FFM 24: The Soul-Eater

   The labyrinth was pitch black, and cold as ice, but neither mattered too much.  Clyde had lost the benefit of light and warmth when he lost his body.  He could no longer recall how long ago that had been, nor how wonderful the sun’s light had felt in those days.  All he knew now was the terror and agony of a million deaths.  

   Somewhere in the tight twisting corridors, the beast hunted.  He could hear it coming, tirelessly searching for him and devouring everything in its path.  It had already found his brothers, as well as his sister, and he had never imagined that one could be so afraid of death even as a spirit.

   Turning a corner somewhere in the far edges of the endless maze, he came to a halt, face to face with the nightmare that had stalked him for ages.  He tried to run, tried to flee, but his intangible, invisible legs moved as though in a dream, floaty and drifting.  Behind him, the eyeless beast opened its enormous gullet, ready to consume what was left of his spirit, for what seemed like the millionth time.  And all the while, it made that terrible guttural noise:

   “WAKA-WAKA-WAKA-WAKA...”