Soul Chains

Bloating

I'm not too sure why I'm starting at this point to be honest. Probably because as I sit here on this table feeling bloated as fuck, I remember what I used to do when I had this feeling. This feeling of having consumed so much it's like maybe the more I eat the more I can squash down that empty feeling inside. And then you throw it all up because maybe some of that empty feeling empties out so to speak. Poetry right?

I heard about this theory once that the only reason we have cravings is because food is a distraction.

Unless you’re pregnant.

Shut up. We use food as a medium for social interactions and comfort. Honestly the language of food continues to grow and evolve and yet the only non-speakers are the ones riding the poverty line who seem to grasp the original concept of food as a necessary mandate to survival. We've added sprinkles and sugar, oil and fucking rosemary to every potato, beetroot and god damn lentil we can find. When did food become so complicated?

You're ranting again.

Ah. Maybe I am. What were we trying to achieve here?

I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to tell you how to explore your feelings, the therapist says we should -

Screw the therapist.

...Gladly. He's attractive. Smart too, good soul to harvest.

It's true. William Vanderbit is a hot piece of ass, and yet also a privileged white male therapist utterly convinced in his diagnostic capabilities because he finally got post grad after his 3rd attempt and hosted this webinar on how to deal with stressed millennials in the age of Gen Z.

Poor bloke is still trying to qualify as a specialised psychiatrist, but has to stick to a) youth counselling at an all-girls high school, and b) private sessions with yours truly to pay rent and car insurance for his 1998 VW Golf. A car that should have been written off when he boinked Leila (his personal assistant) in it.

I'm not sure - erm- our co-dependent relationship is exactly one that is well defined in the modern day DSM, so I don’t know if that is sufficient reason to doubt Willy’s skillies. Also we liked Leila? She has a "Queen B" tattoo on her left butt cheek.

True again. That tattoo was discovered when we saw her naked Bondi Sands tanned ass bobbing more against the VW window than on Will's willy. Probably because the window provided some much needed cool relief to the chaffing from the two sizes too small Victoria's Secret lace lingerie.

Anyway, I am bloated. This time though, it’s not exactly food in the dictionary sense of the word. Or rather, maybe it is food? Does it count as food if it does not nourish you but keeps the thing inside you alive? Does it also count if you can technically eat away at another human being's life essence. Don't worry no mouth to mouth dementor style sucking required.

Yeah but we could do that too. It's not necessary but some of the folks I lived with a few years back would really get into it with their vessels during feeding.

Yuck. I'm not exactly what you'd call a fan of hearing about Jinna's life in her dimension. She (technically genderless though) and I have been together for -guestimating- maybe 1 year now? It's been a rough ride, but we put down some ground rules and a verbal contract that sort of seals our mutual interests and ensures fair interchangeability.

Interchangeability?

Yeah okay, so we might need to explore that a bit more.

Meal Planning

"Good morning, welcome to Everlast Insurance, how can I help you"

Its Marcus. 34 year old scam artist Marcus O'Shea. He calls up at least once a week to see if there's any chance of speeding up his new girlfriend's life insurance claim on her dead husband. I'm sorry Marcus, but given that we don't pay out for suicide or potential murder, no I don't think her claim has been accepted.

"Hi Marcus, wow another call this week and you just can't seem to get anyone else on the line huh?"

"Oh Rosssiiiieeeee" he drawls. Well he clearly wanted to speak to anyone but me. Sadly, since I'm assigned to his file, any number he calls from will get sent through to me.

"Rosie Rosie Rose, c'mon sweets, you know our situation. We really need that money to sort out the funeral and Lucy is so upset"

No she's not. The PI I set on her saw her chugging back frozen daiquiris the night her husband was cremated. Funeral service was live streamed on Facebook. 4 people watched. The PI (pretending to be the dead husband's co-worker), Lucy, Marcus and Lucy's grandmother. Lucy's only living relative apparently.

So she only has one living relative and a boyfriend that would pretty much move on to a new affair immediately?

