Soulless

"You laugh all the time, Dick."

"I had to, boy! Would ya have trus'ed me enough to come to the whorehouse with me otherwise? Would others? Prob'ly not. Nobody wants to keep company with a miserable old fart. I had to smile and laugh and make ma'self suffer. If I din't, I'd never redeem ma'self, now would I?"

"What do you mean, redeem?"

Dick ignored my question and held his own line of thought. "She ain't done with ya yet, boy." I shuddered. "She'll be back, ya can count on that! Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow. But ya can bet yer skinny ass that she'll be back."

"Why?' my voice was hoarse and almost inaudible.

"Now that ya have no soul, ya're gonna be one scared and miserable motherfucker, boy. And that's what they're feedin' on. Fear and depression, and despair." He nodded to himself and finally moved away, leaning against the tree again. "They've got yer soul and now they're feeding it with yer own misery! Bastards!"

"Shouldn't you have warned me? I thought a person was always told before the soul was traded or taken or whatever you want to call it." I was still convincing myself that I was simply humoring the old guy.

"You ain't never been warned, boy? You ain't never been to church and the priest was preachin' about the sins and the Devil and how it's bad to fuck without a weddin' band on yer finger and the curse of the whores and those who patron them?"

Of course that was so. But shouldn't there be a specific warning, went through my mind.

"Nah, boy! They reckon, why repeating one and the same sermon over and over. Ya been warned plenty. By the priest, by your momma prob'ly, by everybody. Di'ncha ever get a hooker to suck yer dick b'fore and ya felt wrong about it?"

Sure I did.

"Sure ya did! But ya went and done it again anyways, di'ncha?"

He was absolutely right, I couldn't dispute that.

"Well, now that she has yer soul, she keeps coming back again and again to feed on yer misery and especially fear. The more ya're scared, the happier she is.

"She'll be back once or twice a week. Sometimes ya won't see her for a month and ya'll begin hopin' that she's gone for good. But she'll show up again, and will prob'ly be showin' up every night for two weeks. Ya'll be thinkin' that she'll kill ya, cos ya're gonna be hurtin' so bad.

"Then, she'll stop for a few days. She'll never take pity on ya, boy. Don't even count on it. Ya'll never be able to talk to her with words, but ya'll find that she talks to ya with her thoughts and she can hear yer thoughts, too. If ya beg her to stop, she'll only do it harder and more painful.

"Ya need to take it like a man. Ya're payin' for yer sins, boy! No need to shame yer'self, too."

Adrenalin rushed through my body, making my head even achier. My sight became blurry for a moment and I hoped that this is the continuation of the bad dream from the night before.

"There's hope, though." He said and rolled his eyes at me. "Like I said, salvation is possible."

"How?"

Again, he ignored my question. "There's a trick to it, though. The longer ya take to redeem yer'self, the worse off yer soul when ya finally get it back.

"Ya have seventeen years of time to do it in."

"Why seventeen?" I asked.

"Don't know. But ya better remember it. There's thirteen souls ya have to give 'em, just like I gave 'em yers."

"Why thirteen?"

"Fuck, boy!" Dick seemed to be getting annoyed with me now. What he was telling me was obviously haunting to him and he didn't want to be interrupted by my questions and demands of explanation. "I don't know why! Don't wanna know, to tell ya the truth. Ya find out what ya need to know, the rest ya let be in peace. If ya start poking yer nose into what ya shouldn't be poking it into, well..." Dick spat. "I really don't know what happens, but I reckon ya just might get yer'self into more trouble than ya're already in."

"You need to explain a little more, Dick. Please?" My heart seemed to have completely accepted his story now, my mind still doubted. Deep down, I knew he wasn't lying, he knew too much. This wasn't a joke, because if it had been it wasn't funny or amusing. And I haven't seen Dick laugh much that particular morning.

"I'll tell ya how to get back to the whorehouse later. It's not there all the time. To an accidental by passer it's invisible. It's like, whatchema call it...eh...a warp. Yeah, right, a warp.

"Anyways, ya gotta find thirteen men to go in there with ya and fuck with one of 'em girls. For goodness sake, boy, doncha go fuckin' any of 'em again! I don't even know what woulda happen to ya if ya did."

"Oh, don't worry, Dick. I've had enough sex for a long time if not forever."

Dick let out a hearty laugh. "That's 'zactly how I felt for a long time, boy! I reckon I still do.

"Anyways, you gotta find 'em boys or men and take 'em in there. Martha will welcome ya like a son, she will. She knows ya now, so don't worry 'bout that.

"Every soul that ya give 'em will make ya feel a little better. A little less scared and miserable, but it'll never go completely away until ya're done, ya understand?"

