In this world, we are born without a soul. For centuries they tried to artificially create souls and imbue them into people. Baptizing doesn’t work, prayer doesn’t work, science doesn’t work. Those with souls are said to become something more, as they are special. Which is why no one knows of their existence anymore. Sometime after the second world war, those that were special slowly disappeared from the public eye. Conspiracists still think they’re hidden somewhere inside the Pentagon, controlling the world. Yet, from what I understand, they were supposed to find themselves free after the war. Yet, with the Cold War they found themselves used again. Finding themselves in this situation, they fled. One by one escaped and were deemed the enemy of the public by both, the Soviets and the US. I don’t even understand how this whole thing works, in all honesty. From records it is said that some got a soul when they were born, some when they were teenagers and some only later in life. And that the one thing they all had in common was that they were exceptional people. Yet, we drove them all away into obscurity. We only discover them after their deaths. And only then we celebrate them.

Have you heard? I turn around to see a colleague looking at me with a big grin. He leans down to whisper. Your best friend might actually be special. I push him off and get up quickly looking for Adam. Yeah, he’s not here today, Dean. Supposedly he was almost hired as chairman and you know what that means, when one of us takes such a big leap forwards. I pick up my phone and get out to the stairs. I’m just telling you the truth, you don’t have to be such an asshole about it. I quickly call him. Straight to the voicemail. Damn. What is even happening? People usually exaggerate this stuff. So many were falsely accused of being soulful and had their lives ruined. Only to what then? Do nothing. They can’t even determine who has a soul or who doesn’t. They keep promoting less than stellar people to lead us because if he is capable, he might just have a soul and we don’t want that. These unremarkable, hateful, envious pieces of shit, I start kicking the wall in frustration. I need to go find Adam, I think to myself as I quickly make my way back to my desk to get my things. Where are you going? They’re looking for you, says the same colleague. In a panic, I pickup my things and run out.

Fuck this wicked world. Fuck these people. Fuck not putting any effort or being any good at something or you just might get lynched. These thoughts keep repeating in my head as I drive towards Adam’s place. I hope that moron was wrong and Adam is just out with a cold or something. Who was looking for me? Why would they want to have anything to do with me? I’m just a glorified secretary. Just as I arrive at Adam’s place I see police and a crowd gathered at his door. As I make my way towards the entrance to his apartment I hear people whisper that he is special and that they never knew they were so close to someone so dangerous. They bring Adam out and I can’t help but reach out. Is it true? Adam! He raises his head and turns around. Dean, no! I don’t know what’s happening. I haven’t done anything, I swear! Before I can say another word, I am hit over the head and fall down. I wake up later to a foul stench. Good, you are up. We have some questions about your friend. And, if you are good enough, you just might get to live and tell the tale of what happens with those that protect the soulful…

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