Soul Cleanser Novels & Stories

“Whatever-the-fuck. Anyway, I been watchin’ from here almost every night since then and he’s always gone real late on Wednesday nights. I’m goin’ in there and I’m bustin’ inta that stone chest . . . ” He reached behind him, unzipped his backpack and pulled out a short-handled, hand-held sledgehammer. He hefted it, like he was Thor and it was Mjölnir. “I’m bustin’ in there and gettin’ that box and I’m crushin’ all those tiles to fuckin’ powder. I dunno how I know it, but I do. Dad’s soul is trapped in them things, and I’m gonna let it out.”

Peter frowned as he replied, "You mustn't tell anyone what you saw in the spirit world. I saw another prophecy that you will surely die three days after revealing the secret of your reincarnation to anyone. Also the karma of the soul inside of you needs spiritual cleansing or else you'll encounter serious bad luck." "I'm sensing that's not the whole situation," Simon said. "Otherwise why will you be telling me?" "Yes there's more to the situation," Peter said, fumbling with his briefcase. "The soul can only be cleansed with an act of charity. You will need to deposit a sum of one million dollars into a charity fund account. I'm sure for a man of your status this is a small price to pay."

I haven’t been sensing West’s emotions all this time, but his wolf’s and they must have similar feelings usually until this moment. I push those thoughts from my head before I close my eyes to find whatever my “center” is. I’m guessing she meant to clear my mind, and only focus on her which is easier said then done. Soon I hear Jennifer moving around placing elements at the four points of the circle; a bowl of water to the west, she starts a fire to the south, she places a jar of dirt to the north, and lastly a jar of air that she had me breathe into to the east. When she starts chanting, I feel warmth starting at my toes slowly creep up my body until it feels like I’m being bathed in warm h

"Evet." When he lowered his head and entered his room, he came across a picture of his parents. With a wry smile and heavy steps, he went to the nightstand and took the picture in his hand. While the word "I'm sorry" was falling from his mouth with broken sobs, he embraced the picture among his rising cries... Death was right, but the person who caused it would suffer from remorse until he died... ***

I close my eyes and sit down, waiting for Torin to recover from whatever daze he was in. “Jess?” It seems like he finally snapped out of it. “Yeah.” I mumble in a muffled manner, trying to keep my insides from hurling. I had thrown what he gave me as soon as he left and even scrubbing my hands against my jeans for the past 10 minutes wasn’t enough to get rid of how disgusting it felt in my hands. “Are we high?” “I’m starting to think this is real.”

I don't know how I am looking but with the horrid expressions on Alex and Joanna’s I may be looking like a fool and shit. “ E…E…Ezra, H..He…Is W…with…M..Mitchell.” I don't know how I uttered these words as my eyes are closing on their Accord and all I can see is blackness and their voices are absurd. I welcomed the darkness which was calling me and I happily welcomed it and kept falling and falling till I felt peace. “ Ezra Irwin is not only an addiction but also a parasite who will kill you even after you are dead and I hope I have met my death.”

Because no-one other than the high priest can take the treasure of the Holy church and give it to someone. I bow down as I extend my hand towards Drystan. He smiled and gave me the colourless cube, the artefact called Soul purifier. As soon as the artefact touched my skin, it started gleaming golden and slowly dissolving into my palm. " Lord Drystan, why is it dissolving into my palms?" I asked, getting anxious. " Because it has to in order to heal your soul. Your mana has reduced to zero, you will not be able to cast magic spells. I have already sensed this, that's why I went for the holy artefact ," he casually replied, completing his spell.

TREVOR {Thursday 8 days to the blood moon} I woke up to the sound of a gritty voice, whispering in my ear. “Good morning Trevor, my name is Jonathan Gordon. But you can call me Jericho.” I was stunned when I opened my eyes and saw his face. He was leaning toward me with a glass of water as he smiled. He had a long scar across his face and dark brown eyes. “What's going on?” I asked. “Let's go downstairs and have a chat,” he replied as he got up and walked out of the room.

What a disgusting disgrace of a human being! Holly Mary, mother of our Savior! Can we borrow your son to come die for this soul again? This one needs special deliverance and saving for God’s sake! What kind of human being is this? Is he perhaps suffering from a certain disease that he is trying to transmit to the whole world through sex or something? How can there be a disgusting, shameless jerk like him in the human realm? I feel Robby slowly take the phone from my hands, and I don’t object. I actually think I have had enough of that pathetic soul. He is nothing but a sick, rotten Dickwhore! A total shame to be associated with.

Nate abruptly stopped reading, massaging his temples thinking that he was too mature to believe in such ridiculous tales; nevertheless he continued, hoping to find answers that could help shed some light on things he himself could not explain clearly. “It was said that all souls were set free to roam the earth on this holy night of the dead, returning to their eternal resting place at the crack of dawn, but a soul with a vengeance, a link or a chain bounding them to the land of the living may never find its way back into the gates of the afterlife…. Now what the hell does that mean? Are they saying a bunch of dead people usually wakes up on Peter Pak but if they have unfinished business they