#chasing souls

[arcanecaster]

Chasing Souls- Chapter 2

Genre: Supernatural

Rating: T 

Warning: Not really in this chapter. A spooky ghost story, I guess.

Words: 1330

I really suggest listening to this while reading. Heavily helped me in writing this chapter.

7/6/2017: Edited the ending of the chapter to make dialogue less cheesey and more realistic. please reread

     Satin looked herself over in the mirror. She couldn’t believe how different she looked. Her brown hair gently brushed her shoulders, wavy and longer than she thought it was. She always had kept it pulled back up so it wouldn’t get in the way of her reading. The dress wasn't as tight as she thought it was going to be, but it still showed off the natural curve of her hips. It stopped right above her knees, and the boots were enough to cover up most of her legs, but she still felt overexposed. She rubbed her ribbon again and looked at the girl in the mirror. Nervous green eyes peered back at her, and she gave herself a reassuring smile. 

      A horn honked outside, calling Satin's attention to the window. Allan waved from his Charger in his usual t-shirt, jeans, and leather jacket. At least he had combed his hair.       Satin tromped down the stairs in the heavy boots, past her mother who was making sandwiches.       "Don't you wanna invite him in to eat?" She asked, holding up a butter knife covered in mayo, but Satin shook her head.       "We'll probably eat out! I'll see you later!"       "Be back by ten."       "Okay, Mom!"         Satin slammed the door shut.

            Satin settled in the cozy leather seat of Allan's car. Allan didn't say anything, almost didn't notice she was there.        "Uh…. Hey?" Satin greeted, putting a hand on his arm. He was shaking.        He quickly jerked away physically and jerked out of his thoughts.       "What the hell!?" he growled.        Satin flinched and his eyes softened.        "Sorry.. I just… didn't see you get in the car. I was thinking. Yeah," he murmured.       Satin sensed something off in his tone. And why was he shaking like that?       "Allan, are you okay? Something happen at home?" The words "parental problems" came to her mind again.       "I'm fine. Stop asking.”       "But you're shaking-"       "I'm fine! We're in Michigan and it's November, it's cold as shit! I said stop asking, so stop," he snapped.       Satin sank into her seat.       "…Okay. Let's go already," she said quietly, after a moment.        Allan pressed on the gas, and the car lurched forward. 

            Carston was a small town. Allan had driven around the town at least three times, and he kept looking around silently, a nervous expression on his features. Satin watched, bored, as they went by the McDonald's again. Her stomach grumbled, and she was even willing to tolerate a greasy burger if Allan would just stop somewhere. What a lovely anniversary.        "Do you know where we're going?"         Allan grunted.        "Allan?"        "It's… uh… a surprise," he answered after thinking for a minute.        Satin sighed, "Okay…" and looked out the window again. He had driven out into the rural outskirts of Carston, which were covered in a thin slush of snow. The trees rolled by quickly, and Allan made another turn. Satin glanced at the clock. 7:40. Allan had been driving for forty minutes, and Satin was starting to get annoyed.        "Can we at least go eat?" Satin asked as her stomach growled again.        "After."       "After what?"        Allan remained silent, his eyes glancing around everywhere but her. He was definitely upset, Satin could tell by the way he was closing himself off to her. He kept his arms and legs drawn in, when usually while driving, Allan would occasionally brush her hand and smile at her and joke. Satin wanted to say something, but when Allan got like this... it was no use. If she tried, he would just snap at her. She sank into the leather and looked out the window again. 

           Out of the blue, the car started to slow, and it lurched to a stop. Allan turned off the car and pulled the key out of the ignition. He pocketed it and glanced at Satin through the open door.       "Come on, let's go. We're here."       Satin got out and stretched her legs, looking around. Allan had parked on the side of the road in front of the town park.        "The park?" Satin asked, looking up at the tall iron wrought gates.       "Yeah. Got a problem with it?"        "No... it's actually kind of romantic. I just don't understand why we drove around for so long."        Allan shrugged, looking for words.         "I... uh... Can't I drive around with my girlfriend on our anniversary?" Allan questioned.  "Whatever. Let's just go."        Allan went ahead of her and opened the gate for her. As Satin passed him, she finally recognized the look on his face.       He looked guilty.

