The Unsainted

“Aww I was looking forward to eating that.”  Rick said as he watched his toasted marshmallow fall to the ground just outside the fire pit.

“Good job Rick, mine tastes great!”  Mark said as he pulled the freshly toasted marshmallow off the bent close hanger and quickly put it into his mouth.  Mark soon realized his mistake as the marshmallow was to hot and he had to spit it out, his marshmallow now laid on the grass beside Rick’s.  The two friends shared a look and started to laugh.

“Okay…okay settle down.  It’s almost time to call it a night.”  Troop leader Greg said.

“Can we have a scary story before we go to bed?”

“I don’t know Jordan, it’s late.”

“Come on Troop Leader Greg.  What is a campfire without a scary story?”

Greg paused and thought about it for a moment, trying to come up with an idea for a story.  With a deep breath he smiled.  “Okay…one story.”  Greg took a drink of his pop that was spike with whiskey before beginning.

“Along time ago before this was a camp site for the Troops of Tomorrow, it was sacred land.  Once stood a church just up the hill, the ruins long ago rotted and returned to the ground.  But before time stole the sanctuaries beauty it was once a beautiful home to a loving Priest that was hailed as an angle sent from God.  Of course he had help, five Nun’s also called this church home.  Together they did great good, raised money for charities, helped the poor, fed the hungry.  Life was good and good was the lives that lived on this land.  But time passed as it does, and the faithful that once flooded these lands to listen to the Priest talk about God and learn God’s teachings fell on hard times.  The world was changing, people were changing and faith was leaving this world one ignored prayer at a time.  The Priest and his Nuns did what they could to try to draw attention to the dying church by doing what all churches do, by having bake sales.”

“Trooper Leader Greg, this isn’t scary.”  Mark said.

“I’m getting there…do you want a story or not?”

“Okay…okay…” Mark said and filled his mouth with a raw marshmallow.

“But still they could not keep their lovely but fading church alive.  And so the once magnificent sanctuary faded in to obscurity.  But the Priest and the Nuns did not lose their faith and stayed here keeping faith in God and believing that they would resurrect their God loving home as Jesus was resurrected.  Year after year passed and one by one the Nun’s grew old and died of illnesses and old age.  Their bodies committed to the ground not far from here.  During this time a terrible storm moved in across the land.  High winds slapping the ground and blowing the trees, lighting shattering the darkness of the sky with thundering screams echoing over the land.  Rain fell hard turning the earth to mush.  During the storm the Priest ran out and looked up into the sky and yelled at God’s fury that was unleashed on the world that night.  He cried up to God and asked why, wanting to know why this was done to him, why he fell from favor and into despair.  It was during these blasphemies that God answered him by striking him dead with a powerfully lightening blast.  It is said that this blast of God’s might had turned the Priest into ash instantly his soul was set a flame.  Rumour has it that if you look in to the flames of camp fires you can see his set aflame.”

All the attention of the kids was now on the fire.  Greg smiled to himself, unscrewed the top of his drink and tossed it in to the flames.  The high alcohol content sent an explosion in to the air and sent the kids flying back in screams, but Greg was laughing.

“How was that?”  Greg asked.

“It was great.”  In the fire a shadow stood, its face broke, its body burnt.  From the shadows high pitched screams echoed as warped and impossibly skinny darks shadows came alive with claws for hands and white beady eyes set deep in their shadowed skulls.  Greg stood up but one quick slash sent a wave of blood up over the children spattering them as they went running into the surrounded forest with the clawed and pained spirits of the nuns chasing after them.  In the fire the Priest stood and looked down at the dying man who managed to ask.  “Who are you?”

The Priest smiled.  “We…are the Unsainted.”

Rocket Ship

I took a long deep pull on the cigarette that was mixed with some weed.  The drug policy at work was clear, don’t come to work high.  But getting high was the only way to make it through work.  Mixing it with tobacco hide it nicely.  It was lunch time and I had walked over to the park not to far from work.  Sat down on the same bench I always did and watched the world pass.  Checking out the occasional jogger in yoga pants as she ran through life.

