The Soul Game

by McQueen, K. T.

  ‘You can’t stop playing the game.’ He grabbed her hands and held them around the book. ‘You’re playing for your soul, and whether you finish or not you lose your soul, if you don’t finish you don’t even get anything for it and a creature will come and pull your soul from you.’

  ‘You’re crazy,’ she said trying to pull away. Laughing. ‘A creature.’

  He didn’t let go.

  ‘I’m serious, promise me that no matter what happens, between us, you won’t stop playing.’ He looked her in the eyes.

  She wasn’t sure. Staring back at him she frowned, sneered, and pulled away.

  ‘Promise me,’ he said.

  ‘I hate you,’ she snapped throwing the book into the bag.

  ‘I’m sorry Joy, I really am. I love you and they drugged me. They didn’t want me to figure out the book. You shouldn’t trust Stan either.’ It occurred to him that Stan had no reason at all for being at the apartment, he could have found Mike anywhere. ‘Are you taking Bombardier?’

  ‘I’ll come back for him when I’m settled.’ She sniffed, looking at the cat eyeing them from the top of the shelves. They’d formed a strange kind of bond.

  ‘Where will you stay?’ he asked, hoping.

  ‘I’m not going to tell you. I don’t want you turning up and pestering me. I’ll call if I want to talk. Don’t phone or message me, I need to think things through. I thought you were the one, you know. I really did,’ she said picking up the bag and looking like she might give in. ‘I love you.’

  ‘I love you too,’ he said as she shoved past him and left.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE: BLACK

  Task: Phone the person who you least want to talk to and have the conversation that you know you should have already had.

  Why did it always keep coming back to the ex? He would be the very last person she would ever want to talk to again. Although she probably needed to have words with him about what he’d done. They’d never said anything about it. After she’d dumped him he’d done all that stuff and she’d felt awful but never had it out with him. She knew deep down that she had to get it sorted. She had to get it resolved so she could get on with her life. How did the book know?

  She had nothing planned, no work to do, no place to be, and yet somehow she had to commit all the deadly sins again. So today was hers, just hers, and she would damn well do as she pleased. Besides she couldn’t ring him until he finished work and that wouldn’t be until late tonight.

  By the time she was confident enough to pick up the phone she had committed at least five of the deadly sins. Lust was a fun one, followed by a giant-sized portion of sloth, and then a raid through the kitchen to eat everything sweet. She already felt envy just at the thought of her ex. She envied his lack of feeling, the way no one blamed him for what had happened. The way he got a normal life without the ridicule she’d suffered. Of course, he’d done it to her, but no one believed that.

  Maybe they would if she got this phone call right.

  ‘We need to talk,’ she told him.

  ‘Aw come on! Are you ringing to have a go at me? You need another CD bringing around?’

  ‘We need to talk about what you did and how you’re going to make it better.’ She listened to him laugh.

  ‘Why should I do anything?’

  ‘Because if you don’t I’m going to sue you.’ She said it as calmly as she could.

  ‘Don’t be stupid you can’t sue me, besides I have nothing.’

  ‘Of course, I can. You pretended to be me. You took pictures of me without permission and showed them to the world.’ There was a pause as he took this in.

  ‘You don’t want to do that; you’ll have to tell everyone everything in court.’ He sneered.

  ‘Yes, I will. But since you have made everyone think I’ve done dreadful things already, made my parents disown me, cause people to shun me in the streets, I’m sure it won’t matter. Nothing I tell them will be as bad as what you said happened. And let’s face it, nothing could make it any worse.’ She surprised herself with how calm she was.

  ‘That’s not true though, is it?’ he asked a little less confident. ‘You can’t really sue me for all that. Besides what do I have for you to take?’

  ‘Your house. Your money. Your car. I don’t know how it works but you have stuff. Besides, what will your girlfriend think when she finds out the truth?’ okay, that came out a little snidely. ‘I’m going to take everything; just like you did to me.’

  ‘You’re such a bitch, Kelly,’ he snapped.

  ‘No, you’re the bitch. Look what you did. Look how bad you fucked up my life. I was stood on the bridge just over a week ago, ready to jump. You put me there.’

  ‘But you didn’t jump.’

  ‘Someone offered me a chance. To change everything,’ she said. ‘And tomorrow you’ll begin to pay for everything you’ve done to me. One way or another.’

  ‘Are you threatening me?’

  ‘Obviously numb skull. So, you have two choices, do nothing and get sued for everything. Or apologise where everyone can see.’ She felt herself sneering, knowing he wouldn’t want to do any of it.

  He hung up.

  She wasn’t sure whether to be happy or upset. In the end, she went with anger, furious, explosive anger. Sure, she screamed as she threw the phone across the caravan. She was so angry she ended up sobbing on the cold floor until she fell asleep.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO: MAËL

  He collapsed in a heap. What was he supposed to do? Sparky was gone, Stan wasn’t an actual friend, Ginger was a no way no how. And his one last remaining tether to this human world had just been ripped from him.

  He let the tears run. There was no clarity, just noise. He had no idea what to do about anything and no one to talk to.

