Fleeing from Light
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They talk about a light, something you see when you come close enough to death that the journey to heaven or hell is a short stroll away. Some folks see this light as their doorway to paradise, oneness with their creator, an eternity of spiritual bliss. It is different for others. These poor souls are left traumatized with visions of burning and suffering, memories of dark figures dragging them off to hell amid the wild and pitiable howls of the damned. Regardless of how a soul comes away feeling about the event, some folks aren’t ready to go. They are free to meander slowly through whatever remains of their meaningless lives. Some folks are ready. It’s their time. Their journeys through their physical existences are complete. These poor souls are hunted, not by some demons aching to dig their claws into flesh and drag souls to hell. That part is all in their heads. Bale Lance hunts them, and where he takes them might be worse than anything they could dream up.
Bale made a bad deal a couple of thousand years ago at a dark time in his life. Everything had been perfect, and then it was almost all ripped away. Out of desperation, he made a deal with the devil. At least, that’s what he thought. He didn’t sell his soul to the lord of the underworld. He sold his daughter’s soul to Orwell Durr, a cat who is as close to the concept of God Bale has found so far. He’s been a hunter ever since. Taking a measly few years off his daughter’s sentence for every mark he brings in. |
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Everything changes when Orwell locates a soul he’s been wanting for millennia. That soul represents the biggest case—and the biggest risk—Bale has ever taken. If he succeeds his daughter’s soul is free. Maybe they could find some kind of normalcy in a couple of lives which have been anything but that. If he fails… Well, he’d probably rather not think about that. She’d be lost to him forever. There would be no reason for him to exist.
The mark for this big case resides in Perver City, hell if you’re keeping score, but it ain’t what you think. Orwell sells the City of Gold as total spiritual bliss. Buy it or don’t, that’s the pitch. Perver City isn’t quite the opposite of that. There is no fire, burning, or suffering. That place is total physical bliss. Any pleasure you can imagine with no consequences. It sounds great, but for Bale it represents a whole pack of distractions that might be too enticing to avoid. Hopefully, he’s stronger than whatever that place throws at him. His daughter’s soul depends on it. |