Holding the cigarette between two fingers I reached for my water bottle and unscrewed the cap and took a few deep gulps of carbonated water, grapefruit was my flavor of choice.  A sudden bang caused me to drop my water bottle into my lap.  It scared the living crap out of me, and now it looked like I pissed my pants.  I looked around thinking it was a car accident, or a gun shot, or worse some kind of terror attack.  Seeing nothing I turned my attention to the sky and there were four vapour clouds in the shape of circles, each one a little small than the other.  Screams echoed through the park.  I heard one person yell out that this was a nuclear attack and we were all about to die.  I doubted that or we’d already be dead from the air burst.  The only reason I knew this was from video games and movies.

An object in the sky slowly caused me to stand, my head titled up as I watched this ship come in to focus.  It looked like a rocket ship straight out of 1950’s science fiction.  It was cylindrical in shape and came to a rounded point with long fins attached at the rear with a flame that seemed to be cutting in and out.  And the bloody thing was coming right at me.

I was in shock at being this close to some strange event, I wanted to move but my body was glued to the spot.

Sirens echoed in the city behind me as emergency services rolled up on to the scene.  Police cars jumped the curb, followed by swat vans.  Shit was hitting the fan it a big way.  Being the idiot that I am I decided to walk in to the park, following the emergency vehicles.  I had only walked a few steps before the ship passed out of view, hidden by the tree tops.  The ground shook and was followed by a bloom of dirt, sod, and women screaming.  The ship had crashed and I picked up my pace not wanting to miss out on the excitement of first contact.  Totally forgetting that my lunch was over.  But who was still working with all this racket going on?

 

I follow the emergence crew lights and my pace slowed as I near the scene.  Police cars blocked most of the crowd and the police officers were doing a great job at keeping the rest of us far enough away that we couldn’t see much.  Behind me a horn went off and I turned to see large black Hum-V’s enter the park.  They had no army or military insignia’s on them.  But they didn’t seem to give a shit who I was or anyone else.  After nearly running us over I watched the vehicles enter the park.

Men in dark suits stepped out, probably with some secret government department that I never had heard of.  They walked up to the police and whispered something and all there men were pulled back.  My attention then turned to what everyone else was staring at, a large ship with spider like legs holding it up right.  It was red and white with some scorch marks from when it entered the atmosphere.  The men in black suits walked up and stood just before it, military personal behind them in urban camouflage with weapons at the ready.

An orb of light between the men in black suits and the ship appeared.  It was bright and seemed to grow in brightness until a flash caused me to look away.  A gasp shared with the group moved through the crowd as we all shared a breath.  Standing where the orb had been were three….three…fuck if I knew what they were.  They looked like us but with short torsos and long limbs.  But there bodies were hidden behind some kind of suit.

And then it began.

People started to fall down like they were being choked and a few seconds later there was a pop sound.  Like a child had jumped in a deep puddle a wave of dark red blood was sent up in to the air.  The sound of guns silenced the sound of screams.  One by one people exploded like water balloons.  I did what I could only do.  I brought my cig from hand to my lips took a long hard pull.  A high pitched sound echoed inside my head, I felt a great pressure.  The cigarette dropped from my lips, I saw it flutter through the sky for a brief beautiful moment the cigarette hung in the air.  Then I to, went pop.

 

The End.

Snuffed

This week I thought I’d change it up a bit.  I do enjoy writing poetry as well as short stories and of late I’ve wanted to share more of the poetry I write.  This is a new poem I wrote not to long ago.  I hope you enjoy it.


 

Snuffed

What use to feel right
Now causes me to take flight
The burning flame
Snuffed and now I place blame

A constant argument deep in mind
Killing myself a step at a time
Royal rumble destroying thoughts dead
Ever growing concern of fear and dread

Confused

The cuffs of fear bind me
Lost and wanting to be free
Cracks in flesh are old marks I bled
Ideas lost between tired threads

A hopeless path
Filled with emptiness of once full craft
Trying to stoke the flame to life
The ashes are already dead stuck with a knife

F.C. Janes

Eye Contact

And so it began…

I stared in to the eyes of a man who hated me and wanted nothing more then to see the end of me.  To feel his blade crack my ribs as it slide through my flesh puncturing the most important of organs was his greatest desire.  I didn’t stand in front of him defenceless, I had my own sword drawn, my fingers curled around the hilt waiting and ready.  When I looked into my enemies eyes I always found something new with in myself.  This time as I looked in to cold steel blue eyes of my enemy I felt peace.  My mind was calm and clear of thought.  Even the sounds that echoed around us on the battlefield sounded distant, like it would be days before the battle was at my feet.

