Sticking my neck out, please judge

Hey everyone,

One of my little secrets is I’m hoping to publish my own horror novels. The following is my own work and I’m hoping you will take the time to read and judge. I like it, but I think it needs more work.

If you read it, thanx for taking the time and I hope u enjoyed it 😉

A Conversation With Evil

“The way we live our life, is reflected in our death.” The old man began as he took a seat beside me, next to the flickering fire of my darkened lounge. The natural glow of the fire gave an appropriately eerie setting to the story that I was about to hear from the rain soaked man that I had found wandering in the country lane outside my manor home. “If we chose to lead normal lives devoid of any wrongdoing we will be granted a peaceful rest. For those of us who chose to lead lives of crime or hatred, we will in death be punished for our sins. In short we are either sent to Heaven or sentenced to Hell, as the Bible says.” He sipped from his glass of iced gin and stared into the fire deeply. “Do you believe in Heaven and Hell doctor?”
“Well…no!” I replied, an honest answer. Years of dedication to the practice of Psychology and science had rid me of such believes a long time ago, this answer seemed to amuse the old man somehow. A smile stretched across his face. In the light of the fire his face almost seemed demonic, thin eyes that seemed lifeless in the flickering light turned to face me. “I thought not. But trust me doctor, they do exist. Good things do happen to good people, as hard as that may seem to believe. It’s just such a shame that they must be patient enough to wait for that tunnel of light first. The bad on the other hand…” The old man chuckled. “Well let’s just say that the Devil is not without a sense of humour. But there is a third possibility. A punishment reserved for the most savage of people, my good doctor.” I felt a sudden chill make its way up my spine, but I did not know if it was simply a breeze of cold air from the autumn night outside that I had saved the old man from, an act of humanity that I am not particularly known for it must be said, or if the old mans words were having an affect. “And what would that be?” I enquired.
“To be cursed as a Soul Reaver.”
“And what is that, exactly?” The old man looked at me with those lifeless eyes once more. God they were so dark, devoid of anything. Black eyes, like a dolls eyes…deep, dark and oh so haunting. I knew they would stay in my memory long after the memory of the face behind them had long since faded. “An abomination of evil doctor.” He paused to stir the last of his gin with the melting ice. The way he drank was odd; it was as if he was determined to savor every drop as if it were his last. “Soul Reavers are what becomes of the spirits of men who have committed such atrocity that the Devil himself refuses to claim them. They are the unwanted, cursed to walk the nether world preying on lost souls. Sometimes, only sometimes, such a creature will walk with the living. You see doctor, they can be summoned. Called for by a member of the living who once had a connection with the condemned soul, a relative or a friend, or a relative of the victim themselves.”
“How can that be possible?” I asked. It was odd; I had never really taken an interest in the world of the supernatural, nor was I aware of how we happened upon the subject either, but I somehow found myself gripped by the old mans words. He turned back toward the fire again and seemed to clench his stomach in pain; I was just about to ask if he was ok when he continued. “A Soul Reaver that has been summoned, is able to take human form for short periods of time before returning to its demonic state. One could walk beside you and you wouldn’t notice anything peculiar in its appearance or personality. But once it has been forced to return to its true self, the demon must feed doctor, or die.”
“But isn’t it already dead?” I asked curiously. The old man shook his head, “You don’t understand. The afterlife in itself is a form of life, one that must be sustained. The Soul Reaver hunts souls, rich in energy. If this energy is not absorbed regularly, the demon will simply erase…its soul trapped in an empty void of eternal darkness.”
The rain outside was falling heavier now, the howl of the wind stronger. It was well past midnight without me realizing it and despite the time being far later than I am accustomed to staying awake, the old mans story had kept me alert. I sipped from my own glass as the old man finished his, I offered to fill his glass again but he waved his hand dismiss fully. “Why would someone summon such a demon to our world?” I asked. The old man smiled again. “We each have a reason doctor, are you telling me that if you had the ability, you would not summon forth such a creature to seek revenge on some wrongdoing?” I found myself contemplating this; I have had many wrongs done in my life. Lost many friends and loved ones to people who still walk, free of any punishment. Would I have summoned forth such a creature, if such a creature truly existed, to exact my own form of revenge? Maybe! I suddenly felt another chill surge through my body, one much stronger than before, as if something had passed through me. The old man looked toward me again, but despite him facing me, I cannot be sure that his eyes were truly focused on me. “It’s funny,” he said as he turned away and looked down at the floor, “no matter how hard you try to hide, no matter how hard you try to repent on your sins, they always find you I the end.” The old man clenched his stomach again; it was obvious that he was in more pain than before. “Are you okay?”
The gin glass dropped from his hand, what little gin remained spilt onto my carpet. As I stood to aid the man I noticed something behind him, almost invisible to my eyes. Its form was not quite human, but stood as high as a man. As I stared at the apparition the old man began to scream, then his body suddenly tumbled to the floor lifeless. It may have been the gin, but I could have sworn that his soul was being dragged from his body. As I stood unable to move through pure fear I felt the apparitions eyes suddenly focused on me, they seemed to pierce my body as a hot knife would pierce butter. I sensed a deep desire in the creature to harm me; perhaps its hunger had not been entirely satisfied. As it neared me, I am ashamed to admit I lost control of my bladder. I felt the warm trickle move rapidly down my uncontrollably shaking leg as I stared into the eyes of evil itself. It took another step closer and was standing no more than a foot from where I stood when suddenly it turned and vanished into the darkness of my lounge. Needless to say I did not get to sleep that night, nor for several nights after.
I never did mention the apparition to the investigating detective; I never did believe the coroners report that the old man had suffered a heart attack. No further questions were asked by either the police or myself, but two days later the tabloids reported the death of the “Selby Strangler”…and when I saw his photo, well let’s just say I’m sure you will forgive me if I never give refuge to strangers again!