Prologue

In the quiet dim light of the tallest house at the top of the highest hill, there lay a teen nestled under their blanket. The teen shivered beneath his plain blue comforter, his skin flush with what one might expect was a fever. His joints ached from his near constant shaking. Every bit of his flesh, his face, his hands and his feet, itched so bad that they burned.

OUT! He needed it OUT! This thing, this weight that sat heavy in his chest. Soon, it all became too much for him to handle and he flung himself onto the threadbare carpet that covered the wooden floor. Groaning in agony, the teen dragged himself from the ground and staggered toward the door. His hurried pace slowed when he passed by his faded old red wagon, worn with the slow passage of time. Upon it sat a tarnished and bent birdcage from a pet long since passed.

He turned to face the cage, DETERMINATION filled him suddenly and at once, he knew what to do.

"You wish to be free from me?" asked a voice so soft that he could not tell if it was male or female. It was the same voice that had been whispering to him all day. He moaned as his clutched at his chest with one hand and yanked at his his dark brown hair, pulling at it hard enough to loose a few of the strands. He growled in frustration.

"Do as you will," it crooned. "Know that it will be harder for me to help you once it is done." Well that was just fine, wasn't? He thought. He'd never asked for its help in the first place. He'd been doing just fine before it came along.

It tutted at him in much the same fashion as he mother did when he refused to get out of bed on time. He fell to his knees, the hold on his chest tightening.

"Take me out if you wish it, Child," the voice chided. "But I have a feeling that you will need my guidance again for what is to come."

'Shut up,' he snarled and without warning, clenched his hand and plunged his nails through his shirt and into his flesh. He gasped. The blind pain was more than anything he had ever experience in his life. They pressed harder and harder and deeper and deeper, the agony so great that no sound could leave his lungs as he opened his mouth to scream.

Finally, just when he could see the blackness in the corners of his eyes, he heard a rip and a sickening "squelch" and felt something pulsing in his bloody fingers. Breathing heavily, he held it out in front of him, wondering at the object that was glowing brightly.

It was a small red colored heart. It reminded him of one of those cheesy cartoon hearts or… his eyes widened as the ghostly voice flooded the room.

"Your soul." it said. The tiny appendage pulsed brighter with every word. "The culmination of your entire being."

"No, no, no," they breathed. Panicking, he tossed the heart as hard as he could away from him. Out of pure luck, or maybe some divine force, the soul slammed into the birdcage, the force tipped the cage over, and it crashed into the bottom of the wagon.

The soul remained silent as Kris slumped over onto his hands and knees. His entire body shuddered with wracking sobs.

He was sure that his mother could hear him as he tried his best to muffle the sound with the fibers of the carpet.

Eventually, the teen's body gave into the sheer exhaustion he was feeling. He slept, curled into a ball on the floor, with the dim light of a lost soul, bathing the room with an eerie glow.