He took a step and started to approach me, his breath could be seen in the cool spring air.  I counted his breaths.  One breath…two…three.  He was breathing quickly.  My own pulse started to race, blood from past slayed enemies slowly dripped from the tip of my sword.  Their lives stolen by me on orders from a King that I had never met and was not anywhere near the battle.  The young die so the old may live.  My father use to say until I killed him.  Oh…I’m sorry you thought you were riding along with the hero of the story.  No, that man stood across from me, walking towards me, wanting to take my life.

I had been exposed to death from an early age.  The first time I saw it was with my pet dog.  It had peed on the house floor and my father had beat it until it died.  The second was my father cutting down a curious man who had peaked inside the door of the lodge.  Looking some place he should not have.  My father killed out of blind rage,  I turned to the family business in to one that pays.

The first attack came, a thrust forward that I quickly parried out of the way.  Side stepping in the opposite direction that I deflected my enemies sword.  Bringing my blade around for my answer to his attack.  He recovered nicely deflected my blade but missed my fist that made good contact with his jaw.  His head snapped back, he lost his balance, and for a brief moment I thought it would end here.  With him falling to the ground and me running my blade through his neck so he could drown and choke on his own blood.

Turned out he was tougher than that and stood his ground.  Recovered in time to deflect a two handed blow that would have surely cut his head from his shoulders.  Each attack followed a perfectly time block.  Our dance continued, my own breath filling the air in front of me with a quick fog, only to disappear with in seconds to be made hole with another breath.

There was the sound of a horn, not from my side.  The horn was pure, clean, had a rather pleasing sound to it.  But it caught my enemies attention for a brief moment.  His sword lowered for just a second.  Instead of striking with my blade I had pulled a dagger out from under my cloak, which remained hidden from him.  With a quick thrust my triangular shaped dagger cut into him deeply.  I felt it scrap over bone before sinking deeper in to his side.

My enemies eyes went wide, with a twist I pulled it out and kicked him in the stomach, knocking him on to his back.  I stood over him looking down, his sword fallen from his hand.  Blood bubbling up from the wound.  My eyes not leaving his as I watched the life drain out of him.

I looked forward and saw men running, they were retreating.  I smiled and watched as men and women fighting on my side ran after them.  Wanting to not leave a single one of them standing.  I couldn’t help but think to myself as I watched the hordes retreat that it was a sad day for the free men and women of this world.  Sure, kings fall, some good, some bad.  No different then the one that pays me well to fight.  But I had this odd feeling that this time the weak would be come slaves, the capable would become servants , and people like me would find a different kind of freedom waiting for them in this new world.

 

The End

Prompt: Food

Good Morning everyone!  How are we all doing?  Good….good.  Next weeks prompt is Eye Contact.  I’m looking forward to what my creative mind comes up with for this one.  Considering the prompt food created the short piece of flash fiction below.  As always if you enjoy it leave a like or comment.  I know skipped a week, that is because I had gotten my half sleeve on my right forearm finished and it was rather tender last weekend and didn’t feel much like writing.  Now I have no excuses to miss any other Monday’s.


As a human being I had never thought of myself as food for an animal.  Maybe the first man to step foot out of his cave then immediately eaten by some creature lost to the fossil record.  He probably felt like food but not in 2354.  Now here I am being chased down like I was a barbeque chicken.

I leapt over a fallen tree that’s trunk was easily the size of my lander.  Thanks to the jump jets on my TSE suit it made it look easy.  Looking over my shoulder to see if the darling creature I had stumbled upon during my mapping mission of planet X0-1 had been able to follow me.  To my surprise it did.  The snarling purple with green spines running down its back had extended webbing from its side.  Basically it turned it’s self into a kite and it was a bit to close for comfort.

Glancing down at my arm where a small view screen showed a greed dot which was me and a red dot which was my lander.  That is where I was heading as quickly as possible.  The distance between the green dot and the red dot was shrinking but not fast enough to give me any kind of relief.  Again I looked over my shoulder and the creature was gaining on me.  I pushed myself and my suit to its limits.  The TSE suit did give me better agility and strength.  It didn’t offer much protection from claws and teeth.  Those two things is what worried me the most.

Raising my arm I punched a set of commands in to my wrist computer to open the rear hatch of my lander.  It was about six feet wide and ten feet tall.  More then enough room to let me in and the creature following me.  I had to have at least four seconds on the monster to allow me enough time to close the hatch behind me.  I had everything ready to go.  The lander flashed red telling me the rear hatch was open and waiting, I just needed four seconds.