Oh fuck. Jinna's last *bleugh* "meal" was the McDonald's drive through worker I seduced in the car park.

Yep that was 3 weeks ago. We can do what we did then.... only take off maybe 5 years of essence.

Well technically, yes. But, the McDonald's worker was a recovering alcohol addict. Taking 5 years off his life actually fast tracked liver failure.

It's your own fault you follow up on them you know.

I like to keep track of Jinna's victims. It’s for personal research reasons. Not relevant right now.

"Hello? Rose? I just need a progress update. I read through potential appeal clauses on your general t's and c's if Lucy’s claim is declined..."

I zoned out and forgot about Marcus. He's really committed to this one, read the T's and C's and everything. Who even does that anymore?

Do it

I really don't want to. It’s the end of my shift and I really just want to go home and sleep.

Fucking do it!

"Hi Marcus, apologies I was just reading through the file notes for Lucy. I really think I need to ask her a few more questions in relation to her deceased husband's estate. Would you know if she is free tomorrow?"

Find out her plans for this weekend.

Jinna, I have plans this weekend.

"Awww Rosie, you're the only competent worker in that place! Thanks I'll let Lucy know, she's at a yoga class tomorrow morning but she'll be free after 11..."

I zoned out again. My mind was ticking. Is it grievous bodily harm or wounding with intent to injure if you're able to steal years of life from a person. Is it manslaughter if the person dies because whatever fate they had, which was 3, 4 or 5 years away, came to fruition now? Is anything even a crime if no one knows you committed it.

It’s only a crime if you get caught.

False. A crime is a fucking crime and you know that when you're committing it. Just because its novel in terms of statutory criteria, it doesn’t absolve you from the mens rea or actus reus. Because let’s face it, I definitely have both intent and action.

Shavasana

"And now lie on your belly and bend your knees, bringing your feet closer to your head. Hold each ankle in either hand. Now ready? Breathe in and lift, pull up chin up feet up, tight grip on those ankles and think about pulling it riiiiight over your head. Hold it there for 3, 2, 1...and relax"

Turn around, lie flat on your back, shavasaaanaaaa.

"Turn around, lie flat on your back, shavasana". The yoga instructor grinned through her recently whitened teeth and flexed her taut stomach. With a body like that, I'd be in tight fitting yoga clothes all the time too.

What is surprising is that Jinna seemed to have done yoga before.

The practice of Yoga pretty much pre-dates time itself since it’s about the universal flow of Energy. The hindus knew this ages ago and were probably the first ones in the human world to figure out its correct meaning. Now it has become this fitness fetish for the Westernised humans of this dimension and all of you have no idea what it means to connect to energy outside your own ego.

The corruption of spiritual practices is a touchy subject for Jinna. I disagree though. Yes a lot of spiritual practices have been corrupted, but people are trying to become more conscious of what makes up life as we know it. What makes you, you. Its more than the body, more than the mind. More than eons of genetic memory and maybe even a bit of karmic memory roped in there.

Yes, exactly. Where I'm from its just pure energy. We never had to consume anything to keep us going. We exchanged energies but energy never runs out. It's constant and there's enough for everyone.

Then why come to a pathetic dimension where you have no respect for the life forms here? You insist on feeding on the life essence of others, essentially bringing their deaths closer? Jinna, you sadistic fuck, you're telling me you don't need life essence of others to survive at all?

Jinna didn't answer. The heat in this room, and maybe the yoga itself had made her say more than she intended in the first place.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lucy was rolling up her yoga mat. Really? This bitch is so basic she can't lie through the entirety of shavasana? It's literally a corpse pose, how hard it is to be a corpse for the whole 3 minutes? Then again, it was my choice to stalk her yoga class this morning.

...because you didn't want to waste your weekend feeding me.

That's not what I said.

You said 'Murders are for weekdays, on weekends we nap'. It's not even murder.

