Volume 3: Souled Out

Souled Out
Scott Thurlow

I left for New Shroudsburg because of the calling, (or, the culling), whichever way you want to cut it.  There was plenty, of that, (too.)  History having been, (and will forever), be written by the victors, (or, survivors), so again, it’s your call.  In any case, I left because, I was convinced, there was, something, to be gained there.  Judging, (at the time), from the rumors, that flowed off of it, (like, the eventual, blood), there was enough of everything, that anyone (like myself), who was looking for anything to make, (or take), for themselves, could find.  (So, there I went.)

New Shrouds, for short, was absolutely crawling, with opportunity, (it turned out.)  Pay careful attention, to my choice of, words, there.  Since, I was someone who fancied myself as walking, (fully upright), it seemed, quite ripe.  The city was a burned out shell; this place was a bona fide, (certified), cesspool.  If eyes, (truly), are windows, to the soul, then here- both of yours, had best be black, (as starless nights.)  Thusly-- exactly where I wanted, (to go.)

The situation, had been shaping up, (for a few.)  Tensions were escalating, (but, then, wasn't that the default emotion, for the times?)  You’d think, (at least.)  Anyway, all kinds of factions, were converging within, (and upon), the town: armed prophets, bands of disciples, thugs, visionaries, missionaries.  All seemed to name, (and title themselves), whichever moniker seemed to, best, advance their cause, (and, call followers to it.)  Conversely, they branded the opposing camp, whatever convenient term was equivalent, in their language, for, “enemy.”  I, could respect, the intent.  My personal title, could be best described, as such: Preacher, Prophet, Profiteer, (Triumvirate.)  My skills, encompassed: Having no soul to sell, no innocence to corrupt, no conscience to question.  But, (lacking all these), I could nevertheless still recognize, when those who had them, could be convinced, to part with them, (as I instead had plenty of planned frauds, and all kinds of angles.)  If you wanted to believe it, I could tell you, sell you, it.  Choose your delusion.  Belief, (At bargain prices!)  Faith, (Wholesale!)  Discount on desperation, (Today only!)  Think of it as marketing, (or, Sales.)  Advertising.  It goes, a long way.  Almost, (to the end.)

The city was good times, (that is, profitable, the only way I know, how to measure these-- types, of things), for a while.  Making market deals, (and scrounging up whatever else, of use, was lying around), was a cute little timekiller.  And, so was that Kelly girl, (her, I could do with, right now.)  The bar was nice, too.  But, it all became boring, (soon enough.)  Eventually, that, (contemptible), council they had going, would've become too much of a totalitarianism, (to suit my purposes.)  That, kind of politics, was not for me, (my friends.)  Men have always attempted, to impose their various--wills, on others, but, the only one that truly matters in the end, is the will, (to live.)  If you have that, value it, (above all else), then maybe, you had a chance for survival, period.  So it was, always, (and will forever), be.  Further, since I was, in fact, someone who fancied myself as walking upright, I figured, I did (have that, will.)  More so, than most of the “leftovers,” as I called the remaining (living.)  The dead, I had no name for.  They had their scattered bogeyman, (or, monster, names), but really, (what it came down to), they were just new obstacles.  The facts of life, if you like, that had to be--dealt with, as anything else.  Think of it as going shopping, (with knives.)

Previously, it was still possible to, approach, close enough to New Shrouds, to slip in, amidst the unrest.  I tried to travel light, and, on an empty stomach, (when possible.)  Lean wolves, fight fiercest.  Money, and bartering, were all well and good, but, as I said, the only currency left, (that could be of any real use, or value), was the power--of persuasion.  If, you could save yourself, by convincing, a stranger, to die (instead of you), or murder, someone else (for you), you might as well, be a god.  Obviously, this was the time for new gods, because, all the other old ones, were now long gone, (and forgotten), or dead, (and impotent.)  Time, for a new hierarchy, (of pantheons.)  To, impel them, to worship, what they so clearly, wished to.  People practically sold themselves, in the beginning.  The price, of a soul truly, is-- about thirty coins, of gold, (plus tax.)  To preach a man a pitch, is less tiresome, than teaching him how to fish.  It must have been what Jesus (or, perhaps, L. Ron Hubbard), would've felt.  I hope, that, I'm being as clear, as clear, (can be.)  Can you, in fact, guess, (my name?)  To, convince, others that you, yourself, were, the solution, (to all their problems.)  This, my friends, is incomparable to any weapon, that can be wielded, (physically, or, otherwise.)  In the land of the lost, the consolidated man, (is King.)  And I thought myself nothing, (if not consolidated.)  Survival, is salvation, (the Message, was as simple, as that.)  You can’t be betrayed, if you never fully trust, anyone, (I always thought.)  It’s all about the basis of belief, my friends.  Well, look no further, (Come,) (all ye, faithful), for here, lied, answers.  Martyrs never profit, (in the end.)  The trick, was to make them all think that they had the requisite wherewithal, (believe.)  That, when push came to shove, they’d definitely roll over, and die, (and, moreover--want to.)

But, (as you might, or might not, already know), someone needed to be set up, for the actual--act.  A, fall guy.  Plus, it had to be packaged, (correctly.)  You, had to make them, think, they deserved it, (or, were more-- Worthy.)  An issue, of advertising, again, in a way, (like most everything else.)  The space race, of prediction.  The passion, that was the fashion, of the day.  Guarantee your package was better (or, at least, sounded more intrinsically appealing), than the competition’s.  The problem, became, was that everyone else, started realizing this fact, too, (or was going to, soon.)  It wasn't too, difficult, to figure out, really.  It came down to, the familiar matters of: how fast could you preach, (or, reach), potential converts, before the opposition got there, first.  Location, is everything.  Tell them nothing, (or, everything, anything.)  Whatever, they needed to hear.  Just, make sure you were, heard, (and obeyed.)  But, when one man finds the answer, another, loses the question, (completely.)  Think, of it as--a stock crash, of sorts, (of Souls.)

And thus: the time, has come.  I wait here for the price, (that every sage, and soothsayer), must pay when they fail, (to deliver.)  I miscalculated, in the game, (of survival), and the stakes of mistakes, (as I have stated), are rather high.  It, remained though, a rather, meticulously, (and deliciously), played round.  I profited much indeed, made it rain prophecies, (in Fact.)  But after all, in the end, I chose, (sold), the wrong delusion(s), (and thus, am Doomed.)  I was, it turned out, no great prophet, (at all.)  It’s what happens, when you don’t, live up to your, standards.  Your reign, (of Greatness), indeed, flickers (out.)  You’re screwed (or, outdated.)  All preached out, (but not, Afraid.)

I must admit, (however), that I find it a more tasteful-- Fate, than that poor fool, who was exiled, (off to Freemantua.)  Better, to be cast down, by those who once accepted you, (Fully), than cast out, by them, (Entirely.)  So, very soon I’ll be dead, (and, will have no name, either.)  Here, you might be inclined to ask: “how?”  Seeing, as everyone ends up dead, (or, worse), though, it’s all only ever a matter, of how, (therefore, it’s actually irrelevant.)  Instead, I will answer the only clear question, that, (after hearing all this), you should have.  Was, it worth it?  The only thing I can tell you, (for sure), is that, it all depends on your conviction(s) in what happens, next, to those in my-- position.  Perhaps, you have one, (Final), question: Do, I regret it?  I can only, respond, (Would You?)