The tree’s started to thin out and a valley opened up.  I could see the lander there, rear hatch open waiting for me.  I felt like it was calling out to me, urging me to run faster if that was even possible.  The lander was down hill which gave me an advantage but it also worked for the creature.  I would be sure to put a warning to anyone else visiting this planet to stay the fuck away.

I was now ten feet from the lander I jumped and landed in the hold slamming against the back wall.  It was about 20 feet deep.  I pressed the emergency close button on my wrist computer.  The door hissed and slammed shut.  Breathing heavily in my suit caused the impact resin visor to fog up.  I rolled on to my back and through the fog of the visor I stared in to the face of the creature.  “Oh shit.”

 

The End.

Dance

Now that I’m over that damn cold I was fighting.  I have something to share with you all.  As I’m sure some of you are aware I’m doing my best write a prompt story per week.  The prompt for this week was Dance.  Next week the prompt will be Food.  If you plan on joining me I’d enjoy reading what you came up with.


Dance

Standing with the flintlock rifle raise the carriage slowed.  The collar of the highwayman’s long leather cloak flipped up high and tied up at the front with buttons. Keeping the lower half of his face hidden from sight.  The cloak hid two back up pistols he had strapped on his person, which could be easily reached through fake pockets.  His large brimmed hand pulled low covering his face in shadow.

“Woah there!”  The driver said while pulling on the reins.  “Don’t want no trouble mister, please step aside and let me pass.”

Lowing the rifle into a position that he could raise quickly if needed he stared at the driver.  “Good sir, I have a question and then I will let you on your way.”

“Ask yer question.”  His hand sliding to a pistol hidden beside him.

“I plan on robbing the people of their goods in side that carriage of yours, and I am wondering if your employer see’s fit to pay you enough to raise that pistol you have hidden and play a game of chance or if a you’d rather step down from your seat and disappear?”

There was a stretch of silence.  It was clear the driver, an older man, his better days long past was considering the words of the man that stood in front of him.  Many years his younger and a rifle that was so clean and so well kept it caught the rays of sunlight through the trees.  It was clear this highwayman was not bluffing.  “Good sir, I am thirsty and I do believe there is a town not to far back the way I came.  I think I’ll get myself a drink.”  Tying up the reins  on the bench seat he sat on he stepped down.  Brushed his hands off on his pants and made a quick jog back down the road.

 

The drapes that were pulled shut cracked and eyes followed the driver as he ran down the road.  Panicked whispers could be heard coming from inside and the highwayman walked up to the carriage.  Being sure to stay in a position where he could use the windows to his advantage and being sure the line of sight he gave the people sitting in carriage was limited.

“To the people sitting inside the carriage I have four things I need you to do.  As I speek these things I expect to see it happen or I will fire in the window and I hit who I hit.  I can rob you of your goods or you life.  One, how many of there are you?”

There was some confused whispering then a woman yelled.  “Four.”

“ Two, I want your weapons tossed out the window, this means firearms and knives.”  The highwayman waited but nothing happened.  “If I don’t see weapons falling to the road, the person sitting in the front right window dies.”

Weapons started to drop out of the window, two pistols, two knives.

“Good, three, I want you to step out very slowly, hands in the air.”

The highwayman knew that this is where things got dangerous.  This is generally where people did desperate things.  He had strapped the rifle over his back and had his hands were in fake pocket gripping both pistols.  The door was pushed open and slammed against the carriage wall.

“Settle down now.  Be good and slow.”

The highwayman watched two rather stunning women step out and wore  sour looks on their faces.  He couldn’t tell if they were disgusted by him or that their lovely spring dresses of blue and yellow were being dragged in the dirt.  Behind them exited a man with his hands up.

“Where is the fourth?”  From around the corner of the carriage and man appeared holding a pistol.  The lord who tired to play hero was no match for the highwayman.  The second it took the young lord to round the corner, the highwayman had his gun up, fired, and the lord collapsed to the ground.

The women screamed at the sound, worried that the shot was directed at them.  When silence returned they realized that a man lay on the dirt, rolling side to side, holding his gut, a white wig laying not far form his head.  The man was moaning.

“See what happens when you get stupid.”  The highwayman said.  “This didn’t need to happen.”

The women in the yellow dress ran to the man who was in sever discomfort.  “You killed him.”  She yelled.

