Soul Remains by Sam Hooker

Author:Sam Hooker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Spot Books

Eternal Boredom

The dead do not sleep, exceptions being made for ancient horrors dwelling in blackened voids beyond the stars. But the ultimate destruction of the universe and all who dwell within it is a subject for another time. Suffice it to say that neither Sloot nor any of his contemporaries in the Hereafter needed sleep. Nevertheless, there were beds in the Hereafter. The house was silly with them, in fact.

The problem was that none of them seemed to belong to Sloot.

One might suppose that he could have simply lied down in any of them, but keep in mind that this was Sloot Gefahr Peril. The concept of ownership was very important to Sloot, and abiding by it was the best defense in the war on awkwardness. Imagine if someone were to walk in on him and say “hey, what are you doing in my bed?” While there were undoubtedly people in the world who could simply explain that it was a misunderstanding and have a good laugh about it, none of them were Sloot Peril.

He might’ve been able to have a conversation about it when they’d all just arrived, but that was a long time ago now. Probably. Though he didn’t know precisely how long it had been, it had certainly been long enough that he was now afraid to ask.

In lieu of a lie-down, Sloot opted instead to go for a nice walk. He was nearly dissuaded by an inner voice that said “but what if somebody needs me here?”

Nice try, Sloot thought in retort. At this point, he was acquainted with as many people who could summon him at will as not, so his presence or absence was neither here nor there, no pun intended. Sloot was always eager to avoid inner monologue, as he could never say for sure with whom he was speaking. His own conscience, presumably, but his girlfriend had been possessed for most of her life, hadn’t she? What if he was too, and his possessor was just more subtle about it?

Not worth the risk, he thought. He’d nearly made it to the front door before he was distracted by a pitiful moaning from the other end of the house. He shook his head and resolved to ignore it, or at least thought that he had. After a brief interlude, during which his memory went all fuzzy, he found himself standing inches from the circle and staring into Willie’s eyes.

“That’s it,” said Willie, “just a bit closer.”

“Oh, no you don’t!” Nan grabbed Sloot by the ear, gave it a firm twist, and walked him back half a dozen paces.

“Ow!” he said. It hadn’t actually hurt, but he instinctively went along with the Agreement.

“You can play with Willie if you want,” said Nan, madly waggling a finger at Sloot, “but you need to keep an arm’s length from the circle. My wittle Willikins has been a very naughty boy.”

“Have not,” said Willie. His serpentine eyes glowed and pulsed. All six of them.

“Don’t you start!” said

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