I loved my apartment near the hospital. I had a fantastic sitting room overlooking the green a large kitchen, 2 bedrooms and a massive deep bath. Plus, we had the use of a garage.
I lived there for 3 years. I lived there until the Soul Searchers came.
The winter of that year was hard, and when spring came we all enjoyed the longer days, the growing warmth and the spring flowers starting to poke through the ground. But that spring, the Souls Searchers started to appear.
I first saw them on my way to work – I am a senior nurse you see, and I recognised a person I passed on my walk to the hospital ward. I had my iPod on, head down, thinking about my shift and I glanced up and saw Mr Parish. But he was dead. He died on my ward the night before, cancer of the throat, very sad. Nothing we could do and he was only young – 45 I think.
But I saw him. He looked the same, very real, very unhappy and he looked at me.
“Mr Parish?” I said.
“I am” he whispered.
“You can’t be here – I saw you die…”
“I know – but I lost it. I can’t find it. Help me find it.”
“Find what?” I asked.
“My soul” he said, his eyes full of tears.
“I can’t do that – I am just a nurse” and I ran away.
They started showing up around hospitals. Obvious I suppose – most people die in hospital after all – but the problem was that it really upset everyone at the hospital. Patients, visitors and of course us that work there.
More and more dead where appearing, everywhere, all looking, searching. They were not at all discrete. They walked over to people and asked them to help them, they sat around everywhere, they took up every spare space in car park and no one knew why they were coming.
Church leaders and religious people all prayed at them and preached to them. Spiritual healers came over to them. We even had TV shows dedicated to the individual cases to track any links. Nothing, no change – still they came.
Soon, we could not work. Just as we moved to one location and set up another ward, more dead souls came and just got in the way. You can’t reason with a dead person, you can’t threaten a dead person and they have no remorse, no fear, and no motivation.
So where were their souls? I did not know – just like all the “experts” we were clueless.
Then I realised that we were actually being invaded. The problem was not exclusive to my area – all over the world Soul Searchers were manifesting and they were taking over the planet.
And then people started to panic. They moved away from anyone that showed the remotest sign of being ill. No one took any risks. Planes did not fly, cars moved so slowly and construction work that was in the least bit dangerous did not take place. The world was grinding to halt and we were all becoming terrified of each other.
The other issue was that we were starting to get ill. Our food supply was being used up - and farming could get dangerous.
Hospitals could not operate normally, so sick people did not get better and then disease started to take hold where before there was a low risk.
The Government implemented Marshall Law and because I was in an occupation that was of use to society, I was drafted to help the nation. I was also moved out from my apartment, away from my loved ones and into a “secure facility”.
Souls are still getting lost it seems – the dead guys still keep coming and we have no way of stopping them.
That is, until I saw Mr Parish again. I needed some things from my apartment and was driven back to my place by a Military Policeman. We stopped outside and then Mr Parish came up, walking across the green as I was walking to my door.
He looked at me and said “You should have helped me before – help me now.”
“How can I help?”
“The soul was with you. When I died, I was with you and you trapped my soul. Help me find it.”
I was confused. I saw no soul – no bright lights, no chill in the air, nothing.
“Where will we find your soul Mr Parish?" I asked.
“Look at yourself – when did you last pray for anyone?"
And I could not remember. I never went to church, I never thought about faith, I never prayed.
“When I died, you should have at least said something for me. Help me now to find my soul."
“But your family were there Mr Parish. They prayed.”
“Yes but all souls need to feel the love from an innocent stranger, not a cleric or religious person, to believe they have touched other lives or mattered to someone other than those they know. Otherwise, why are we here?”
So I did. I prayed for Mr Parish, right there, on the street.
Mr Parish smiled; he faded and then waved as he disappeared. Vanished.
I cried.
