Submission : BDSM Short Stories

Three - The Wrong Door

     I fucked up my life by letting into my home a scared, pleading woman when she told me she was being chased, I could hear the man calling to her. "Claire!" His voice rumbled like an old train, so of course naive sixteen year old Emerson let her in. For being so kind to her she gave me a warning.

      "Run as far as you can and do not leave your spot until I find you," she said.

      And I did, I let this strange woman roam free in my house, and when I heard screams and smashing I just turned my music up louder. I knew she could come do to me what she was doing downstairs to me anytime but something told me she would repay my kindness double. The silence was deafening to me, even from beyond my music it was as if the whole house that stopped moving, I saw the tiny slip of lilac paper be slipped under my door with a double knock.

     "You cannot surround a lion with lazy sheep," her silky voice spoke through the door. "Thank you, Emerson, if you ever need anything, legal or illegal, ask your fathers financial advisers where to find me,"

     "Wait!" I shouted. "Do you have a name?"

      I could almost see her smirk through the door, "Souls, my name is Souls,"

     "Why?"

     "Because I take your soul in return for the investment in your life," she knocked once with her knuckles. "I will fight until the war is won, I threw away my faith long ago," I could hear her walking away. I scrambled up but for a woman so small she was quick on her feet, I managed to find her just as she left my house, I caught a glimpse of her long silver hair floating around the corner. This was the moment I vowed ro find her, no matter what I did or who I encountered I would find Souls and I too would fight until the war is won.

* * *

      My journey had taken five years, I had went to college and university to fulfil my late father's wishes. That was the only way to get my inheritance so I acted the part of a good little boy, I thought about tanking his business out of spite but it had been in the family for four generations and I felt bad ruining three other peoples legacies.

      I had spent years looking for Souls but, she as her name suggested, was a ghost. I left university and heard whispers from a shady friend of mine that there was a gangster bar down in South London that housed every originated crime gangster there was, including the Anza's and Child's, the two biggest crime families in the South.

      I had only decided to go under the pretence of a job, the new graduate who can't find a job in his field and needs some work on the side act, but I ended up falling into a rabbit hole I never thought I'd get into.

      The Underground was aptly names, it was an old unassuming building that looked as if it would crumble at the next gust of wind. The windows were murky and had bars on the outside, and the bricks were so dirty with years of grime that when I reached out the bricks were greasy and cold, my fingers came away almost black. The inside wasn't much better, once I opened the large double doors and let it slam behind me I instantly smelt the stench of stale beer, cigarette smoke and dried blood. When I tried to take a step my foot sunk into the carpet, luckily when I hit the worn wooden floors I could actually walk without falling to one side.

     I felt every Face stare at me as if I was a lamb to slaughter, as if I was a Barbie doll who walked into a Goth clothing shop. I was twenty one with skin that looked slightly grey and a face to match my exhausted demeanour, my dark hair was my best quality. I was an average looking guy, I didn't get many girls but I didn't get none, and I was happy with that, my mother always said the world is not perfect and that is alright because we have each other. I stood by those words even as her grave got destroyed by loan sharks who didn't realise Souls had gotten to my father first.