Nevermet Press is currently developing a role playing game called Souljack. In the game, the players act as characters in a Faustian tale of consequence, redemption, and conspiracy. These characters, referred to as the Soulless, have made a deal with a supernatural force known as the Adversaries. The bargain has been completed and the character got what he wished for. Now cursed, they have to experience life without a “soul”, and struggle to get back what they foolishly wished away.
Large groups of Soulless have formed organizations throughout the world with the intent of helping out their brethren. The Illuminati is the largest of them. The Illuminati employs Soulless to locate new and lost Soulless, document new contracts, keep information on summoning Adversaries out of human hands, and prevent those who have gained their deepest desire from making a dramatic shift in the world.
Using the game of Blackjack as its rule system, we are looking for community interaction in the form of feedback and play-testers. If you are interested or have an opinion, please comment on this and other Souljack articles.
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Marcus lay on a metal table, hooked up to a multitude of consoles and machines. Red was at his side, with only the sleeping teenager keeping her company for the past hour until Sarge walked up and squeezed her shoulder.
“You did good out there today.” he complimented.
“Thank you, sir. I’m glad one of us did.” she replied through a yawn. Looking at her watch, Red smiled adding another hour to the over twenty-one thousand hours she has gone without sleep. She knew that most Soulless stop keeping track after a week, but counting the hours comforted her once she set continual number goals, only twenty-nine thousand left. “With Sport having stage fright and Ole’ almost burning a guy alive, I think we did well, don’t you?” she smirked.
“Yeah, I’ll say. At least we have captives, who admitted to being a part of the Scarlet Council. Judging by what they’re saying, it seems like they have been active in the area for a little while.”
“They are actually talking to us? I figured that they would have just snarled and drooled on themselves.”
“A live goat can be pretty persuasive to a hungry mouth. It was Oracle’s idea.”
“Did he figure out what exactly is on their faces?”
“Not yet. He’s been in the library all morning.”
“What are you going to do about Ole’? He’s getting worse.” Sarge sighed and nodded.
“I know. It could be that he is losing hope in ever gaining his humanity back.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want it back, thinks he doesn’t deserve it. Anger like his usually stems from regret. I mean, why would you sell your soul to control fire if not to burn something or someone.”
“You really want to be a super hero?”
“I don’t think he’s ever read a comic book.”
“Maybe it was something during his service?”
“Could be, we all did horrible things after the Adversaries gained our soul. Most Soulless never make it out of their involuntary servitude.
“You’re right.” Sarge smiled at her. Red had been an active agent for almost a year now, but she had a maturity about her that even rivaled the most veteran of Illuminati agents. Red’s stomach growled, the noise resembling a miniature version of what they had fought earlier today.
“Shall we grab some Slur? I could use some.”
She nodded, slightly embarrassed by the noise. Together they walked though the compound past the desks of suited men and women hurrying around computer desks and tactical displays. Entering the modest cafeteria, they walked up to a giant machine that churned a think tan liquid. Sarge poured sizable portions into large Styrofoam cups and handed one to her.
Red wrinkled her nose at the cup. Sarge thought it was a very endearing behavior. He realized he had been thinking about Red quite frequently of late, enjoying the time they spent together. He wondered if Red thought about him at all.
“I know it doesn’t smell bad, but something tells me that this stuff would taste horrible if we weren’t cursed. “ Sarge smiled.
“I’m pretty sure it tastes horrible now, working taste buds or not.” Red pushed a laugh through her pale lips, moving a strand of loose crimson hair behind her ear. Sarge figured she dyed her hair due to it’s brightness; Soulless’ hair tends to dull after a while. The two of them drained their cups of the nutrition slurry, and threw them into the trash. Taste was the thing that Red missed most, trying not to think of the world of desserts that she could never have again.
“Agent Red?” Red snapped out of her whipped-creamed coated thoughts and looked at the man ten years her senior. “I was wondering if you wanted to go to dinner this weekend, we both should be off duty.”
“What’s the point in that? We can’t enjoy the food.”
“Just to pretend we are normal for a night. We can hit a movie or a one of those make- your-own pottery places like the boring citizens with student loan debts and souls.” Red laughed softly.
“A date? Why Sarge…” before Red could give him an answer, a high-pitched alarm screeched through the complex. Both of the soulless snapped their attention to the nearest monitor, red letters flashing “Medical Emergency” on the screen. Red and Sarge returned to the medical lab.
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Running up to the window to the lab, Red and Sarge could see blood covering the wall nearest to Marcus’ body, cascading in a burst around his head. The body seemed to be in constant movement, shifting every few seconds. As the two soulless approached the window, they saw hundreds of greasy globs of flesh covering the teenager; tearing at his flesh with needle filled mouths, devouring him.
“My god! His face looks like it exploded!” Red gasped. About a dozen other Illuminati agents and workers filtered out from the surrounding room, covering their mouths at the carnage they saw. Sarge ordered everyone away from the area, just in case the seals on the doors failed. More agents would arrive in a moment to help.
“Red, call Ole’. We might need some of his cleansing fire.” Sarge spoke into his wrist communicator and reported what was going on, pressing the ear piece tight in his ear. Red did the same, calling for Ole’ to come in. After a moment, she pulled out her cellphone and dialed his number. A few moments she received his voice-mail.
“No answer on headset or cellphone. Where the fuck is he?” Red shouted, panic rising in her voice. Other agents and scientists littered the hall, Sarge knew the Director would be down soon.
“You fucking Hispanic asshole…” Sarge said. He was about to try calling Ole’ himself when he remembered something that made his already pale face turn paper white. “Shit! We have two cultists in the interrogation room, we’ve got personnel in with them!” Sarge took off down the hall, parting the sea of Agents. He barked for a couple of them to follow as he sprinted. “We have a condition zero situation! Unknown number of hostile pappy’s inside the compound. Set condition zero!” Sarge ordered into his communicator. As alarms wailed through the entire compound, Sarge prayed that he wouldn’t be too late.
