Danielle was sitting on my bed, looking quite comfy. She was reading one of my books, the first in The Wheel of Time series. Her coral sleeveless turtleneck both hid and accentuated. At her waist, a cream skirt puddled on my bed. She looked over at me as I entered and immediately she had the same placid smile pasted on her face. “I’m here to congratulate you on taking your first step as a Lieutenant!” She closed the book but didn’t make a move to leave my bed.

  My brain sort of worked. I looked at the beer in my hand and looked back at Danielle. “I’m not sober enough for this tonight. Can’t make it any worse though.” I downed the beer and then asked “How are you in my room?”

  Danielle waved airily. “You invited me in once already. I don’t need to knock anymore. I’m just here to congratulate you on procuring your first soul. As long as you are in near proximity to your Implement, Carl should do as you ask. He's yours entirely. Isn't that exciting?"

  "It's just Carl, so not really," I replied with the candor of intoxication. "I spent all my money so I'm probably going to get my power turned off and evicted just so my roommate can take out the trash when I ask. Fuck, I'm an idiot.”

  “For someone who got so ‘inventive’ with your first gambit, you’re showing remarkably little imagination. You can just ask anything of Carl. You could ask him to dance for you, to accost people on the street, to bake you bread all day. You could ask him to fall on a knife, although I wouldn’t recommend doing that. The souls you’ve obtained are valuable resources. Learn to exploit each of them to get ahead. Also I’m pretty sure Carl would have given it up just for forgiveness of a few utility bills. But props for creativity- the height of sexual passion, marred with the stain of intoxication, utterly malicious how you duped him like that. A man does little thinking when women and wine are on his mind.” Danielle’s eyes narrowed slightly. “But your tasks are not done, oh no. Your next goal should be profaning this site. It should be as a haven to those of our cause, Lieutenant.”

  I was partway still reeling from the drinks, and partway still reeling that I could have kept my $500. “I don’t have enough money for anything next, I’m flat broke.”

  Danielle rolled her eyes. “Ask Carl how much he has in his savings account tomorrow. He’s a bit…” here Danielle made a face, “indisposed at the moment. Assuming you’re up to continuing, the profaning process is quite simple. You simply need to make a sacrifice.” She held up a finger as my mouth opened to ask what that meant. “For a place as minor as your little apartment, it can simply be an innocent creature, a rabbit or somesuch. Do not use a domesticated animal, they are no longer innocent.”

  “Umm…” I thought this over. “Is there any other way? I don’t want to kill some poor rabbit. To be honest, I’m not sure I can catch one.”

  “Well there are other kinds of innocence. A child is innocent. A virgin is innocent. Other sorts of sacrifices are potent. A martyr. An angel. A congregation of faithful. You get the idea." Danielle's smile didn't not waver. “Given the question however, I think an animal is best-suited for you. It’s fast and doesn’t have any messy hangups. There are protracted sacrifices of innocence, but those are gambits that take awhile to pay off. Things like betraying a lover or a dear friend. Oh, and those you’ve ensnared make very poor sacrifices. Carl is worth less than a mouse.”

  Well I didn’t want to do that either. “Okay, I’ll work on it. How do I do it?”

  Danielle nodded. “It’s like everything else- just accomplish the task with your Implement, if some sort of blood sacrifice. If you do opt for one of the sacrifices of innocence like a betrayal of a friend, the point of betrayal would need to occur here, with your Implement at hand. All you need to do is express the intent- something like ‘I commit this act in the name of Hell’ or the like. Like I said, Wayward Souls operates much more on leeway with its Lieutenants rather than strangling them with minutiae. It leads to better performance metrics.”

  “Okay, I think I’ve got it.” I figured now was as good a time as any. “Do I get any sort of payment for doing this stuff? LIke Carl might have some money, but if I get evicted it doesn’t make much difference in this market."