            Satin huddled against Allan for warmth. It was completely dark now, and the temperature was so low Satin could feel her teeth chattering. She hugged his arm, but he didn't bother to wrap an arm around her or offer her his jacket. Why hadn't she put one on like her mother had told her all day? The cold just reminded her of how short her dress was, and she felt even more uncomfortable.        "This park has seen better days, huh?" She tried, nudging Allan a bit. He looked around. The paved path was cracked, the trees and bushes were dead, and some of the lamps along the path were flickering. When Satin looked at Allan's face, however, she noticed how nice he looked in this light, and how his eyes sparkled. Despite how he was sometimes, she couldn't deny he at least looked good. She just wished he didn't look so upset.        "Hey..." she said softly, gingerly grabbing his hand.        "What?" he asked.        "I love you. I know something might have- how do I say this without you getting mad- .... happened. At home." She strained for words, tiptoeing around his temper. She added quickly, "And you don't have to talk about it now, but... I'm here for you."       She squeezed it with conviction.       Allan was quiet. He looked down at his feet and let out a little sigh under his breath. He slipped his hand out of hers and patted her shoulder.        “Thanks, I guess...” he said. His eyes looked a little watery.       “I meant it!” Satin said, wrapping the other teen in a big hug.        Over his shoulder Satin noticed something off the path, covered in thick, dead briar.         Allan wiggled out of the hug, looking annoyed, but Satin was already gazing off in the direction of the object, her interest caught.         “What the hell are you looking at?” Allan inquired.        “There’s something in the bushes over there.”         Allan looked in that direction.          “Huh... I dunno. Who cares?”

        Satin wandered towards it, her legs shaking a bit. It came to her mind that Carston wasn’t the safest town. She kicked away the briar to reveal an old well. It’s red stones were cracked and sun bleached, and the handle was snapped off and nowhere to be found.         “What is it?” Allan called. Satin heard him rustling through the brush after her.              “Just some old well-” Satin started, turning to face him, but she was interrupted by Allan pushing his lips into hers. 

        It was a sloppy kiss, but his lips were so soft. Allan wrapped his arms around her waist, exhaling through his nose. Satin was startled and felt heat rush up to her face. Allan’s hands slid up her back, and she gave in, tilting her head to kiss him better and closing her eyes as he pushed her against the well. 

        For a moment he stopped, breathing hard. He looked emotional, and his brown eyes almost looked red in the light of the streetlamp.  Satin’s face was beet red and her lips curved into a little smile.          “Allan-”          Allan grabbed her shoulder again and kissed for another long moment. His cheeks were wet. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I’m so sorry.”         Allan shoved her as hard as he could. 

        It happened so quick. She scraped her knees on the brick. A scream ripped out of her throat. All she could feel was gravity pulling her down, taking her faster and faster, away from the streetlights, away from Allan. The inky black dark of the well swallowed up her vision, and she was gone. 

[arcanecaster]

Chasing Souls - Chapter 1

Genre: Supernatural

Rating: T

Warnings: Abuse (Just one really hard slap); death mention

Words: 1859

Notes:  The real story picks up, and we meet our main characters!! also, this is only my second draft of my story, so please be gentle, but if you have suggestions, please pm or inbox me!      Carston High School had to be the lowest scoring school in the entirety of the state of Michigan. So it wasn't hard to get in the top 25 of the senior class for Satin Coller. She quietly chewed the rock hard toast that the school handed out as "breakfast" and looked at the number 15 out of 134 kids in her class on her report card.  She could've easily been number one if she tried her best, but she was going to get the scholarships her parents wanted her to get, so who cared?

     Satin put down the toast and picked up her phone, scrolling through the news. All she saw was the usual depressing statistics about the homeless and constant coverage of the war in the Middle East, so she sighed and put her phone back down next to the inedible toast, rubbing the red ribbon she wore around her neck. 

     “Need me to throw that away?" someone asked. 

