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Book online Ā«Soul Dust - J. A., N. S. (most life changing books TXT) šŸ“—Ā». Author J. A., N. S.



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Prologue

Humans are the mightiest beings on earth. Thatā€™s all you know.

They consist of a body, mind and soul. Thatā€™s what you think.

There are more powerful beings, craving for souls. Thatā€™s what you didnā€™t know.

No one can take your body from you, or your mind. But your soul doesnā€™t actually belong to you. Without knowing it, youā€™re sharing it with us. You are keeping us alive with it.

Without you, there would be no ā€˜usā€™.

Now that you know about us, you have to be careful. A hunter might be coming after you right now. Maybe he is watching you right now.

Donā€™t worry, it wonā€™t hurt.

 

Chapter 1

ā€œOne of us may not tell outsiders about us at any time. Violators must be punished. Grade 4.ā€

 

Even though it was only noon, big dark clouds on the sky darkened the streets. I was listening to loud rock music on my iPhone while I watched fat raindrops splash onto the windscreen. I felt uncomfortable in my black Armani suit, like I couldnā€™t breathe properly. A short glance at my dad who was sitting next to me in the driverā€™s seat was enough to see that he was feeling the opposite ā€“ he looked confident. He also had been smiling for the last few hours, telling me that today was a special day and how proud he was of me.

I had remained silent throughout the whole journey. Suddenly dad poked me in the shoulder, so I turned my music off and.

ā€œArenā€™t you looking forward to it?ā€, he asked without stopping to watch the streets.

ā€œI amā€, I replied honestly, ā€œBut Iā€™m just not sure what to expect.ā€

ā€œOhā€, he nodded, ā€œSo youā€™re nervousā€¦ā€

I smiled. ā€œWellā€¦ Maybe a little bit.ā€

For a minute, dad didnā€™t say anything. I was about to turn the music back on, when he suggested something incredible.

ā€œOnce weā€™re done with thisā€, he started, ā€œIā€™ll probably be too excited to drive, soā€¦ Would you like to do me the honour?ā€

I was astonished for a few seconds. This was a Lamborghini Murcielago, My dadā€™s absolute favourite car. He wouldnā€™t even let our driver use it. It usually just stayed in the garage, but as today was a special occasion, dad had said that it was ā€˜only just good enoughā€™.

ā€œYeah, Iā€™d love to!ā€, I said quickly, ā€œThanks.ā€

I only just got my driving licence, but dad didnā€™t seem to care or consider that.

ā€œNo problem. Once this is over, you might need your own one anyway.ā€

I wasnā€™t sure whether he was joking or serious. I was such a lucky guy anyway.

ā€œWeā€™re hereā€, dad said seriously.

He parked directly in front of the main entrance. As soon as we got out, a valet came running towards us with obvious amazement in his eyes and a big smile on his lips.

ā€œMay I park your car, sir?ā€, he asked after taking a deep breath.

My dad tossed a brief smile at him. ā€œSure. One scratcher or one bump, and Iā€™ll kill you. Donā€™t even breathe inside the car.ā€

The valetā€™s smile was suddenly wiped away. ā€œIā€¦ā€

We just moved on and dad chuckled quietly.

In front of us there was a huge skyscraper, with at least 50 storeys. Its windows were tinted dark so you couldnā€™t see inside. I had been here a few times before, but never actually been to the conference room or the higher storeys. Something was different today: Next to the front doors there were two security agents with black sunglasses. It was raining.

ā€œThe community seems to like their prestigeā€, I said amusedly.

The people who came inside this building didnā€™t really need any protection. They knew many ways how to defend themselves.

When the security agents spotted my dad, they both straightened their posture. I could see a mix between respect and fear. Even though they werenā€™t community members, they seemed to know who they were dealing with.

ā€œHello, sirā€, said one of them and even held us the door open.

ā€œDonā€™t you ever say your dad doesnā€™t have street credā€, he whispered entertained once we were inside.

I just rolled my eyes and kept following him. The entrance hall of the building was decorated with expensive paintings and glistening chandeliers. It looked so expensive and exaggerated, it was almost tacky.

We met several community members and they all came towards my dad and me with respect to greet us and congratulate. Some of the members were ranked really high and still seemed to be a bit scared.

ā€œDad?ā€, I asked, when we were alone again, ā€œDo you already know which rank Iā€™m going to be?ā€

He looked at me and smiled. ā€œYes. But it would ruin the surprise if I told you now.ā€

We arrived at a white, double-winged door. All of people were entering the room behind it which was already pretty full. Everyone was wearing black, which made it seem like a funeral, more than a celebratory occasion.

ā€œDadā€¦ā€, I started, ā€œI donā€™t really want to speak in front of all those people.ā€

He put a hand onto my shoulder. ā€œI know you can do it. Now go inside, Iā€™ll see you later, on the stage.ā€

With these words he left me standing.

I entered the room. It was enormous, with round walls, uncountable rows of seats and balconies in the upper floors for a better view. The most eye-catching thing in the room was the ten meter stage on the other side though. It seemed more like an opera house than a conference hall. I started to scan the room for people I knew, but I couldnā€™t see anyone. Instead, many people I didnā€™t even know approached me with questions.

ā€œAre you Mr Kensingtonā€™s son?ā€, I was asked for the fourth time by a young woman with expensive looking jewellery.

ā€œYesā€, I answered briefly.