  “Mr. Owens, Wayward Souls always looks after its own. You are still in a probationary period however. Once you have an ensorceled soul, a Haven erected for other members of Wayward Souls, and your own congregation, we shall get to what you are given. For now, follow my orders and all will be well. No harm shall come to you or your way of life. Until the probationary period ends, then it’s gloves off. For the other side too.”

  “Wait what, the other side? Like uhh… people following Heaven?”

  “That or other faiths. You'll be acquainted soon enough. Worry about that later," Danielle reassured me. “You know what you need to do next. How about you get some sleep? You don’t have a reason to be awake, unlike Carl.” She smirked. And was suddenly gone.

  I stared at my bed, where Danielle just was. The bed showed no sign of being previously occupied, and when I felt it, it was cold, as if no one had just been sitting on it.

  ***

  I was greeted by a shrill alarm. Far too shrill. Far too loud. The light glimmering in my fluttering eyelids was much too bright. The air tasted foul. It could have been Hell. But it was probably just a hangover. I sat up, every limb feeling like thick clinging mud.

  Right, Carl. I rolled out of bed and cut myself some slack on my morning pushups and situps. One nice thing about having an unemployed roommate who plays Genshin Impact until late hours is that the shower is always open when I wake up for work. Only realizing that Tracy could still be here after I opened the door, I was relieved to see that it was indeed empty. Tracy had probably slipped out last night anyhow. I took a short vigorous shower, the pound of water against my head resonating with the headache inside. Thoroughly clean and feeling no less hungover, I toweled off and got ready for work.

  I emerged from my room again, about as refreshed as I was gonna be- I’d need to pick up a monster or something at 7/11 before clocking in. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and closed the door to my room. The backpack just held a couple of books and my water bottle so it was a bit deflated looking, but it worked for me. I walked out into the living room and noticed that the couch had an occupant.

  Tracy was sprawled across it, Carl’s ratty green blanket thrown across her like a forgotten corpse. I tried to lighten my footfalls through the living room but she immediately started awake.

  “Mrh.” She made a noise that was half startlement, half waking up hungover. Her makeup was a mess and her hair rumpled. She gazed at me with sleep-addled eyes, still smoky in their eyeshadow. “Oh Jeremy. Fuck, that was a night. What did you do to him?”

  Uh oh.

  “What did I do to who?” I asked, although I dreaded the answer.

  “Carl! You turned him into a fuck machine! How the fuck did you do that?”

  "Err what?" I expected questions about Carl, but not like this.

  “Okay, you fucking stabbed the guy, told him to go back to fucking me, and he totally changed. He wore me the eff out,” Tracy said, almost luxuriating in the notion. Is it some master/slave thing? You made him? I’ve never seen shit like that.”

  “Whoa whoa whoa. Slow down. You were pretty wasted last night-” I started

  “Not that wasted. I can drink a few beers and hold my shit. You asked Carl for his fucking soul and then stabbed him? But not a lot, just a little. He bled a lot, the knife was covered in blood. Then it wasn’t. And then you told him to ‘rock my world’ which I remembered because it was so fucking corny, and then left. And then he did.”

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  “He did what?” I asked in confusion. Tracy’s eyes were alight with passion, she looked eager and invested, an ardor entirely absent from her last night. A night with Carl should not have had this sort of effect on a woman. Or at least I thought so.

  “You told him to rock my world, and he did. He fucking did. Your gross nerd friend who draws the huge tits might have been the best lay of my life." Tracy stretched luxuriously, and my eyes couldn't help but notice how the ratty little green blanket failed to hide much. "I want in," she stated suddenly.

  "Wh-what? In on what? Fucking Carl?" I looked at the literal pile of cans. How in the Hell did she remember so much?

  "No you moron, I want in on the knife side."

  "If you're offering your soul, sure." Why would she want this?

  “What the fuck! No! You made Carl do what you want. I want to do that.” Tracy grinned fiercely. “Just tell me your secrets.”

