The Soul Lives On: Excerpts from the purple book
I would like to preface this by saying I have no idea where this was written because I can not decipher what "R's H" means in my notes. I know I was not yet in the Army at this time and I'm guessing the H means house. Other than that I have no clue.
It wasn’t the first time he had challenged the denizens of the sewers, and as each time before, he hoped it wouldn’t be his last. Unlike the previous expeditions he led, he went solo.
As he looked around, in the dim light of his lantern, he was trying to remember why he went solo this time. He hit himself on the head for his stupidity.
He could feel that never ending echo of dripping water almost beginning to drill its way into his brain. He trudged slowly onward into the gloom that was the sewers crawled in as he moved.
He trudged forward with one hand on his abdomen. He was trying to stop the blood from flowing out of him. He was beginning to feel very tired as he walked on. Then he fell to the ground and stopped moving.
After a few minutes he got up and looked around. As he reached for his lantern he received a very large shock. For, next to his lantern, lay his still body.
He yelled out loud but no noise came out of his mouth. He began to run away in fear and shock. Yet, at every corner, he would end up at the same place, looking down on his dead body.
As he lay there crying a cold wind began to blow through the sewers. He sat there like that for many days until a group of three city workers chanced upon his body. He tried to scream for them to help him but he only succeeded in frightening them away.
A few more days passed. He began to realize the full extent of his predicament. Unless his body was buried soon, and on hallowed ground, he wound end up a sewer spirit for ever. This scared him to no end. Then he saw a group of four approaching.
He recognized three of them as the city workers from a few days ago, the fourth was dressed as a priest. The priest drew forth his instruments and began to chant. He began to feel at peace, for a while. Then it hit him. He was dissolving.
This was no service for the dead but a banishment ritual designed to rid the sewers of foul spirits. He tried to fight it, to scare them off. It did not work.
He soon found himself in a bland blue realm, alone. There was no one near him and nothing to be seen in the distance. He had been banished, and now he was mad.
- end part 1 March 4, 1990 11:45 AM R’s H
If you liked this, leave a comment. If you did not like it, leave a comment. This work was transcribed with no editing at all. It is as it was written in my purple book.










Well…that was different from your usual posts. Do you have a series of short stories?
Yes, some are already on the blog, hence the “stories” category.
After reading through the old purple book this may be the last entry from said tome. Most of the stuff in there was written during my “teen angst emo” years and it is very bad. I mean real bad. We’re talking ,”boo hoo, my girl doesn’t love me, everybody hates me, I’m going to go eat worms” level of bad.
I have an earlier collection that I may raid on a weekly basis that has “better” stuff.
I recall your first “acid man”/bad poetry post which gave me an idea you were an angst-ridden teenager. Until I saw Ed Lau’s link to an emo video:
http://www.ededition.com/speed-link-sunday-may-27th/
I was clueless about this variant of teenage angst.
But back to the story you posted, how old were you when you wrote it? Sounds like you were deep into sci-fi and fantasy books at the time. Since it’s only an excerpt or snippet, I can’t say whether I’d like the story or not as I can’t connect to the protagonist in any way.
So far, I like your Army stories better. Nothing like some real-life experience to add depth and character to a story!
I think I was 18 when I wrote it. Still wet behind the ears. Yep, a lot of that old stuff is bad… There are a few gems in there but not many.