The highwayman shrugged, it wasn’t the first life he took and he knew it wouldn’t be his last.

“How dare you!”  The man said and took a step forward towards the highwayman.

Another pistol was raised and pointed at the would be hero.  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“You have no honor killing a man like that.”

“Honor is not a concern of mine.” The highwayman glanced down at the dying man, an ever expanding pool of blood formed around him.  “Your ladies jewelry and whatever coin you have on you, are my concern.”  Tossing a leather pouch to the man.  “Fill it and you may have time to get him to a doctor before he bleeds out.”

“I think not!”  The man spit on the ground while the women coward behind him.  “I challenge you do a duel, to a gentlemen’s death.  Which is more than you deserve.”

“I really don’t have time for this, just fill the pouch.”

“Coward!”

The highwayman was no coward, he did have a rapier on him and he could use it.  He looked at the young lord.  “If you wish to die as well, I do not mind sending you to the reaper like your friend.”  Undoing the buttons to his cloak he raised a sword, keeping one of the loaded pistols in his hand until he was sure this was not a trick.  The young lord had his rapier out quick and was already walking towards him.  The highwayman decided to raise his pistol, pulled the trigger and nothing happened.

The young lord stood there smiling.  “It would appear God is on my side.”

“No, just luck.”  The flintlock pistol did not spark, silently the highwayman cursed himself.  Tossing it away he realized this dance was about to start.

 

The blades came together as the young lord attacked.  Expertly the attacks were deflected by the highwayman until the young lord drew the first line of blood with a lighting fast slash that tore a razer sharp opening in the highwayman’s cloak drawing a line of red on the tanned skin under it.  The highwayman flinched but noticed the young lord was taking satisfaction in the strike and the highwayman returned attack of his own.  Cutting the thin silk of lords shirt the young lords stomach was cut open and cut deep.  The thin fabric giving no protection.  Quickly the young lord’s hand went to his stomach to try to stop the bleeding but it was to late.  The highwayman followed up with a quick thrust and the point of the rapier pierced deeply in to the chest, the young lord collapsed.

Before his mind could register the shot the highwayman felt his chest burn and fell to his knees.  Looking up at the lady who stood in front of him holding a smoking pistol.  “Where’d you get that?”  Falling face first in to the mud of the road he joined the two men on the road to the reaper.

 

The End

The Vessel

My first through when coming up with idea for this story was to do something to do with a boat. Maybe something involving pirates, we all like pirates right? I was sitting in my lazy boy chair, stretched out, half a sleep, and this idea came to me. I hope you enjoy it.


The Vessel

               I enjoyed the winter months.  By 5:00PM the sun had set and I could venture out.  Collectors like myself had nothing against the day, not like I was a vampire or something.  No I was something far worse, from a time so old even God had forgotten about me.  I was no monster, didn’t eat human flesh or hunt little children to steal from their parents.  No.  I was something else, something with an undying need to add to my collection, to my life.

               Reaching for my black jacket I slide it on and smoothed out the collar of my black shirt and looked in to the mirror.  Fuck, I was a Thor looking son of a bitch, which made my job all the much easier.

               Deciding a good place to start the night off was the local coffee shop.  It wasn’t far from my downtown loft.  All the important people in this world would be getting off work, needing that shot of caffeine to help them attend that yoga class or the drive home.

               I couldn’t help but wonder with each soul I passed who would be the lucky one tonight?  A few women mistook my glances of malice as a flirt.  The kind of love I’d give them is the kind of love the Devil would show to his slaves, an eternal love of damnation.

               Turning the corner I saw people glued to their cell phone, vaping, no one smoked anymore.  As I approached I looked a the hipster standing outside.  His beanie slumped back on his head, thick black glasses, looking down at his cell phone.  Probably posting on Facebook or posting a new pic to Instagram.  How the world had changed.  Violence and power once ruled the world, now it was likes and followers.  But I wasn’t in a hipster mood so I moved past, giving him a bump he dropped his cellphone.  I could feel his eyes on me but the coward didn’t say anything.  A generation of gutless snowflakes.

               The coffee shop was busy.  Only a few seats left empty.  Standing in the obnoxiously long line I waited impatiently to get served.  Looking around, trying not to look like I had a twitch I spotted a woman sitting in the back of the coffee shop.  She was dressed in scrubs, nurse maybe? 

               “Hello sir, what would you like?” 