      Satin jerked her head up to see a familiar smirk. A wiry teen boy, with black hair that was cut a decent length except for the bangs, which swooped and covered half his face. The ends were dyed green. Allan Walker, Satin's boyfriend.       Allan Walker was a slacker, and most people, including Satin's parents, thought he wasn't good enough for her. He pulled about a C average in school, and made no effort to participate in any extracurricular activities. However, Satin found that he had a certain bad boy charm about him. Even though they had started dating in the fall of their junior year, she had never been to his house. When she had asked about why he never invited her over, he had mumbled something about "parent problems" and left it at that.

      "You changed your hair," Satin said with a bit of a surprise. He had the bangs dyed red their whole relationship. 

      "Well duh," he said, tossing the toast and sliding into the seat next to her. "We're going on a date tomorrow. It's our one year anniversary. Remember?" 

      "I remember," Satin replied, and she grinned, "But how do you know I don't have plans?"

     The comment stung a bit, but Satin had gotten used to Allan's… straightforward nature. And it wasn't like he was wrong. She spent most weekends alone reading, studying, or with Allan.

     The bell rang and Allan got up. He pointed fingerguns at her as he walked away. 

      “7 o' clock sharp tomorrow, girly, I'm gonna pick you up."

     Satin smiled. Something in his eyes told her he was planning something special.

     Satin hated Calculus with a passion, but she was unfortunately blessed with a high enough test score test score to get stuck in second period Calculus for the whole senior year. It was only November, but she already had the dreaded senior-itis. Most nights she spent talking to Allan on the phone or just plain procrastinating, which dragged her grade down to a borderline C. Satin shrugged off the fact and assumed that if she picked up the slack in the second semester, she would get her scholarships and her parents wouldn't be too angry.

     She was more focused on tomorrow right now anyways. Even now, she was glancing up at the clock between problems. This day couldn’t get longer…. 

     When Satin finally stepped out to the parking lot, feeling free as a bird, she was surprised to see Allan pulled up in his rusty old Dodge Charger. She blushed a bit as she slipped in the front seat. It was rare for him to wait for her. 

     “I thought the date was tomorrow,” she said, shifting in the cracked leather seat.

     Allan grinned at her. 

     “Can’t I be a gentleman sometimes?” 

     “I’d prefer you’d be a gentleman all the time.” 

      He shrugged as he shifted the stick into first gear. 

      “You know I’m not that kind of guy.” 

      Satin sighed and leaned into the leather, letting it cradle her as she watched their school disappear into the distance as Allan pressed his foot to the gas. An enjoyable sight to start off the weekend. As they drove, her eyes rested on Allan’s hand on the stick shift. As he pushed the stick into third, Satin saw sunlight reflect off his bracelet. For as long as she’d known him, he always had that bracelet on. It was made of silver and in the shape of a rattle snake wrapped around his wrist. The scales were so intricately carved if it had moved Satin would’ve believed it was real. Satin’s mind wandered to the first time she had asked about it, when they were getting ready for junior prom last year.

      “Oh come on, Allan, you’re in a tuxedo. You can’t wear that thing to prom! Why do you always wear that thing anyway?” she had asked.

     “Why do you wear that stupid bow on your neck all the time?” he had shot back. 

     Satin had simply rubbed the ribbon nervously and replied, “I have my reasons…”

     “Exactly. So don’t ask again and I won’t either.” 

     And that had been the end of it. 

     “We’re here,” Allan said, snapping Satin out of the uncomfortable memory. 

     She opened the door and Allan smiled at her. “See you tomorrow, sweet cheeks.”

     Satin smiled back. “See you,” she said happily, and she got out of the car. Allan had gotten better lately… she couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

      Satin only regretted procrastinating in class a little as she did her Calculus work at her personal desk. She had to push aside all her checked out novels that littered the desk to make room for her Calculus book. At least she had something to do to pass the time until tomorrow, terrible as it was. There was a knock on the door. 

      “Come in,” Satin called out. 

      The door cracked open and Satin’s mother poked in. She was a woman in her late thirties with short, tawny brown hair, the same color as Satin’s but cut in a pixie cut, caramel colored eyes, and a plump frame.

       “Hey, sweetie! How are you doing?” She asked, staying hidden behind the door. She had that excited little tone in her voice that told Satin that she was about to spring something on her that she thought was going to be amazing. 

