Blech Soul Novels & Stories

I heard a crack, like somebody misstepped and broke a twig on the ground. In fear I leapt out of the pool and heard a snarl come from behind me. Now I could smell something. It smelled like blood, sweat, mud, and grease. I was suddenly on the ground and there was a full grown adult wolf on top of me, her claws digging into my flesh. I cried out, terrified and in pain.

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Just as the strange feeling welled up within him, he let out a disgusting moan. At that moment, he finally snapped, snapped out of it. The feeling was gone and everything else was thrown away. Even his goddamn memory was cut off and the familiar beep awake his senses. [Skill: Soul’s Pact has been used up! Cool down: 23hr 59mins 48s] The sudden shock left his heart numb and the feeling was washed away almost immediately. Maybe it was because of the shock or because of the repulsive response he just blurted out. All of it was instantly gone now.

the little ghost says as her voice echos throughout the cave. The souls swim underneath the surface of the water. Some look happy and others look broken. The happy ones are pink and the sad ones are blue. The red souls are angry. This must be how these people died in their final moments. They must have died with these last emotions in their hearts. They look like tadpoles dancing and spiraling in the water. Their dance is beautiful and painful to watch. I put my hand in the water and thousands of souls jump at a chance to be released from the spell of the water.

Sometimes, the body remembers what the soul tries to forget. It wasn't the pain that broke me, but the way my body stopped belonging to me. Every unwanted touch was another crack. A piece of me vanishing without a sound. I arrived to Chicago months ago, and I still struggle to breathe. This city doesn’t embrace me—it watches me. Everything is clean, cold, precise. Neon lights flicker like fake stars, and the rain hits the windows with military discipline. It’s a world built to function, not to feel.

Blood trickled down the corners of his lips when he opened his mouth. There was a scar on his lower back, mirroring the one I had from my surgery.

The Children of the Blessed were idiots; they were fools. "Other than more recruits for me, and you staying well away from the wall, we have no idea what all these attacks mean," the mercenary continued. Particularly if the High Wiz begin to show up— or, worse still, one of the High Lords. They would make the virelya appear to be canines. I examined her rough, scarred hands, which were dried out by the weather. "Have you ever encountered a different kind of Witch?" "You don't want to know, girl—not unless you want to be hurling up your breakfast," she said as her eyes closed.

’ I silently screamed, the scent of fire and bleach burning my nose. Could he not smell it? Could he not feel the change within me? Like the start of a rot that would soon sink beneath my skin and devour me from the inside out. My body wouldn’t die, no. Only my soul, only every single thing that made up who I was. Both my heart and head cried out to him, breaking when he failed to see the hold it had on my soul. There was a feral desperation that began to claw its way out, scrambling to find some sort of foothold on the slope I threatened to tumble down. Only a single name came to mind.

Diego said "I am what you'd call a Pnevma. A host to one of the Ten Black Spirits." "Wait wait....black Spirits. " Altar said " I've only heared stories about Black Spirits. Spirits made of raw Dark Energy....i only thought those were myths" "Im as real as they come" Diego said," Theres one living inside of me. Last night you saw only a glimpse of what they can do. The thought of it is terrifying. Dorian wants my power. He wants to extract it from me and into himself so he can rule Beaunotique."

She seemed more like an official than the actual ones. The ones doing their soul communion just stared. After working in the Netherrealm for so long, everyone got pretty lifeless and dull. They couldn't remember the last time—probably centuries—since they'd seen a departed soul with this much rebellious energy. The Phantom Patrol asked Blanc, "Blanc, what's the deal with this soul?" Before Blanc could answer, the Phantom Guards in dark robes started yelling. "You're not a departed soul! You're a living soul—what are you doing stirring up trouble in the Netherrealm?"