his bedroom wasn’t anywhere near as dirty as the others were.

  He did reach across to the phone and order a large pizza. He was buying it for himself but they would be welcome to a slice. Max appeared in the door with the pizza, having paid for it. Jason sat for a full minute just watching him put it on the table and get plates out of the now clean and organised kitchen.

  ‘Stick a couple of slices on a plate for me,’ he told him and Max did it.

  ‘Sorry mate, tell me that again.’ Jason accepted the plate without saying thanks. Realising he hadn’t heard a word Max had said.

  Max called the others before repeating what he’d said. As he was handed yet another drink Jason found it hard to focus on the conversation. He wanted to know what his next task was. But it was too early for bed and the others, almost done with the cleaning, wanted to get a few drinks in and play cards. It was a rare night when they all got together so he didn’t object when they dealt him in.

  Task: You remember that thing that that person did that you never forgave them for? Today you must get your revenge and mean it.

  Do not forget any of the rules as they were laid out for you at the beginning of the game. You have not been told to break them so you must not.

  Getting up before everyone else he ran a bath (in their sparkly clean bathroom) and soaked as he read the next chapter. He kept coming back to the task. Struggling to think of that one thing someone did to him that he had never forgiven them for. He wasn’t the kind of guy to hold grudges. Not like his cousin. Although he had forgiven her for not forgiving him the second he began reading the book. Or maybe this was her revenge. He sat up, almost giving the bathroom floor another impromptu cleaning. Maybe she’d played the game and knew more than he did

  Dismissing the idea, it had been one stupid doll a long time ago, he lay back again and read on. The next player. The one that didn’t make it. He was a little nervous about those creatures. They sounded like more than just the writer’s overactive imagination. It was just a game, right? But if it wasn’t real why was he doing it? Why was he playing? He laughed at himself and i
t echoed.

  This game was already improving things for him. This book that would get him riches, or the love of his life, or eternal bliss, or whatever it turned out to be, was already proving to be lucky. It was already changing his life. He was sure it was for the better. He’d had free food, and got into a club for free, and had a clean flat, and somehow bypassed getting a job and started a business instead. And all because of the book. How could he complete today’s task?

  The book dropped to the floor with a thud. Waking him with a scream as his dream filtered into reality and he saw the creature, wings unfolded, on the ceiling.

  ‘Everything alright in there?’ came a yell.

  ‘Yeah, dozed off, nightmare,’ he called back, his mind fuzzy, his eyes searching the corners of the room. Had it been real?

  ‘Get out then before you drown.’

  ‘Right.’ He climbed out and wrapped himself in a newly washed towel. And then stood there, hairs on end, goosebumps on his skin, a prickling on the back of his neck. Someone or something was watching him. The screeching noise on the window made him scream again and he spun around to see the window cleaner’s squeegee make progress down the frosted pane. He wondered how many times a day someone screamed at the window cleaner.

  He pulled the blind down and got dressed. Dumping the towel in the empty hamper, then grabbing the book, he went to stash it back in his room. He’d taken to hiding it under a floorboard in the built-in cupboard, which was a good thing after the tidying that had gone on the day before. It was his book.

  ‘What on earth were you screaming about?’ Stacey asked as he wandered into the kitchen glancing behind him. His green socks with the Christmas pattern the only green thing he could find not already in the wash.