Soul Bound 01

1

Kismet Productions Presents...2

An Eternal Angels Project...3

Sponsored by Zephyr, Destined Magic, Mystik Eternity and Chaos's Love...4

Soul Bound5

Written By: Harrison Chu6

Book 1: The Story Untold7

"Media vita in morte sumus8

Quem quarimus adjutorem nisi te, Domine?9

Qui pro peccatis nostris juste irasceris 10

Sancte Deus, sancte fortis11

Sancte misericors Salvator12

Amara morti ne tradas nos 13

In te speraverunt patres nostri14

Speraverunt et liberasti eos 15

Sancte Deus, sancte fortis16

Sancte misericors Salvator17

Amara morti ne tradas nos 18

Ad te clamaverunt patres nostri19

Clamaverunt et non sunt confusi 20

Gloria Patri, et Filio21

et Spiritui Sancto..."22

-Media Vita , Performed by the Celtic Requiem23

Chapter 1: Yearning24

Stepping out of the bathroom, Rannison toweled off his hair as he made his way into his room clad in a pair of black boxer shorts.  A quick left brought him there and he nudged the door open with his foot, still frisking the damp towel across his head repeatedly.  He stopped as he stepped into his room, and reached out to open his wardrobe to the left.25

The clothes inside were stacked very neatly in organized piles.  He grabbed a black muscle tee from the middle shelf, a pair of black jeans and socks from below, and then a belt from hanging from a hanger above.  Throwing these onto the bed behind him, he began to dress while looking into the mirror next to the desk.26

He'd managed to get into his pants before he realized that he was badly in need of a good shave.  Studying the mirror closer yet, he became fascinated with the reflection before him.  It had been quite a while since the last time he really looked at his reflection, and he suddenly found that he almost couldn't recognize the man in front of him.27

He had black hair, with a barely perceivable dark-green tint, tied back into a pony tail, with bangs still hanging in front across his eyes.  Water beaded down an expressionless face.  His eyes were a deep brown, almost black, like anthracite or obsidian.  His nose wasn't too big or small, nor his chin too wide or pointed.  Besides his hair, he looked just like any other eighteen-year-old Asian kid, living on his own.  But his eyes were devoid of expression.  He noticed this and tried to smile, then shivered and looked away when he saw that the combination gave him resemblance to a homicidal freak.28

He wasn't very tall, only about 5'6" or so, and he wasn't overweight either.  Weighing at around a hundred and forty pounds, he definitely had more muscle than fat, but there was nothing attractive enough to catch anyone's eyes.  There was a short but wide scar running from his shoulder in towards his shoulder blade, but he couldn't see it without turning his back to the mirror.29

And what was he doing alone in such an empty apartment by himself?  He didn't really even know himself for sure.30

~  ~  ------------------------------  ~  ~31

He had moved out, away from his father, as soon as he had turned eighteen and began to go to college.  His father was a business man, a head honcho at that, and his materialistic views and expectance of Rannison to become a man of his image was what finally drove Rannison away from that house.  At first he crashed in with a friend, and he had chipped in for his expenses.  He didn't tell his father where he was.32

The two of them worked part-time and managed a small apartment, and they both finished their education.  Rannison earned a degree in computer engineering, though not a particular field of his interest.  But on the day of his graduation, he returned to his apartment to find the surprise of his life.33

His roommate was out at a graduation party with his own family, and he had the apartment to himself.  He let himself in and heard a soft scratching noise.  Looking down, he saw that a manilla envelope had been slipped under the door.34

He bent down and picked the package up, and as he let himself in, unconsciously locking the door behind him, he saw that the front and back were blank.  No address, no name.  He contemplated whether or not he should open it, or if it was even for him.  He decided he couldn't go wrong.35

He didn't bother with metal clasp and ripped the edge clean off.  Two things fell out, and there was something else in the envelope.  He picked the items he dropped back up and saw that it was a picture and a letter.36

The picture was of him, on a stage receiving his diploma.  The letter was from his father.37

"You still never smile for your pictures, eh?  Well.  I just wanted to let you know that I'm retiring.  Moving back to Szechuan.  Look in the envelope, and you'll find a surprise just for you.  Just a little sampler of what I tripped over last year.  Give me a call sometime, Anny will forward it.  Same number still.  Goodbye, son."38

No names, no date, no "love dad" or signature.39

He looked into the envelope and pulled out a large leather bag.  It was a big satchel.  It felt light, so he assumed it was empty.40

Confused, Rannison loosened the draw string and upended it, expecting nothing come out, but he was shocked when he did see something fall out.  Well, it was what fell out that shocked him.41

It was a glittering stone, the size of the last joint of his thumb.  It was a goddamned diamond, and a huge one at that.42

~  ~  ------------------------------  ~  ~43

Snapping out of his reverie, he turned away from the mirror and quickly finished dressing.  He had a ride to make.44

Stepping out the door of his apartment, he locked it behind him and began to walk briskly down the short hallway.  The floor was stone, reverberating the clicking of his shoes contacting the floor.  He turned right, and after another couple of steps, he reached the elevator.45

He reached his hand out to press the faded button going down.  A hand closed over his.46

He jerked his hand back like he'd just touched a live wire.  Whipping around, he didn't see anyone.  Neither did he expect to see anyone, because he had recognized that hand the instant it had hovered into view, and he knew it was only his frail mind that had conjured up the image.  It was Her hand.  And she was dead.47

Ding.48

The gleaming metal doors slid open smoothly, but he stood where he was, hoping with a blind hope that perhaps it hadn't just been his imagination.  Perhaps she was there with him, watching him, trying to reach him.  But there was nothing.49

Just as the doors had begun to close again, he slammed his arm into the bar and they obediently slid back again.  He stepped into the box, floored with hardwood and surrounded with panels of glass mirrors.  Hesitantly, Rannison reached his hand out to the L button.  He made contact.50

Nothing happened.51

He let go, not sure if he was disappointed or relieved.52

The rest of the way was uneventful, but it didn't change the fact that he longed for her touch, longed to see her lovely face again.  He missed her.  And he would do anything to see her again...except he still had one responsibility, one thing that kept him from following her path and finding her.  He still had a girl in his life to look after and protect.53