A simple soul joins the swarms of energy between worlds, adding to the river of afterlifeness desperately trying to reach a bright light somewhere at the end of this void.

Moment by moment, during infinite time yet no time at all, that soul, like any others, slowly withers on the endless journey towards warmness.

Experiences, memories, emotions, all stripped away. Yet something is wrong. Where there should have been an abundance of felt emotions and their accompanying memories, there is just emptiness. And while sure, that is the ideal end state of souls to have close upon reaching the light, this one is premature in it's development.

At this rate it is going to fall apart long before it's intended goal.

But that was not the only thing wrong with this soul: It showed certain signs of awareness of it's surroundings, in stark contrast to the other souls who have ceased to be sentient entirely.

And it longs, clinging to a desire that is not necessarily strong, but can be filled in abundance in this void between realms – emotions.

Hungrily, this soul turns and shifts, changing it's course away from this light at the end of the tunnel, to look towards a different, closer goal. And for the first time in maybe ever, someone or something noticed that this big light at the end of the void is not the only light reachable by decaying souls – it is just the brightest out of an infinite amount of lights.

Like a moth to a flame, but with much less depressing results, this one broken soul drifts sideways, away from the river of souls, away from the biggest of lights, to reach the closest light it can – a teardrop-shaped light, filled with strong emotions: Lust. Murderous Intent. But most prevalently: Fear.

And while other random memories are slowly, but surely, stripped away and added to the endless void, this soul held onto it the core essence of it's own being.

What exactly that was, even the soul itself did not know, but it seemed important, so better hold onto it.

And in a dilapidated church, currently only occupied by three armed male figures and one haughty female figure, a being invisible to those four emerges from the void between worlds, drawn in by strong emotions and remnants of the divine.

-

The girl shivers in fear as she feels the heavy footsteps of the armored thugs coming closer. She doesn't know why she felt compelled to kneel down and pray, but she intended to keep going until she was saved or perished.

Yet her feeble body has different plans.

So she turns around, looking at people she would rather never see again in what might well be the last moments of her life, if she is lucky. And she sees the three thugs standing at different distances from her.

The biggest of them is just a few steps away from her, while the other two kept their distance for some reason.

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One of the two further back even opens his mouth to say something, which the girl barely registers.

"Hey Tayne, I've got a bad feeling about this place. Better hurry."

"Yeah, for once I agree with this haybrain over there", the other one adds, "This place gives me the shivers."

The big one, Tayne, turns around to adress his two weaker colleagues.

"Cowards. But sure, i'll drag her out. Then you can have your fun with her, but at least try to keep her alive this time. I don't feel like eating bread today and I'm too lazy to hunt."

With that being said, He turns back around and extends his arm to the shivering girl.

-

'Typical thug scene. Three dudes in what seems to be a medieval world imposing their strength onto the weak for short-term benefit. Read plenty of stories of those.

Now, the right thing to do would be to dispose of them, but how?

I can feel their emotions. They're pouring out like soup in a sieve. I can feel the girl's fear, too. It's like a thick, black goop surrounding her. It smells foul. It smells foul!

Oh wow, I think this is the first time I've truly smelt something foul! This is amazing! I need more! How about I go closer to this big thug? I can feel his greed, his lust, his elation! I feel like i can just... gobble it up!

Well here goes...'

And as the roaming soul sates itself on the emotions of the strongman, the girl noticed his movements getting slower, more sluggish, until just inches from her ankle, a muscular, hairy hand stops dead in it's tracks, and instead of carnal eyes lustingly staring at her, the only expression visible on that man's face is that of... emptiness. Just nothing. A void filling his pupils, all his facial muscles relaxing, his cheeks drooping down.

'THAT was nice! But still, seems like this is only a temporary measure. I want him GONE! And it seems like I can push deeper.

Yep, this seems to be his inner workings.

Now, if I want to stop a man, what would be ideal if I can't harm him physically? What about pushing my own feelings into him? Worked very well for me at least.'

The soul recalls the time he was lying in his bed, slowly withering away, feeling nothing at all, just waiting for something which he very well knew would never happen.

He remembers the absense of emotion, the absense of pain, and the futility of a continued life.

After all, what point is there in living, if there is no happiness to be found? What is the point in going to work every day, in carefully preparing your meals, in meeting friends and cleaning your house, if it all feels the same as just lying in bed, eating random moldy scraps and being alone?

If everything tastes the same, no matter how you prepare it, if you always feel the same amount of loneliness, no matter how many people you surround yourself with, if you can never feel a sense of accomplishment no matter what you achieve?

What point is there in life if there is nothing worth living for?

He thinks all this, condenses it into a single metaphorical ball, and pushes it all into the debatably pitiful thug. And the effects are immediate.

There is no drive left in this man. It's all just gone.

And with the mental will to live gone, his body soon follows suit, his face impacting the ground with a heavy thud, shaking the decaying stone for just a little bit.

Another soul joining the river. A very lethargic one, being picked apart in record time, never reaching the promised light and just dissipating into nothingness.

The other two thugs, witnessing their self-proclaimed leader just collapse like that, react instantly, albeit differently.

Where one carefully approached the body out of morbid curiosity, the other quickly turns tail and runs for his dear life.

He makes it close to the entrance before collapsing, the sound of a fresh body hitting the floor reaching the ears of the last thug, who does the only thing sensible to him in this moment.

He falls to his knees, eyes glued to the statue, and starts to pray, heart full with fear and remorse.

But mostly fear.