  Bombardier must have started feeling sorry for him, coming to curl up on his chest and purr.

  ‘Sorry, I’m so sorry,’ he muttered, scratching Bombardier’s ears. Calming a little.

  ‘Meow’ Bombardier said.

  Mike gave him a good energetic scratch which juggled his collar, revealing a little time capsule like charm.

  ‘How strange,’ he said to the now not quite so impressed cat. Mike unclipped it from the collar, before Bombardier took a swipe at him, and went back to scratching his ears and stroking his back, the charm held in the other hand. Mike wasn’t a very good cat scratcher and it didn’t take long for Bombardier to go find something better to do. Besides Mike wasn’t sobbing anymore.

  Mike unscrewed the capsule and tapped out the tightly rolled scroll. He was expecting to find a name, address, and phone number in case the cat got lost. But what he got was much more useful.

  Dear Mike,

  If you are reading this, it means that something happened to me and Bombardier has taken up residence in your home. He is a Demon cat and chooses his own owner. My younger sister, Astrid, will take over the bookshop as soon as the proper rights have been observed. You should know that your mother was my niece.

  Sparky.

  Mike was shocked, he hadn’t known any of his mother’s family, or even that she had any living. When they’d gone into hiding they’d hid from everybody who might have known who she was for their own safety. But now he knew that he did have family out there, and he’d met, and got to know, one only recently. He hoped that wasn’t the reason for Sparky’s death. And there was someone who would take care of the bookshop and Sparky’s will, all Mike had to do was take care of the cat. He chucked the note on the coffee table, along with the mess he hadn’t cleaned up yet. What did it matter anyway? He’d lost the thing he’d been fighting for.

  A stray tear rolled down his face and he brushed it away, angry. What kind of man was he to be sat here crying about everything instead of doing something about it? He forced himself to get up and clean up the mess. It was going to take more than elbow grease and soap to get those stains out. He could go to the shop for stain remover, or he could…. he bit his lip and waved his hand in the comp
lex motion his mother had once shown him. This was Eclectic witch magic and he wasn’t sure it would work. He’d always suspected she’d been stood behind him doing it herself so he felt better about the mess he’d made. He’d tried it once or twice afterwards with no effect.

  He put his will behind it. He repeated the motion. He held his breath. And with a gentle hissing, the long dried tea turned to a rising mist that dissipated somewhere above his head. He could taste cold tea in the air when he took a breath. He was glad it hadn’t been something the cat had left for him. But, as he carried the cup and plate to the kitchen, the tears began again. This was the last cup she drank out of, her lips had touched its rim. The plate was one of her favourites, the old chipped one with the wide pale blue band around its edge.

  He collapsed to the floor, plate and cup still in his hands, and cried great heaving sobs. Bombardier eyed him from the top of the wall unit. But didn’t come down. Mike was still there, dishevelled, sticky, and crying when there was a knock at the door.

  He slid the plate and cup onto the counter. He wasn’t sure he was going to answer and so didn’t bother getting up off the floor. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt. A shirt he now realised smelled like the bar. Oh wow, he hadn’t even been to bed yet! Whoever was on the other side was determined and knocked again, a little longer, a little louder. Mike got up. He could tell them he didn’t want to see anyone.

  He peered through the spy hole and saw Stan’s raised eyebrow. What the hell did he want?

  ‘Let me in Mike, Joy rang, said you were in a state. Told me everything. Asked me to come check on you,’ Stan called through the heavy wood separating them. ‘She might have overplayed the reason I was around the other day. I was concerned about you. I just wanted to let you know if there was anything I could do, funeral arrangements and that, I would be there for you. Come on mate, you know what humans are like for making up their own versions of conversations.’

  He sounded exasperated but cheery. Like this amused him somehow.

  ‘She’s gone off at the deep end mate. Just give her some time to calm down and I’m sure she’ll be back. But you know, maybe none of it would have happened if you’d told her what you were, instead of trying to hide the real you.’

  ‘Oh.’ Mike shouted at the peephole. ‘So you think it’s my fault, do you?’

  He grabbed the handle and pulled the door open ready to give his ex-best friend a right earful. And found him doubled over laughing. Mike glared at him.

  ‘Something funny?’

  ‘I knew that would get you to open the door. One little bit of jealousy and you fly off at the deep end!’ Stan gasped for breath.

  ‘That’s not true,’ Mike muttered. ‘Are you coming in or what?’

  ‘Mate, you stink to high heaven, no wonder she was mad at you.’ Stan clapped him on the back as he passed him in the doorway.

  ‘I think she was really mad because of Ginger.’ Mike closed the door.

  ‘What? Who’s Ginger?’

  ‘My point of contact with the company. Shit I did something stupid, but I swear it was the drugs she gave me.’ He shook his head. ‘There is something really off with that company. I just can’t figure it out.’

  ‘You don’t need to figure it out, it’s run by Demons and here’s you trying to be all human and shit. Of course, it’s going to seem off, they’re just being themselves, you’re trying to be something you’re not. Just like back when I met you. It’s like you’re in hiding again – except there’s nothing to hide from.’ Stan made coffee as he talked.

  ‘You think they stopped looking for me?’ Mike asked.

