Souls

No Face

The inside of a lab, chemicals and beakers lining the tables.

“Ninety-nine percent of the human body is comprised of six elements: oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, calcium, and phosphorus. When placed in a row like that, it seems almost elementary to create a human body. Though the placement of these components is something only the most skilled alchemist would know, they are all readily available to the world.”

No Face walks through it, his hands picking up the glass bottles and dropping them to the ground.

“But if the human form is so easy to create, what is it that makes it truly special? The answer is quite simple. What the previous statement forgets to account for is the soul.”

He stops, turning to a nearby table, the body of a scientist laying upon it.

“A body’s spirit holds all of its feelings, thoughts, and consciousness. Without it, they are no more than an empty husk, a lifeless corpse sitting upon the ground devoid of its very being. A soul is something that earthly chemicals could never hope to recreate, an entity far beyond the comprehension of human thinking.”

He looms over it, the corpse missing its eyes and mouth.

“Like a toy without batteries, a body missing its soul is simply an object like any other, one missing any and all purpose. This begs the question: If the soul is such an important ingredient to the human form, is it but another small piece of the puzzle in the end?”

He shakes his head.

“Doubt, you are a creature of logic and forethought, every move meticulously planned out beforehand, each decision made in both certainty and rationality. But as I stalk you, watching you contemplate your plans and your future, I begin to suspend my belief in your ability to make decisions.”

He nudges the body, moving its limbs slowly.

“You know just as well as I do, human beings are simply an alchemic formula with sentience. While some are more useful than others, no one human is truly that much different than the next one. Each human who’s eyes I tear from their skull will stain my hands with the exact same compounds of H2O and proteins. Each tongue held in my hand is no more than lipids and DNA strung in just the right order to create it.”

The eyes are mush, but the tongue is visible on the table next to the scientist.

“Yet despite the ghastly sights of these creatures, you only hold one close enough to you that you chase after it and wish to protect it. You refuse to allow the formula known as Syndi come to any harm.”

He cranes his head to the side, an equation on the wall.

“I pondered just why she was so important to you, but it wasn’t until I stepped back and realized. You didn’t covet her body, you coveted the conscious that controlled it.”

He looks the other way.

“She is the entire reason you have any control at all.”

The shattered chemicals, all of them pooling together.

“Without Syndi to keep you sane, without her soul to keep you in line, you would go on a rampage, destroying every living being in your path with total disregard for the spirits that inhabit their earthly form. You would lose any filter on who you attack, killing with ill repute and sucking their bodies dry of the spirit waiting within.”

He looks down at the body before shaking his head once more.

“When Syndi is gone, her body left to decompose into their base elements, you will be left with no morals left to abide by.”

He walks away.

“You will be like me.”

Darkness.