Stolen Souls

Alone, he sat in the dimly lit corner of his cave. Around him were the various souls he’d captured. He counted them, writing the number on a damp piece of paper. The number 89,173 stared back at him. He grinned evilly at his accomplishment.

The souls sat, chattering amongst each other, the quiet echo irritating their captor. It was the only retaliation they had, trapped inside their jars; some upside down, some right side up, and some only half there. They stared at each other’s faces that each had come to know, only through the soft flicker of the candle light.