Jinna and I don't agree on what constitutes murder. Let's say you know a cancer patient has 3 months to live. Jinna consumes 1 month of their life expectancy and they die sooner. What if in that one month they could have gone into remission? The cure to cancer was found?

It's murder. Murder of the possibilities of the time you are allocated because its snatched away by a tenacious demon.

You're overthinking it. Besides, theft would be a more apt description.

Theft of life is murder you freak. Jinna didn't argue further. It really is a contentious debate. She takes a few years, the person doesn't even know. No one knows how much time they have so death coming sooner than expected isn't something you question though is it? How often have you known someone, a loved one, an enemy, a friend, that has died out of the blue. How many of Jinna's kind is here in our dimension?

Lucy's gone. So has your window.

The other students were getting up slowly too. I really prefer lying here in this heat enjoying the present moment for the first time since...well since I absorbed Jinna into my meat suit.

Hindus would approve you. Remaining unattached to anything but the inevitable present moment is classic hindu wisdom.

Not if they find out I pound back medium rare steak for breakfast, or that I like some backdoor action. Where do Hindus stand on anal? The Christians make their stance clear, but I dunno about the rest.

"Hi there"

Looking up I see the yoga instructor beaming down at me. Getting up slowly to sit cross legged, I stretch and offer her a polite smile.

"You look like you've had an amazing session, and you're really good with all the different poses. Is this your first time here?!"

Pretty sure the only pose she saw me in was Shavasana since she never came down to the back of the class. Good to know I do corpse so well. Might make it my signature thing.

"Hi, yeah no um it’s my first time" I hesitated and then added, "I came because a friend recommended it"

"Oh would that be Lucy?" she asked, her grin wider. "Lucy is a regular here, I noticed you were following along with her postures"

Fuck. Okay so maybe this instructor does care about students at the back of the class. Problem though, I shouldn't be stalking a person I'm managing an insurance claim for. Could be seen as an overstepping of boundaries or something useless like that. Don't personally investigate your clients even if you think they're dodgy and not deserving of an insurance payout.

Insurance is a scam and Lucy was my next two weeks of sustenance.

"You signed in as Rose right? I hope we can see you here again sometime, Rose". The instructor gave me a final smile as she gracefully walked over to the remaining two students in the class.

She knows your name. I suppose it’s bad if she mentions it to Lucy? Why not use a fake name?

Yeah, I should have written "JINNA THE SOUL SUCKING DEMON" on the sign in sheet.

It’s probable Lucy would make a big deal out of it. Maybe even unlikely. I can pass it off as a coincidence right. Public yoga class anyone can attend, free country and I can do what I want.

This area is two hours from your house and place of work.

I STALKED HER FOR YOU.

Just take the instructor

No.

The last student's gone, just walk over and let me do my thing. She won't even remember

But I will. No.

Fine.

And the next thing I knew, I was lying flat on my back. An unintended shavasana. Maybe to become an actual corpse. Courtesy of Jinna. The room was spinning, a thousand stinging thorns were piercing into my lungs.

I want to breathe, but each inhale is torture. The blood in my veins burned. I'm on fire. The thorns - they're knives now. My heart is beating frantically. My adrenal glands fire in a desperate attempt to engage the flight response. How do I run from something inside me? There is no sound I can make for help. I want to claw at my chest and rip out the damn knives. I am in agony. Why is the instructor so blind to my pain? She's still in the room, apparently oblivious to my organs being peeled apart.

If pain is not articulated, whether by sound or gesture, people tend to ignore it. Humans cannot acknowledge things they cannot see or hear. It’s unfortunate you all have such dull insight into the energy of others, and you cannot sense distress without needing giant flashing lights or screaming requests for help.

This bitch was giving me another lecture. Please, Jinna.

We have a deal. If I can't take yours, you let me take another.

It’s a messed up deal. Jinna didn't ask for permission when she tied herself to my soul. But she did ask for permission to stay. Or rather, let me keep my life essence, as long as I continuously found people she could harvest life from. In small doses of course. Mainly so I don't have to build up a body count.