  “Tracy, I’m just learning myself how to do all this shit. Some woman just gives me orders and I follow them.” I considered it. “You can uh… tag along I guess? But outside of nabbing your soul there’s not much I can do.”

  Tracy frowned. “Well, can I meet this woman next time? Did she give you the knife?”

  “Uh sure, yeah. She gave me my Implement. Now I have to get to work and I wanted to grab an energy drink at the gas station before I head to work. Don’t you work today?”

  “Sherrie can eat my entire ass,” Tracy said. “Bitch has it out for me. I’m not going in today. You shouldn’t either.”

  “You didn’t just spend six hundred bucks to get told that your suckass roommate is actually a don juan in the sack. I have to work to get by.”

  “You know what? Keep the other three hundred. I want a knife that makes people obey me too. Do that for me, Jeremy.” Tracy’s eyes glittered.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I groused. “The next time I get orders will probably be after I make an animal sacrifice or some shit. Can you catch a rabbit?”

  “Fuck no.”

  “I didn’t think so. See ya." I went out the door, pondering how to profane my apartment.

  ***

  "Mr. Owens, just because this is your first violation does not mean I'm obligated to forgive it." Sherrie didn't look up at me. She stared down through the bottom of her glasses at her planner. Sherrie was a woman headed into her twilight years and she was bound and determined to make everyone as upset about it as she was. Her greying hair was disguised with a vaguely red dye job. Her glasses, heavy things with thick frames, had a strap festooned with amber beads- even though she never took the glasses off. Her aged face somehow managed to wrinkle up even more whenever she looked over her planner. Everytime she worked in her planner, she kept a #2 wooden pencil at hand, and would tap it against her chin as she read to the unfortunate employee who had to be moralized at. Sherrie wore heavy floral shawls even though it violated the dress code. She had threatened an ADA lawsuit as it discriminated against her thermal dysregulation disorder. Instead of fighting it, management just accepted it

  She was nowhere near as lenient on staff. She kept a laundry list of slights and violations, and made sure to document each thoroughly. No one liked her one bit, except the other older ladies who she often turned a blind eye to. While she was horrible for most staff, Sherrie definitely despised the younger women employees. She was especially quick to find dress code violations or time theft. She was a draconian elder, and her purview was 9 hours of my life.

  “Just let me sign the thing and I won’t do it again. It was a one time thing. Didn’t Leon tell you that I needed to take a crap?” I just wanted out of the small office, fetid with Sherrie’s archaic perfume.

  “Language, Mr. Owens. Regardless of circumstance, you should have come to me and received permission to take your break at a time not appointed to you. Am I being clear with how you should proceed going forth?” Her eyes finally glanced up at me, before she began jotting some notes in her planner.

  “Yes you’re being clear, Sherrie.” It was an exercise in all my restraint to not sigh while saying it. I stood up. Halfway up, Sherrie stopped me.

  “I’m not done, Mr. Owens. Please remain seated.” Sherrie said.

  Of course she wasn’t. “Oh, sorry Sherrie.” I sat myself down again.

  “I know the real reason you left your register. I can tell you, Mr. Owens, Ms. Leone is not a reason to lose your job. She may look hot.” I felt the air quotes here. “But under all that makeup and hair dye is a young woman looking to do harm to a shy young man such as yourself.” Excuse me? “The same thing happened to my son, and I don’t want to see it happen to anyone else.” Her tone didn’t change as she gave this news to me. Revelatory personal details sounded as coldly perfunctory as the reminder about how to take an unscheduled break.

  “Um. Thanks,” I managed. I started to stand up. “May I leave now?”

  “You may go, Mr. Owens.” Sherrie said in curt dismissal.

  I left the office as quickly as possible, shaking my head as soon as I got outside. I suppose in a way Sherrie was right- Tracy had taken my money. But she gave some back, so I don’t know how that measured out. I didn’t intend to break any more rules, that was just a one time thing, I hoped.