     “Good….” Satin answered cautiously, bracing herself.

      Without hesitation, her mother cooed, “Good, good, my day was great, whatever- I got something for you today!” 

      Her mother stepped out from behind the door, holding an black, short, strapless dress with short sleeves and a pair of black boots that had red straps. Satin could already see the dress was going to be form fitting and pulled her sweater around her uncomfortably. Her mother’s face fell. 

      “You don’t like it, do you?” She sighed. 

      “N-no! It just… s-seems a little short.” 

     “Well I thought you could wear it to your date tomorrow since it’s the big anniversary!”

      The thought of wearing that dress in front of Allan made Satin’s face flourish into a crimson color. 

      “Oh come on! You’d look good in something that’s black and not a sweater… you’re always bundled up all the time.” 

      “Most parents would want that for their little girls.”

      Her mother rolled her eyes. She looked at Satin and her face softened. 

      Satin looked down. She only had vague memories of her father. He had died was she was five. Her mother had told her that he had been involved with a bad crowd when he was alive, but neither of them knew if that was related to his death. He just disappeared one night, and a few days later the police called to tell them they found his body in a ditch. The night before he left, though, he had given Satin the ribbon and told her to never go anywhere without it. 

          “Yeah…” Satin mumbled, rubbing the ribbon between her fingers like she always did. She was surprised that she hadn’t worn a hole through the fabric. 

       “You wearing that tomorrow? I bought the boots with the red to go with it,” Her mother asked. 

      “Of course!” 

      She came over and brushed Satin’s bangs out of her face and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

      “Good. I’m gonna put this on your bed, wear it tomorrow if you want. Be safe. Don’t forget that ribbon,” She smiled at her from the doorway. “And don’t work too late, okay?”

      Satin nodded.

      “I won’t. I love you.” 

      “Love you too. Goodnight.”

     She closed the door, leaving Satin to her math homework.

     Allan pulled into the driveway of an old, rundown house. Weeds lined the sidewalk as he walked up to his home. The bronze "3" of his address marker had fallen off the door and sat at his feet on the concrete slab that he called a porch in front of the door. He sighed and kicked it away, then opened the door very slowly. He slipped in quietly, hoping she wouldn't be home. He closed the door with a little click, then her voice broke the silence.

      "Hello, Allan." 

      Allan had to keep himself from flinching. He turned and faced the tall, hourglass figure of a blonde with piercing green eyes that matched her short dress.  She looked to be in her late thirties, but she kept up with the fashion sense of women in their twenties, except for the snake bracelet on her wrist that matched Allan's in everything but color. Hers was gold. Allan looked at her, slightly afraid despite the fact that she had raised him from a child.

       She put a hand on her curvaceous hip. 

      "You haven't done it yet, have you?" she questioned. 

      Allan's eyes fell to his feet. 

     "No, Mom, but-" Allan attempted to say, but he was interrupted by a slap so hard that he saw white. 

     "I told you, Allan, to stop calling me that. You're eighteen now. You're about to join the business," She held up the bracelet on her wrist and nearly shoved it in Allan's face. "My business. The thing that's kept you alive all these years. If you're going to survive in it, you cannot show weakness by calling me 'Mommy'! You will call me Medusa, understand?" 

     "Y-yes, Medusa," Allan whimpered.

     "And you will get the assignment done. Got it?"

      Allan nodded silently, avoiding her gaze as his stomach twisted at the thought of his assignment. 

     Medusa sensed his uncertainty.

      "You know why you have to do this. She's your biggest tie, Allan. If they find her, they'll find us, and they're already on our trail! Unless you want me to lose everything, throw out everything I've done to keep you safe and alive, you're going to have to cut any ties you have and make sure they stay quiet." 

     Allan lifted his eyes to the heartless woman, but kept silent. 

      "You know your task. Get it done, or we'll both get killed by those damn reapers."

[arcanecaster]

Chasing Souls -Prologue

Genre: Supernatural

Rating: T 

Warning: Starvation warning (if thats a trigger for anyone?) ; death warning

Words: 393

This is my original work I’ve been working on... so uh, enjoy?

