Soulless and Sentient - Prologue

They shamble through life, the not-quite-walking dead. Their eyes glazed over and unfocused without that certain vital spark behind them. Grunting and mumbling out one-word answers through strained tones they shuffle about as though on rails, looking for something.

While many move about this way, life getting them down or simply due to a rough night's sleep, there are some with some greater issue. These scant few can only grow in number, though their affliction is normally simply spread.

The lack of one's soul.

Through some vile magicks, often-times done through no small amount of sacrifice, those dedicated practitioners and those simply foolish enough to try could slip free from their mortal shells. Creeping and slithering out these spirits would often race towards their target, the body and life they had dreamed of.

But what happened to their old body? What would come of their now soulless form?

Simply put, it would try to continue on. Now lacking the vital animating spark within the body would simply try to follow the routines that had been ingrained into it over the years. From muddling through school to coasting at work, these shells of their former selves soon fall into heavily repeated habits.

Those around, if they paid attention, might notice something amiss as even the most vibrant and outgoing person would soon be reduced to just existing.

However, as time carries on, the shells would slowly come into their own. While still unable to really deviate from its well-worn path, some semblance of intelligence would slowly begin to fester within. Slight variety would creep into their meals, a subtle change in outfits here and there to juxtapose the wearing of the same clothes day in and day out, they might even be able to crack a small smile or croak out more than a simple yes or no grunt.

Some sense of self would blossom, one that was separate yet certainly built from their former soul. With each passing day the new intelligence would develop further and further, deviating from the soul that had controlled it as it learned what it liked and found its own interests.

While many stuck close to their former life, reinforcing their former soul's hobbies and desires, others would soon find a longing and joy in trying the new and deliciously different. However, despite their best efforts, there was still something missing... though not irrecoverably so.

From the moment their former soul left the shells could sense what they lacked in others. Auras, painting everyone around them in bright and vibrant hues beyond imagining advertised and expressed the essence within. Shimmering, shifting, and seductive these neon lights at first would simply irritate the fledging consciousness of the empty body as they acted to remind them what they had lost.

However, as the walking shell grows more and more this irritation soon turns to jealousy and hunger.

Some, once the hunger sets in, will simply leap at the chance to fill the void inside. A calling deep inside tells them what needs to be done, sealing the theft with a simple yet deep kiss to draw the target of their desire from inside of its original body.

Be it through cornering their prey carefully, or with but a simple fleeting kiss, these desperate few soon find themselves full once more.

For others, once they're budding intellect reaches a tipping point, it's a matter of finding the right fit. Be it searching for a soul to match their body nicely, perhaps one to enhance what their former soul lacked or to bolster some new interest of the new sentience, or even just someone they think they'd get along with these cunning husks are all but too willing to wait for the right person to cross their path.

Once all is said and done the cycle simply continues anew, with the newly empty body shuffling off on its own journey of self-discovery while its former soul takes permanent root inside its new host. Despite things having been righted in theory, with a new spark burning inside the once-empty shell, things don't return to normal.

While some rare few bodies calm down, eager to return to being a simple tool for the animating force inside them, most refuse to give up their newfound individuality. While lacking much in the way of a voice many communicate to the new mind residing inside them either through body language or writing, wrestling control away whenever they need to reconfirm that their existence was now a permanent partnership.

Had I been told about all this I never would have believed it, the idea that some of those shambling people with unfocused sunken eyes and vacant expressions were simply searching for their prey.

However, seeing was believing. My world turning upside down when I came face to face, lips to lips, with one of these poor creatures as I...