  Then my brain followed that with another thought I had never even dared hope- that I might be able to leave this soon. That I wasn’t doomed forever to life of retail drudgery. This whole thing might be a gateway out. Carl somehow followed my orders to a T. The soul capturing really worked. My mind began to buzz with the possibilities of grabbing souls from someone wealthy. I dreamt of somehow pricking Elon Musk with my Implement and gaining access to untold hoards of wealth. Of course, I had no way to get close to someone like that. Maybe I could chain up to the wealthy.

  But this could actually be my path to freedom. From this life. From all the morasses that clung to me as I pulled. I had a bit more spring in my step as I went back to my register. Matt wasn’t in today but Leon was.

  “Wow, I’ve never seen someone come back from Sherrie looking like that. Was she not not being her usual happy self?” Leon smirked. Leon was a slight guy, of small frame and not very tall and just a smidge paler than Tracy. He had thick square glasses, and dark hair that had a tendency to get out of control if he didn’t keep it short. He had a quick, nervous energy to him, which he usually tried to dispel with a joke. His light blue eyes often sparkled as he made these jokes, but then would return to the pained solemnity that seemed to haunt him when he wasn’t forcing his humor. He had taken me under his wing when I first got hired on. He was already friends with Matt and introduced us. They were the closest things I had to friends in this town, and we often would hang out to play boardgames or play games online together.

  “Nope, just got better things to think about.” I said, genuinely feeling lighter than I had in a long time.

  “Ah, that’s why you were talking with Tracy. Get your dink sucked?”

  “Oh fuck off dude. No, I just have a… business partnership. It’s making me think I might be able to get out of this job.” I started setting up my register for the day. Sherrie pulled me in right at the start, so I still had a full shift to work through.

  "Well, if you hit it big, don't forget your old friend Leon over here."

  We quickly had to stop as the registers got busy. The nice thing was it went quickly, and my shift concluded with little issue. After Leon learned Tracy never came in for the day, he gave me more grief. Overall though, the day felt completely typical, at odds with the buzzing excitement in my head. I didn't quite beeline for my car, but my walking may have been more rushed than usual.

  "Hey, QB, can I bend your ear for a sec?" A voice, deep but friendly, halted me.

  Smith Burrows was a very large man, and not in a soft rotund way. He was broad in the shoulders and chest, with wide arms and large hands. He was easily over six feet tall, closer to six and a half. His face was a blocky affair, sun darkened to a tan. He hid the harsher lines of his face with a close-cropped beard. His hair was full and dark, short but not clipped. Deep green eyes usually sparkled in a friendly way, and his lips always naturally curled into a smile. He worked in the outdoor department, and helped customers with heavy items.

  He had learned at some point that I had played football, and that was how he thought of me. Even though I was a third string quarterback on a bad high school team, he called me QB. Matt would sometimes do it too, more just to get my goat than anything. Smith was so earnest that I knew he wasn’t doing it to mock me.

  “Yeah, what’s up?” I asked.

  Smith immediately broke a radiant grin. “So you know the holiday’s comin’ up and everything? My church is putting on a Christmas Eve Pageant. Was hoping you might attend. Could be good for you to get out of your apartment, eh?” He gave me a convivial slap to the shoulder. With his other hand he slipped me a flier on red cardstock. It was the address to his church. It was also not the first time he’d given me one.

  “Um, thanks man, I’ll think about it.” I had a pile of the things, but I didn’t want to hurt him. He was always so nice.

  Smith’s hand remained on my shoulder. “Hey, I know you’re thinking that this is the same as all those other times.” His grip tightened slightly. “This Christmas Eve might not be safe, out here. You should be fine in Central United. You seem like a good guy, so I'm giving you this heads up." His smile dimmed slightly. "The world ain't what it used to be, Jeremy. Don't let it sink its claws in you."

  He left me there a little dumbfounded. Did he know about Wayward Souls? Surely it was just religious paranoia about the secular and spiritual world being so much more at odds. Smith gave me a wave as he drove off. I gave him a halfhearted wave, troubled.