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Book Information
Genre:
FICTION / General
Publication:
Jun 28, 2009
Pages:
199
Books by Matthew Carter
This is the journal of a man with a secret. A man who travels along the path of other people’s souls, experiencing what they’ve experienced, learning about their lives, and expanding his own awareness in the process. There’s only one problem — he has to kill them first.
In the blood sprouts something special, something real. More real than his life has been.
As an agent of “the crimson exchange,” he needs to feel the flow of another’s blood over his hands in order to tap into their life force. Freeing people from the pain of their lives and searching through souls has become his addiction, something he hopes will lead him where he knows he belongs.
It’s…an addiction to kill for.
Hauled away
That night I slept a dreamless slumber. An absence of the constant harassing of being snagged and pulled away in an unmarked police car occurred that evening. No more details of the men that would catch me. I didn’t see the sun crawling a pink hue slowly up the horizon. The police didn’t politely and carefully ask me if I would go down with them to the station for fear of being sued and losing their jobs. None of that happened. The only thing that happened was that I rested longer than I had in a while.
Upon awaking I felt refreshed and anew. I was ready for the biggest shock to my system that my life will give me. A feeling inside me let me believe everything was going to be okay. My worries were going to be assuaged and I knew it. Something happened that night clearing away any doubts and fears that had bottled up inside me in the past about the direction my life was heading. I no longer worried about my placement and at least for a few moments I fine with who I was. Despite my uncertainty in the future I felt at ease as if I had accomplished something great.
It was about an hour before sunrise when I woke up. By the time I walked outside the sun’s rays struggled to be noticed. I sighed heavily, trotted down the stairs and out into the city. I doubted I would be able to snag another soul but I wanted to take a walk. It looked like it had the potential to be a beautiful day and few things were as nice as watching the sunrise on a cool morning. I left the knife in a safe spot just in case I was brought in for questioning. I was able to do something I hadn’t really thought of doing. I admired the buildings that stood for generations that through time had deteriorated and yet held a majestic glow. I could look at them and know how they looked like years ago. I imagined the fanfare the construction of the buildings had. Although still standing and exploited, the structures were dead. Even inanimate objects were used after their death to help create opportunities.
Walking through the city sprung up memories about my childhood I wished I could have forgotten. They stung in my brain like a wasp’s sting leaving me unable to push it back into a part of my brain I could ignore. It stayed up front and flashed startling images that startled me. The moments felt as if they were happening at that moment.
The first memory was reliving watching my father kill my mother. Just the simple act and no details about how anything looked except that the color seemed to melt away.
The next memory shifted quickly, I had run away and was alone on the streets. Nobody knew who I was, and I had no idea where I was going. My tears flowed down my cheeks as I contemplated my future. I needed something to hold on to, as well as someone to look up to. An older man whose hair was fading into brittle, thin twigs came and talked to me. He told me he was going to take care of me and love me. My tears were wiped away by his thick calloused hands. I thought he was going to bring me a new chance. I hoped he would raise me and teach me about existence and how I should live. Instead he led me into a room down the stairs in the back leading me cut off from any windows and anyone who would be able to help me.
When we were away from freedom he dropped his pants. I looked around bewildered and fearful. I wanted to run away, but my legs wouldn’t move. He walked to me grinning wickedly. I noticed something then that I hadn’t before. His eyes held something deep and sinister as if the Devil had taken over. He threw me on the floor and forced himself upon me. After ripping off my pants he drilled himself deep within me. The tears streamed down my cheeks and I felt intense pain entering my backside. Harder and harder it splurged inside me, stretching me. Eventually I felt a substance slipping down from my anal cavity. There was too much liquid in it to be anything but blood. The pain became so severe that I fell into the unconscious world. Upon awaking I saw that I was out on the streets and while my rear end had stopped bleeding, my head was sore and a slow, steady stream of blood caked my hair.
After my fearful experience slipped away, another one crept into my head. I saw the man who had followed me to where I slept and when I finally noticed what was going on, I tried to run far away, so far that I got lost in a part of town I rarely left again. I knew I couldn’t go back. There was a big chance that the middle aged man would find and molest me. It happened earlier with others and I knew there was a good chance that it would happen again. I just wasn’t strong enough to fight their urges. I was just a child and I wouldn’t learn how to fight back until years later.
During the flashbacks, I must have caused some sort of ruckus as there were police everywhere stalking my every move. They saw me and were careful in drawing near. The sun was beginning to scratch the surface of the darkened sky revealing a cool pink glow. Just as I had seen in my dream I had carefully been apprehended by the police. I was frightened by the possibility of being locked up for something that was so pure and honest. If they knew my true purpose and the joy it brought, I thought perhaps they would treat me like royalty.
But I could never tell them, if they were lucky they would get to feel it for themselves.
They approached me slowly and cautiously as if something big was on the line. I asked no questions and they gave me no answers. While putting on the handcuffs, they didn’t force me into the car; just a gentle push to make sure my head didn’t bump against the top of the unmarked automobile. The back was surprisingly comfortable, not leathered but at least cushioned.
No words were spoken on the ride to the Police Station. The silence was thick with words that were never said, and situations that weren’t discussed. I nervously wondered if they had any idea of the things that I had done. My hands sweated cold and my mind flashed my life before my eyes. They finally stopped the car, opened the door and let me out. I knew that it was all over. At least then I would be able to touch souls inside prison. Opportunities would fill the night sky; and although there’d be several situations that would literally drive me insane, I also had the chance to see their nature that used to have at least a tinge of innocence hiding.
They calmly led me to my holding cell. They may have said something about my fate, but I couldn’t listen. I was just too frightened. I realized it might be my new life. I had to deal with it. The holding cell wasn’t as nice as the police car, but I had been in worse places before. I didn’t know how long I would be locked up there before I was transferred for the court case, but I liked to believe that I would be ready for anything that came my way.
About Matthew Carter
About the Author: Matthew Carter has always been interested in what makes the human mind twist and turn, seeking the moment that a person’s thought process goes from a sane and productive mechanism to a form of mental cancer. Carter lives in Romulus, Michigan, and Liquid Soul is his first novel.
This is the journal of a man with a secret. A man who travels along the path of other people’s souls, experiencing what they’ve experienced, learning about their lives, and expanding his own awareness in the process. There’s only one problem — he has to kill them first.
About the Author: Matthew Carter has always been interested in what makes the human mind twist and turn, seeking the moment that a person’s thought process goes from a sane and productive mechanism to a form of mental cancer. Carter lives in Romulus, Michigan, and Liquid Soul is his first novel.