Fine. Yes. The yoga instructor.

The release in my body was instant. Like there wasn't shards of glass ripping through me just seconds before. I didn't waste time. Walking up quickly to the instructor, I tapped her on the shoulder and she turned to face me. I felt Jinna uncoil inside me, short electric pulses seemed to build against my navel and spread right to the tips of my fingers and toes.

"Yes?"

She didn't get anything out after that. A strong electric pulse burst from the centre of my chest and seized her whole body, enveloping her in an invisible orb like energy and leaving faint continuous throbs in mine. The pulse was alive and hungrily entered her chest searching for her core. I could see fields of electric colours radiating around her. Jinna was slowly stripping apart her energy layers. And finally, I saw the blue.

The blue, scarcely visible light - it came from her throat. Huh, for life energy to nestle in your throat is rare. This lady really is woke. Well what do you know, people really are trying to tap into enlightenment and actually succeeding these days.

She would die at the age of 93 under ordinary circumstances.

Jinna's voice, usually so clear in my mind, was coming from the outside this time. Just like a person standing next to you as they spoke. I looked down at my navel and I could see gentle yellow-orange waves of light, dancing around each other, forgetting who was who. Jinna was still tethered to me, albeit faintly.

So, how much are you taking?

25.

TWENTY FIVE? She'll die at 68. Anything that was meant to happen to her after 68 would fall back in the timeline of her life and happen much sooner. Heart attack at 75 she narrowly escapes? Welp, guess that might happen at 50. Car crash meant to sever a leg at 48? Might happen tomorrow now.

She looks around early to mid thirties?

Fuck.

The blue light in the instructor's throat dimmed. Meanwhile the electric pulses in my chest grew again, I was absorbing back the electric discharge I shot at this poor woman. But it came back louder, more aggressive, squeezing inwards from the smallest cells and pulling against my vibrating bones, trying to contain everything back inside and jam pack it in a space that wasn't available. The humming at my navel grew and grew, I was blinded in an inferno of yellow and orange when I looked down at my own core which struggled to bottle Jinna back and keep my own essence intact.

Squish up and make space

Start working your way through that poor woman's 25 years of life then. That'll give you some room.

With a final shiver, the last of the buzzing dissipated.

"Sorry did you say something?" - the yoga instructor had dark circles under her eyes now, and faint new wrinkles appearing on the crease of her mouth and brow. Her hair had the faint signs of thinning and appeared duller. She looked past me as she spoke and did a confused sweep of the room with her eyes.

I am so sorry.

"No, thank you I was just leaving, great class". I'm not important, you barely even remember my name. Just another first timer student that won't show up to your class again. Who did I come here with? Did I say that someone recommended me? You don't remember, it doesn't matter, I'm not important.

Her mind was tired, depleted, and easy to influence.

You're getting better at doing that. Barely used any of my energy to do it.

Another interesting tid-bit about having a parasitic entity attached to your soul by the way - our natural abilities as a person become amplified by their energy within you. I've always been good at getting people to see my side, or persuade a certain decision to be made. Now, with Jinna's “other dimensional” energy coupled with my own, I can reach inside a person's mind and influence what they think.

I could feel Jinna coil inside me uneasily. Was that indigestion or something else?

How did you do that so easily? You usually need my help. I need to hold their mind still. I need to reach in. You just did it by yourself.

Yes Jinna, I'm learning. For my own personal research reasons. Not relevant right now.

Jinna was silent. I guess she didn’t realise I was such a quick learner. My ultimate end game was two-fold:

1. I find out why Jinna and others of her kind, had to be living in this dimension, instead of their own .

2. I expel Jinna the over-controlling, slightly horny, leech but manage to retain that quirky little influential power .

Does expulsion of a leech sucking on your soul equal murder? We shall see. I seem to be learning a lot about my own values and ethics in relation to predicate crimes. Guess I can delve into that little nugget in my therapy session with Will tomorrow.

... to be continued.