  ‘How many times must we go through this, no disrespect to your mother, but who was even after you? You don’t know who she kept you hidden from all that time, or even why.’ He shook his head. ‘She had no friends, no family. She sounds more like a hermit than someone on the run.’

  He turned with coffee mugs in hand, his look gentler than Mike was used to.

  ‘Look, mate, you have to consider the possibility that she had a screw loose. Maybe if she’d seen a doctor they’d have given her something and you could have lived a normal, well, close to normal life.’

  ‘I’ve heard your maybe she was crazy line before Stan. And we both know how often Demons are medicated because docs have no idea what to diagnose them with.’

  ‘Almost always schizophrenia,’ Stan muttered.

  ‘Exactly, and where would that have left me?’ Mike said. ‘Besides, she did have a family. Sparky, the guy whose body you helped me with? Was apparently a relative. Shame he never thought to say.’

  ‘Probably never thought he was going to die before he told you,’ Stan said offering Mike one of his own biscuits.

  They consumed the packet and the coffee in silence. Thinking their own thoughts. Mike was sure Stan’s were about the stability of his best friend, and he was sure Stan was up to something. He’d been doing that little nervous hand twitch ever since he’d arrived. Mike never told him he knew about it, and he didn’t let on now. That’s why he never mentioned Sparky’s sister.

  ‘Thing is mate, I’m pretty sure someone’s been trying to get in this place for the last few months. Can’t figure out why but a couple of occasions they got past the wards.’ Mike shook his head.

  ‘Watching you?’ Stan frowned. ‘Maybe some local Demon figured out another Demon was living here and came to check out the competition.’

  ‘Maybe, didn’t seem like that, though. Had to put up new wards. Haven’t seen any since though so maybe it worked.’ He shook his head.

  ‘What?’ Stan asked.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You looked like you’d had a thought you didn’t like.’ Stan pushed.

  ‘I was just considering that they might not have been watching me, what if they’d been watching Joy?’ he muttered. ‘But, why would they?’

  ‘No idea mate. But I’d best get going if you don’t need anything. I’ve got a meeting to get to and my boss is a right pain in the neck.’ Stan took his mug to the sink. Mike was still nursing his. ‘Get a shower and cleaned up. Maybe you’ll feel better.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe,’ Mike agreed.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE: ABADDON

  Ginger stood outside the coffee shop. Peering at her reflection in the window. Trying to decide whether Joy was playing the game or not. It looked like she might be and T.G. Master had said she was tasked to start an argument today. Ginger was more than happy to step in and help her accomplish her task.

  They wanted Joy to complete the game, to be a winner, if she got the life gift she was destined for it would ruin Mike. Freeing him up for her. And if they could do that, they could get him to do what they wanted. She could take another shot at wooing him. She was certain they’d be perfect together, after all, they were great in bed – it didn’t require much more than that, did it?

  She gave her make-up one last look over and flicked her hair before stepping through the door of the café. This would ruin Joy’s day.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR: BLACK

  Task: Pleasure and pain

  Today you will each do something both indulgent and self-serving. You must choose it yourself and it must make you feel both good and naughty at the same time.

  If you have succeeded in the tasks go get a tattoo, it must correspond to your colour. It can be anywhere on your body and any size. The symbol represents the life gift you traded your very precious soul for; it will be yours until the day you die. If you did not complete all tasks, then the tattoo must remain unfinished, a line missing, an uncoloured portion, or simply not drawn.

  Black – a devil’s trident – Protection

  She felt drained, thoroughly worn out. She’d slept on the floor until the early hours before dragging herself to her bed. It was only after relighting the log burner and making coffee the next morning that she remembered to read the book. One challenge left. She turned the thin pages, how time had flown.

  Oh, good, she thought,
the first half of the day she could spend doing nothing. She would lay in her pyjamas for another few hours, take a bath, read some other book, and maybe eat. Although she wasn’t feeling hungry.

  Protection, she liked that. Tattoos weren’t a new thing for her. Her difficulty might be paying for it. She lay back, as she tried to get warm again. Sure, the rain wasn’t too far off turning to snow. Maybe if she was lucky they would have a proper winter.

  She stared out of the window towards the trees and wondered. She considered what she wanted to do with her life now. There wasn’t anything keeping her here anymore. She could go anywhere, be anything, be anyone. Images of the man who had saved her and his fancy car popped into her head and she wondered what his gift had been. Perhaps she would play again. She sat up, an idea occurring to her. If she dressed quickly she might just be in time to make it happen.

  She ran to the bus stop and just managed to catch the bus into town. Hopping off in front of the bank. It was a short walk to the tattoo place.

  ‘They say your ex is confessing to pretending to be you.’ The guy behind the counter smiled.

  ‘He is?’ she asked, surprised.

  ‘Long time no see Kelly.’ He wrapped her in a hug. ‘Now, what brings you here today?’

  ‘This.’ She handed him a scrap of paper. On it, she’d drawn the trident and worked out how he could leave off the percentage she couldn’t have. It would look cool.

  ‘Nice, you draw this?’ she nodded. ‘Where do you want it then?’