I can't take credit for finding the book. It found me. It waited for me, sitting on top of a dumpster, its cheerful cover like an alien intruder to the drab back alley. And like a moth to a flame, It drew me in.
For the first time since I can think, there was something that I took interest in. Its situation atop a pile of trash was a clear sign that it had been discarded, considered worthless by the masses. But I understood the sign. When I opened the rosy pages, it was as if it spoke to me.
How to save your soul in 3 easy steps
- Find your soul mate.
- Take back your soul.
- Set your soul free.
I always knew that there had been something wrong with me. That I needed something. And that no money, no success, no medication, no glory would ever provide what I wished for. I slipped the book under my jacket and did not went to work that day. Nor have I ever since. There is nothing for me. There never was.
At home, I've been reading like in a fever through the rest of the book. I know every single instruction by heart. It's only three easy steps.
First, I needed to find my soul mate. The book provided a page, blank except for a picture of the head of a mannequin. It told me to focus on it, until the face of my soul mate became clear in my head. It was simple. I would recognize his face anywhere. But you don't get far with just a face. I needed a name.
At first, I aimlessly searched the internet for pictures of people that looked like him. To no avail. After days, I knew there had to be another way. And just like fate gave me a sign with the book, it gave me a sign this time again. The happening at the airport came just when I needed it.
170 million photographs. Sorted by gender, age and nationality. Judging him to be in his early fifties, I could reduce the data set to only roughly 22 million pictures, accounted for duplicates still five million. If I spend 20 hours a day looking at one image every second, it would only take me ten weeks. Less, if I looked at multiple in parallel.
Three weeks later I had a name. From there, it was easy to track him down. A middle-class business man, living a boring life working at a boring company with a boring wife and boring children. I emptied my bank account and moved to the city where he lived. I only took the book with me.
Once there, I started to tail him. Learn his schedule. Every step he took outside his home or his work place, I was there to follow him. When he slept, I prepared for the next step.
Secondly, I need to take back my soul from him. I needed a plan. I could corner him somewhere where he couldn't escape me when the time comes, but what then? Once again, the book had a page on finding tools. Hidden symbols, only known to the initiated, used by gangs, cults and other secretive groups to mark their territory in plain sight.
I bought an UV flashlight and roved the city whenever he was at work. I actively avoided the light and open areas, veered away from the crowds into dark and dirty corners. I explored parts of the city where unadorned concrete loomed over narrow passages. Some of the buildings felt like they had no other purpose than to blot out the sky. In this oppressive maze of empty alleys and unpaved backyards I hunted for invisible graffiti.
Following the cues only visible under black light led me even deeper into the underworld, until I found my self in a dead end street with stinking gutters, where one man with a bag over his head was beating up another on the floor with a crow bar, whilst a third was slamming his head against the wall. I couldn't tell which of them was giggling manically.
The shine of my flashlight revealed another glyph, as well as traces of dried blood all over the floor and walls. I double-checked the glyph with the ones from the book, and knew that I had found what I searched for. Determined, I pushed past the freaks with their heads in bags. They paid me no attention. And just as promised, there was a metal locker, slightly slanted.
It was full of guns and ammunition. Careful to follow the instructions from the book, I only took what I needed. A pistol and a single magazine. On my way back, the person on the floor and his assailant jeeringly swapped places as it was to the other's turn for brutal violence.
I have not slept since. But I know that today will be the day. The pistol weighs heavy in my pocket. I never fired a gun. But it's only an easy step. I can do it.
My target is only a few meters ahead of me, unaware of my presence. But we are in a dense crowd. Faceless masses passing by me, an ocean of anonymous bodies whirling around. It is difficult enough to keep pace with somebody so used to the buzz of the city.
I nearly lose track of him, but his face is like a beacon in the middle of the night. I speed up my step. Dodging others, politely jostling through, yet still bumping into people left and right. It's as if the crowd is in on what I've planned and tries to hinder me.
Struggling against the human tide, I use my elbow as a wedge to push through and can gain distance. I can almost hear his breath. Just a little bit farther. Is he aware he is being pursued? No, he can't be. Only a single woman is now between us.
I shove her aside and forcefully grab him by the collar. He turns around, indignant, then confused, the frightened when he sees the gun in my hand. He looks up to my face, and for a brief moment, I see a sliver of recognition hush across his face.
Then I fire.
For a moment, it appears like the world is too shocked to catch up with the events. Then everything happens at once. People scream, and trample each other trying to get away from me. My soul mate keels over, his shirt drenched red.
I grin. Now there is only one thing left to do.
Thirdly, I need to set my soul free. Now that it is mine alone, all I have to do I raise the gun to my temple. My finger tenses around the trigger. Finally, my wish will come true.
It really is easy.