I nodded.

"If ya take a long time, ya'll get yer soul back in a bad way, like me. That's why I'm dyin' now. It's a shadow of what I used to have. I can't 'splain it, but you'll understand when it happens to ya. If it ever does.

"Even if ya know ya're gonna die within weeks afterwards it'll make ya happy. Ya know ya won't be goin' to no hell. I don't know if there's heaven, but at least ya'll be free of hell! I may feel and look like shit now, but b'lieve me, I feel better than I had in almost seventeen years."

I sighed in relief, as much relief as I could feel in the predicament I had found myself in.

"Oh no, boy! Don't go thinkin' it's gonna be easy, cos it ain't." Dick hurried up. "Ya can't make nobody do what they don't wanna. Ya can't drag 'em in there. They have to do it on their own. Ya can push 'em a little, like I did you, but ya can't force 'em.

"There's gonna be many who will get scared at the sight of the whorehouse. It's an ugly old shack, it looks like it's full of disease and despair and a lot of 'em are gonna turn 'round and run away. Some of 'em have that sixth sense of somethin' and they know somethin' really bad is in there. And ya can't do nothin' else but look for another one to pimp in."

The more Dick talked, the more depressed I became. Sadness kept squeezing my heart to the point of pain. I wanted to cry partly because I was not certain if what he was telling me was real, afraid to disbelieve, partly because I knew every word was true and I had brought it all on myself.

"What happens if I don't make it?"

"Oooh," said Dick and the seriousness of his face chilled my already aching heart. "I ain't sure 'bout that. I reckon it can't be no better than what happens now. I reckon ya become sort of a slave to demons. Ya can never get out of it then. One chance ya have, boy. One! Ya better make the best of it!

"One good thing about this business is that ya'll stay 'zactly the way you are right now. Ya don't get sick. Ya don't lose yer hair or teeth. Fuck, ya can run around the house naked in the five inches of snow and ya'll only get cold feet, but no runny nose or fever or nothin' like that. I was sixty-two when it happened to me. Now I'm almost eighty and it's showin'. Has been showin' for the last two weeks, ain't it?

"It'll all hit ya when ya get yer soul back. Never fear! That's why I'm in a bad way now. But like I said, I'm happy!

"Took me almost seventeen years, boy! Ya saved me at the last moment. Well, I had one more month to go, but I was already beginnin' to despair. I was terrified I wasn't gonna make it.

"The hardest part is when ya realize that people don't trus' ya enough to just go with ya to the whorehouse. First ya go for strangers, see. Ya don't wanna put yer friends and loved ones through what ya're goin' through.

"Later, as the years go by, ya realize that ya don't care 'bout nobody enough to spare them the pain, humiliation and even death in hell. Ya just wanna save yer'self. So, if there is heaven, I ain't sure if ya'd actually fit in it after ya had yer brother's soul traded for yer own, but I ain't worried 'bout it too much now. I suggest ya don't go worryin' 'bout it, neither!"

"Who is Jeannie? Or whatever her name is?"

Dick let out a deep and heavy cough.

"Troiana."

"Yeah, Troiana."

"Well, 'member how the priests used to preach that suicide is wrong?"

"Oh, God!" I shivered. My mind went straight to the people of whom I had known had taken their own lives. A girl from the house next door where I lived as a kid who was found hanging in her bedroom, my uncle, my cousin, two guys from college who got so stoned they thought they could fly and leaped off the highest building they could find, I guess that would technically rate as a suicide. The list went on and on. I didn't want to think about it.

"Yeah, you prob'ly don't wanna think 'bout it too much. It'll just drive you mad.

"Those women killed themselves in one way or another. I don't know how He picks and chooses between 'em, but some become night demons. Troiana is one of 'em. She gets yer soul and feeds on ya to keep it alive for Him."

"Him?"

"Don't be stupid, boy! I don't wanna be mentionin' His name out loud, no point in calling attention to ourselves like that. Ya know who I'm talking 'bout."

I supposed I did. I had gotten quite good at this little puzzle of Dick's.

"Anyways, I b'lieve she suffers just as much as ya do, if not more. That's why she's so fucking mean, never giving ya a break. Enjoying your pain and terror.

"Now, ya gotta remember this good, boy!" He waved his long, skinny finger in my face. "If ya don't make it in time, yer soul is lost. I don't know where ya go and what happens and fuck, I don't wanna know, but I'll tell ya this much: it can't be no better than this. It's prob'ly ten times worse. Heck, a hundred times! So don't mess around! Get to it right away!"

One thought had been weighing heavily on my mind. "Why did that woman mention my grandfather, Dick?"

"How many men do ya see on this estate, boy?" I looked around, knowing that we were completely alone. "It's a big enough estate to employ twenty if not more, I reckon."