     The homeless man shuffled down the paved path in the Carston Town Park. It was the middle of night, and no one was around. He legs quivered under him, weak from the hunger. How long since he had eaten? A month? Maybe two? He couldn't remember. His legs could give out any second now.

     The homeless man was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't see the skinny figure leaning against one of the streetlamps lining the path. His bare feet stood at the edge of a pool of soft light projected by thee street lamp. Despite all he was wearing was a linen tunic and peasant pants that were reduced to rags, the early November chill didn't bother him. He was from a much colder realm. 

     The homeless man didn't notice the golden eyes in the dark observing his tired, slow march. As he passed through the light of the streetlamp, he didn't feel the bony hand brush his cold skin. He only took a few steps out of the lamp's light before his stomach twisted in agony for the last time and his legs buckled. As he hit the ground, the figure in the shadows watched the homeless man take in a sharp, short breath that was his last.

     The figure's gaunt features were much more apparent as he stepped out into the light. His bones protruded under his taunt, sickly skin, giving him the appearance of a living skeleton.

     "Such a shame," he sighed to himself as he approached the body, but the comment didn't sound genuine in the least. 

           He kneeled down, and as he did his mangy light orange hair hung in his face. He pulled something from his pocket. He smiled at the fragile looking wishbone before holding it over the dead man's slack and wrinkled face. The figure watched the familiar bright white light that was much brighter than the streetlamp flow out from the corpse's nostrils and wrap around the prongs of the wishbone, then fade into it.

     "I suppose that's another job well done…" he said quietly, standing up. He started to move the body into the shadows, hiding it behind a bush far from the lamp's warm light.

     The reaper had learned in all his years of taking souls that humans didn't prefer to see corpses on the roads they walked.

[arcanecaster]

Moodboard for Allan Walker- Chasing Souls

[arcanecaster]

i keep getting mad cause my brothers take my ideas and make them better than i even thought of in the first place. like, this is good, but it also just makes me pretty mad at myself @mightygamers

[arcanecaster]

So im sorry my freaking tumblr format doesnt show any of the breaks between lines that it should for my story, so it looks like one big wall of text with no time skips.

[arcanecaster]

Lady Killer

Haha. I think im funny. I was playing with some new pens and some shading with Allan.

[rp-reapermurder-blog]

About Me.

Social media is a fun little experiment of you humans. I guess I should introduce myself with a little bio....

Gender: I guess I appear as a human male. I mean.... I wouldnt really fancy being called a chick. So I’m a dude.

Age: Older than you, kiddos. (Though I look about 20 human years).

Race: Grim Reaper. 

Appearance: I’m 6 foot, average human build, shaggy brunette locks, red eyes, the prettiest white smile, and I have impeccable fashion tastes. In recent years, I’ve become rather attached to this red and black theme, especially my fedora! 

Occupation: I collect the souls who have befallen the fate of being killed... whether by my own hand or a fellow human’s. I am the facilitator of any and all murder in the human world, and I escort these poor souls to the Underworld where they start new lives as spirits.  

Personality: I’ve been described as fun loving before! I do love to have a good time... but I get serious when I need to. I have low tolerance for bullshit (I killed a dullahan who was being obnoxiously loud in my favorite bar). I appreciate manners. I’m a little bit of a ladies man, but I respect boundaries. I also respect the dead... I don’t kill for sport, I kill out of necessity. I’ve got a bit of a sick sense of humor though.... What assassin doesn’t?

Residence: The Manor on the Hill, in the Underworld. It’s a big old mansion on the outskirts of the main town. My ol pop Death owns the place, and I live with my brothers Famine, Pestilence, War, and Suicide. I’m kinda the middle child.

Likes: A finely crafted knife, concealable guns, pretty women, a good drink and cigarette, and I fucking love tacos man. Gotta give it to you humans, you guys invented something genius with tacos. 

Dislikes: Scummy people like the assholes I have to work with everyday, cowards, big weapons, show boats, and grapefruit. Don’t know why. Just be an orange, you red freak of nature. 

I guess that’s me.... If you meet me on the street, let’s hope we can be friends, because you’re gonna want a good few last days alive.