               The barista was cute, big tits, shirt too tight, wearing those black yoga pants.  Looking deep in to her eyes I could see her future.  It was empty, not worth it.  “Chai tea latte, large.”

               “$5.96 sir.”

               I tapped my card on the reader and got to stand in another line waiting for my drink to be made by another hipster, with stretched out ears.

               From the corner of my eye I watched scrubs, it looked like she was caught up in her book.  “Here you go, large chai tea latte for Matt.”  Looking at the barista I nodded, thanking her I made my way towards Scrubs.  Lucky for me the place had filled up and those empty seats had been taken.  Giving me the perfect opportunity to ask to join her.

               “Do you mind if I take this seat and join you?  Place is busy tonight.”  She looked up from her book.  It was a book on anatomy, probably a doctor to be or a nursing student.

               “Sure.”

               Her eyes lingered on mine, flashes of lighting burst through my mind.  I saw her future.  A doctor she would be, cure cancer, she had a great future in medicine.  Family, two kids, husband, fat and boring.  I enjoyed it when I could steal something from the world.  It brought me joy on a level so deep I couldn’t explain it to you if I tried.

               “Nursing student?”  I asked.

               “Yeah, almost finished, just trying to get out of my apartment that I feel like I’ve been locked in.”

               I nodded.  I was easy to talk to, call it part of my paranormal charm.  “Parents must be proud.  Seeing their daughter take up a life of assisting those during periods of suffering and pain.”

               “That’s my goal, to ease the suffering and to assist in healing.”

               “I’m suffering.”  That caused her to look deeply in to my eyes, which was a mistake.  Her eyes glazed over, she was smart, but not smart enough to avoid becoming bewitched.

               “Perhaps I should help ease your pain.”

               I smiled and took a sip of my chai tea latte.  “My, my, aren’t you in a hurry to get me in your bed.”  If anyone over heard us it would play as joke.

               She licked her lips ever so slightly, closed her book. 

               Fuck the people of the 21st century were easy.  I had harder time during the crusades to get people to fall under my spells.  I put it up to the lack of faith in a God that…well doesn’t seem to care anymore.  “Let me call us an Uber.  I don’t live far.”  I smiled, but we were not going back to my loft.

               A few minutes later an uber arrived, we got in and I gave him the address of some townhome across from a storage facility.  The drive was quiet, Scrubs was kissing my neck, her hands running up and down my chest.  I was in her head, this was not her acting under her own free will.  This was me running around in her head.

               The ride was short and we arrived 10 minutes later.

               “Thank you, have a nice evening you two.”

               We slide from the car and I stood there, Scrubs standing beside me.  I waited for the uber to disappear and then I walked across the street and in to the storage facility with Scrubs following. 

               I looked up at the camera’s that were recording us and as I did they shorted out and stopped.  We walked through the facility and we stopped outside number 6.  Unlocking it I lifted the gate up and lights flickered to life.  With a blink of an eye I set her free from her trance.  Shocked she looked around and then at me.

               “Who are you?  How did I get here?”

               I just smiled at her, there was no sense in chit chat.  She went to walk away and I grabbed her by the arm squeezed hard.

               “Let me go!  You’re hurting me!”

               I turned her around so she could look in my storage unit.  Thousands of small black onyx vessels absorbed the light.  Making them look like black holes.  I felt her body relax for a moment as the scene had distracted her.

               “What is this?”

               “It is my collection, some men collect toys, watches, I collect people.”  With her relaxed I let go of her arm, it was clear she was confused.  I pulled from my pocket a plain onyx cube and held it up to her.  “Can you hold this?”

               She reached out and as soon as it touched her skin the onyx cube melted in to her flesh.  She scratched at it turning the palm of her hand red.

               “What did you do to me?  What is going on!  I’m calling the police!”  By the time she reached for her cell phone it chattered to the ground and there beside it was a small onyx figure of her, perfect to ever detail only a few inches high.  Picking it up I looked at it and smiled.  “You will fit in nicely.”  Walking up to a shelf I placed the figure carefully on it, her soul swimming in the black  infinite of her prison. 

               Stepping back I looked at the shelves upon shelves, rows upon rows of trapped souls.  Knights placed beside present day warriors, doctors placed beside roman healers.  Every race, every culture, looked back at me in beautiful onyx.  I was the collector, my life tied to each piece, to each soul, and my collection was great.

The end.