I nodded. "My grandfather, Dick?"

"Alright, alright I'm getting to it!" He rolled his eyes and coughed. "He took 'em all to the whorehouse, boy. Every single one of 'em, including me. The hired hands, that is."

I could not believe my own ears.

"And when he saved hisself, he let me take the rest to the whorehouse to save ma'self. That's why ain't nobody left here. Some left on their own accord, some left to find others.

"Some were stupid enough to run away from here after the first night the demon-whore came to visit 'em and they don't even know how to redeem themselves. I reckon they ended up in a place I don't want to know nothin' 'bout. And trus' me, ya don't want neither."

"Does my grandfather know what you did?" I asked, fearful that he might have.

"Not really. I reckon he'd know I was after ya. He knew my time was running out. He really didn't have much to say 'bout it. After all, he got me in this mess, ain't he?

"Ya needn't worry 'bout your grandpa, boy! He died in his sleep this mornin' before I knocked on your door. He died peacefully, he's okay now."

Sadness gripped my heart again and I was shocked to realize that it wasn't grief for my grandfather, but rather terror over my fate. Of course I believed Dick. I believed every word of his. How could he have made up something so disgusting and hopeless? He didn't have the brain enough to learn to read properly, let alone tell a story so elaborate as the one he had just told me.

"C'mon, boy!" said Dick and stepped towards the house. "I reckon we need to call the coroner or somethin'. Afterwards, I'll show ya how to get to the old whorehouse, it ain't hard, don't worry."

A million thoughts ran through my mind as I was trailing Dick back to the house. I supposed suicide was out of the question. If chicks become demons and are fed on by a higher power, God only knows what would have happened to me.

"Ya right 'bout that, boy!" Dick's voice jerked me out of my thoughts. "Better not even think 'bout it. Come, it ain't all that bad, you'll see." He spat and I don't know what made me look at the greenish blob carefully, but I was horrified to notice a tooth sitting on top of it.

No, sure ain't that bad at all!

YEARS LATER...

Dick lingered around for another two months, before he too, had finally and mercifully succumbed. His death was hard; his body was literally falling apart right in front of my eyes. He was really not much of a comfort to me.

I quit the apprenticeship in Dallas and remained on my grandfather's farm. I hired a large group of farmhands, some of which I managed to trick into coming to the whorehouse with me, losing their souls in order to save mine.

Like Dick said, many were so terrified of the first night's visit by the entity they ran away blindly without telling me and I could never explain how to redeem and save themselves.

At first I would feel bad about what I had done. But just as it was all laid out to me, word for word, everything Dick told me came true. The demon visits me on regular basis. Sometimes once or twice a week, sometimes it leaves me alone for a month only to torture me for an entire week afterwards.

I thought I might have gotten used to it or at least that it would have become easier, but I was wrong. I am still as terrified when I wake up and cannot move, knowing what is to follow as I had been that first night. I still feel the incredible pain of every touch that invades my body.

I have not gotten sick since the day it had happened. Apart from the nightly visits, I feel hardly any pain at all, ever. My sight and hearing have improved, sometimes to the limits of freakiness. I am like a bionic man. But I can feel my insides slowly rotting away if that's what I could call it. It scares me.

I have found my first victim mere weeks after this whole demon business had happened. Quite mistakenly, I came to believe that it would be no problem to find thirteen men foolish enough to want an easy fuck. I have taken many to the whorehouse, but most of them chickened out at the sight of the old shack. Some of them, I believe, could see the evil radiating out of it, and they bolted out of my car, running to the nearest town never to return to the farm.

Today, I am taking the number eight. I don't have much time left, less than three years and I am afraid that I will fail miserably. That's why I am bringing my best friend with me, John. Well, we used to be best friends. In the past years we have drifted apart. He said I had changed a lot and he couldn't understand my motives for anything anymore. Of course I know exactly what he means, but I cannot explain it to him, can I? Even if did, I seriously doubt he would believe me.

He has had a good life so far. He is doing very well in his own accounting and taxation business. His wife is gorgeous. They have three beautiful kids. I on the other hand have done nothing but think about how I will save myself for the past fourteen years. It's time our lucks and misfortunes change places.

Anyway, we've had plenty to drink and smoke in the morning and he is pleasantly buzzed but not too much out of it, I think. It pains me deeply to be doing this to him, but I have learned to push my concerns and humanity all the way back in my mind. It hardly ever surfaces anymore.

"You've got to be kidding me!" was John's reaction when we pulled up in front of the whorehouse.

"Yeah, I know..." I said and winked at him. "The best bordello you've ever been to, though! Trust me, you won't regret it..."