When the woman was probably about to fire more questions at me, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

ā€œDid I just hear Kensington?ā€, asked the voice.

I turned around and saw my three best friends, Alex, Matt and Riley. Alex had styled his blonde hair with too much hair gel, but for some reason it still looked good on him. They were all wearing black suits and shirts, apart from Riley, who was wearing a tank top in a neon blue colour.

ā€œWeā€™ve been looking for you for the last twenty minutesā€, said Matt.

ā€œIā€™m sorryā€¦ But whatā€™s with Riley? Why arenā€™t you wearing a shirt, dude?ā€, I laughed.

ā€œI hate suitsā€¦ especially with shirts, it looks ridiculousā€, he answered and shrugged.

ā€œHeā€™s such an attention whoreā€, said Alex and plucked on Rileyā€™s shirt.

Suddenly the lights on the stage went on.

ā€œWe should really get to our seats nowā€, said Matt.

We had seats in the front row, as we would have to get up and come onto the stage later.

We slowly made our way through the crowd to the front rows. I could see some of the boys and girls I had spent the last few years with already sitting in their seats.

As soon as we sat down, the lights in the room were dimmed, only the stage lights were still bright. Immediately, silence came over the room.

ā€œIā€™m so excitedā€, said Alex next to me quietly, ā€œI want to get more awesome.ā€

Seconds later, my dad came onto the stage. Everyone clapped and curiously watched him go to the marble podium in the centre of the stage. It was funny how his charismatic smile was enough to influence the behaviour of every person in the room.

ā€œLadies and gentlemenā€, he began when it was quiet again, ā€œThanks for coming by. Today we want to celebrate the initiation of 23 new members to the community. Iā€™m proud to say that my own son, Joshua, is one of them.ā€

Almost everyone in the front rows turned their head to me and examined me jealously. It was only a little bit awkwardā€¦

ā€œThis only happens every 20 years and is therefore a moment to remember. Before we continue, Iā€™d like to ask each new member to come to me onto the stage and answer me two questionsā€¦ There are lots of middle names on this by the wayā€¦ā€, he said and held a sheet up in the air, ā€œSo letā€™s start alphabetically with Riley Jonathan Ashley Adams.ā€

Riley got up with an expressionless face. There were a few chuckles when he came onto the stage ā€“ probably about his long name ā€“ and stood straight in front of my dad.

ā€œTell me, Rileyā€¦ā€, my dad started, ā€œIs your that your natural hair colour?ā€

Riley just grinned back at him. His hair was red, and he was proud of it.

ā€œIā€™m just kidding, said dad, ā€œMy question is: How would you estimate your behaviour over the last four years?ā€

ā€œVery good, sir... Apart from when I had an argument with someone and hit themā€¦ā€, said Riley and looked to us.

I looked at Alex. ā€œYou provoked him that day, didnā€™t youā€¦ā€, I whispered.

ā€œIt was all for a good purposeā€, he replied amusedly.

My dad lifted up a pile of paperwork from the podium and smiled. ā€œAt least youā€™re honestā€, he said to Riley, ā€œI didnā€™t feel like reading all this out anyway. My second question: Which rank would you consider yourself?ā€

ā€œTwelveā€, Riley answered straight away.

ā€œI like your modestyā€, said dad, ā€œThe council decided to give you rank 14.ā€

Riley smiled. ā€œThanks, man.ā€

ā€œYou may go now, manā€, said dad and smiled back at him.

After Riley, three other new members were called to my dad. They were less relaxed than Riley, because they had never met him before and had as much respect for him as the older community members. Then it was Matts ā€“ or should I say Matthew George Wallace Hawkins? ā€“ turn. These rich people really loved long names.

ā€œMatthewā€¦ How was your weekend?ā€, asked my dad.

ā€œOhā€, started Matt, ā€œVery good, thanks. I had fries and a burger for breakfast.ā€

ā€œLucky you! Which rank would you consider yourself?ā€

ā€œTwelveā€, he answered, like Riley, but it sounded more like a question.

ā€œRank 14ā€, said dad and sent him back.

Matt came down the stairs with a happy grin.

It took a while until we had reached the letter K, so many fancy names were read out and so many scared people had to come up to the stage.

ā€œOhā€¦ā€, my dad grinned, ā€œJoshua Edward Henry Kensington.

I got up, readjusted my blazer and went to my dad. The spotlights were really bright so I couldnā€™t see the people watching me ā€“ which was a good thing.

ā€œJoshua, do you who I am?ā€, he asked me with a grin.

ā€œYouā€™re the rank 20, the decision maker here, sirā€, I said, even though he had probably expected me to say ā€˜youā€™re my dadā€™ to show how proud he was.

ā€œAnd your dadā€, he added smiling, ā€œWhich rank would you consider yourself?ā€

ā€œIā€™ll be happy with whichever rank you give me, dadā€, I replied impatiently.

ā€œWell, sounds like low expectationsā€¦ā€, said dad, ā€œFor now youā€™re a rank 17.ā€

I left the stage as fast as I could. I just didnā€™t like the attention. Alex got up when my dad said ā€œAlexander James Sterling Kingsleyā€ straight after.

ā€œSterlingā€, I whispered and low-fived him when we met in the middle.

Alex stopped in front of my dad with his hands in his pockets. ā€œHow are you doing?ā€, he grinned.

Dad laughed. ā€œIā€™m asking the questions here. So, what do you

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