Soul Stripper

Every time they argue with me, I feel like it takes a piece of my soul. By ‘they,’ I mean everybody. My parents, my brothers and sisters, my ex friends, bosses, co workers and strangers all. This is why I lived alone and was very lonely, people were horrible to me and it sucked the life out of me. It was all thanks to what I called The Soul Stripper, a monster or demon so hideous it refused to come out of hiding. I could never see it, but I knew it was there, always hiding just out of sight.

My name is Alex Hale Marsh, and since I was a child I could feel a presence. Because of this presence and what it was doing to me, I felt old, so very old. At age twenty five, I felt like I was fifty eight. Now I feel like I’m over a hundred. My back hurts, my head hurts, my knees hurt and buckle, and my feet feel like someone is constantly sticking pins and needles in them and are in constant pain.

I called this presence The Soul Stripper because that’s what it did. It stripped away at my soul. I felt it’s power every time someone argued with me. It’s as if it was causing them to argue. I had no proof of this, of course, but I could feel it. I could feel it digging out chunks of my soul.

When I was a child, it caused the other kids to make fun of me and push me around, and when I tried to tell the teachers it made them oblivious to the bullying and they did nothing to help me. But when I stood up to the bully’s, the soul stripper sure as hell made sure everyone was watching, especially the teachers, and I was always the one in trouble. I’d get detention or suspension for defending myself. Then I’d get home and get in trouble for something I did at my house wether it was my fault or not, draining more of my soul.

The worst part was, even people I trusted argued with me, and about frivolous things too. They of course offered zero apologies, always draining more of my soul. You’d think you’d at least be able to trust your family, but not me. My family was a bunch of soul sucking, energy draining horrible argumentative monsters. They deserved to me sent to jail for all the emotional distress they’ve caused me.

“Thanks a lot, Soul Stripper,” I’d yell night after night, and would spit on the ground or in the air, hoping to eventually hit The Soul Stripper with a thick wad of my saliva.

Day after day, month after month, year after year, it’s presence grew stronger and stronger.

One day, my parents came to visit me at my apartment. I asked them politely not to touch or move anything, because they have an annoying habit of reorganizing everything without my permission, then breaking or throwing things out in the process. They’d break valuables and move other important items to places I couldn’t find.

I went to the bathroom for literally two minutes, and they touched everything. I told them they broke one of my items, a potted plant I’d been growing for months, and I couldn’t find several other items that I told them repeatedly not to touch. I told them again and again not to touch anything and they didn’t listen. They accused me of having anger issues and said “who cares that we touched everything, just get over it. We don’t have to listen to you.” I said they should apologize for touching and breaking my things or leave, so they ignored me, said I had anger issues because I didn’t want my things touched, and left, scoffing as if I did something wrong. I texted them later to ask them to apologize, and said I was entitled to be angry and they texted back that they’d done nothing wrong by disrespecting me, but would gladly pay for a therapist for my anger issues. Then they reccomended I “try meditation.” I recommended they shut up and try not breaking my crap. I haven’t talked to them since.

Everyone was like this in my life, provoking me, arguing with me, taunting me, and my soul was being chipped away at. The soul stripper was growing stronger and stronger. I could feel it.

I went for a drive. I bought a few snacks and brought them home, and when I got out of my car there was a loud bell ringing. My shoulders instantly tensed up, I looked around and no one was there.

I quickly ran to my apartment, walked up a flight of stairs, hearing the bell ringing the whole way, louder and louder, before I finally got to the door. I looked behind me one last time, frightened, shaking and sweaty, and nothing was there except a distant echoing of the bell.

I went inside and mumbled “damn you, Soul Stripper,” and turned on my television. I was so tense, I couldn’t process what was going on in the show.

Eventually I got tired and laid down, where I tried to ignore a whispering in my ear.

“I suck your soul” it sounded like it was whispering. I put my hands over my ears and ignored it.

Eventually I fell asleep, but had nightmares all night where something was chasing me and I couldn’t escape. It took out a pickax, caught up to me and picked away parts of my body, and made me watch as it ate them.

I woke up at five in the morning screaming and in a cold sweat. I called my therapist sounding lugubrious and groggy, and he told me to screw off and he was dropping me as a client. He said if I wanted to keep a therapist, I should stop being a clown and stop having dreams. How was I supposed to stop having dreams? This was typical human behavior, humans are idiots. He then called back and I sent the call to voicemail. I checked the voicemail a few minutes later and he said he sent me a bill for five hundred dollars for a “late night session.” I refused to pay someone for calling me a clown who needs to stop dreaming. He’s dreaming if he expects money from me. Plus he dropped me as a client, so screw him.

I tried going back to sleep but felt a presence hovering over me.

“Is that you, Soul Stripper? Did you cause my therapist to call me a clown and to tell me to stop dreaming?” I asked.

“Yes,” I heard a voice say. It sounded like my mothers voice.

I opened my eyes, then sat up in horror and shouted “Who’s there? I knew I felt a presence? Who’s there?” I asked this again and again before the adrenaline wore off and I laid back down, partially closing my eyes. ‘Just a dream,’ I told myself.

I saw a glimmer of light floating above me and quickly opened my eyes back up.

My mother was floating above me, her eldritch body glowing and her clothing slowly moving through the air, her smile full of sharp horrible teeth, her nails were long and sharp, her breath was black as night, and her mouth was oozing blood.

I screamed and my heart was racing.

“Why are you screaming?” She shrieked. My shoulders tightened and I could now see her sucking the soul out of me as I became more stressed.

I hated calling this thing my mother, so I’ll call her ‘it’ or ‘The Eldritch Horror from hell,’ for now.

I had an idea of it’s weakness. If I didn’t get stressed because of this thing, it probably couldn’t steal my life force or soul. So I took a breath and laid down and closed my eyes, despite the fact that it was still shrieking at an ear piercing level and hovering above me.

“What are you doing, my son? You can’t ignore me, I’m your mother,” she shrieked.

“Sorry mother, but you're causing me stress and stealing my soul in the process. I don’t know if you’re a ghost or a demon or a witch, but either way you’re one nasty, horrible monster. So not only can I ignore you, I’m choosing to ignore you,” I said, undaunted by her horrifying and glowing presence, and just hoped this would work.

“No, nooo, you can’t do this to me. You’re an ungrateful brat. After all I’ve done for you? You just don’t get it. Everything I did was to protect you, it was for your own good!” She said.

“I’m eternally grateful for everything you’ve done for me, but I’m still entitled to feel angry at you. I’m still entitled to get mad at you, especially when you or your husband is ignoring everything I say and breaking my personal belongings and doing other irritating things then saying I’m the one with anger issues! You provoke me and say I’m entitled? I don’t think so. Goodbye now,” I said.

With that, mother threatened to send me to prison.

“For what crime, exactly?” I asked.

“For not obeying me and letting me steal your soul,” she shrieked.

“That’s not a crime,” I said and smiled.

“Nooo, you’ve outsmarted me,” my soul stripping mother shrieked again.

The Soul Stripper then burst into tiny, creepy floating balls of orange flame. I guess she couldn’t handle being outsmarted and needed to suck out my entire soul to survive.

The floating orange balls started swirling around me, then traveled inside my body.

“Crap,” I muttered. I felt the urge to cause someone stress and suck out their soul. I guess I inherited The Soul Strippers ability to cause stress and suck souls. I can’t believe I was the new soul stripper.

“Thanks mother,” I muttered and floated into my neighbors apartment, laughing maniacally.