The Soul Snatcher

Carrie Stone lived peacefully with incandescent contentment in the safe walls of her home.

On the pages that she flooded with a sea of words, Carrie lived under her pen name, Dani Viola. Dani had the tenacity of a confident and brave pirate, never fearing the unknown but embracing it with her charming smile and ungodly high-sex appeal.

Carrie was a famous author

Well, Carrie was the author, and Dani was the famous one.

That's the beauty of being a faceless author. She made a good living (good was an understatement) and never had to leave her house.

Of course she did leave here and there, because apparently "she needed more sun," according to her doctor, but most of her days she wandered her large and impressive home by herself in the gated community known as Citrus Grove.

Citrus Grove was the most expensive community in her whole county. Her house, among others, was a million-dollar home, and she didn't even get Carrie started on the ridiculous HOA fee.

*HOA stands for the Homeowners Association and is an amount of money that must be paid monthly by owners of certain residential properties. (The money the HOA receives is aimed at being put back into the community.)*

Fortunately, she was able to live this life doing what she loved to do: write. The community had perfect streets, scenic views, and friendly residents. Of course, Carrie, being the reclusive author she was, never really interacted with them. However, from the friendly waves from afar, silent nods across the yard, and no one coming to infringe upon her serene privacy,

She deduced they were good people.

Carrie felt she was truly happy with the life she had. The life she fought hard to earn

Yeah, it was modest. She lived alone with her cat and her words. Her large and beautiful million-dollar home was about the only super expensive thing she bought for herself.

She drove a 2008 Volvo with the passenger door handle broken, for god's sake.

She just didn't need expensive things to feel joy; she felt joy when she wrote. When Carrie got lost in the faraway worlds her mind created-worlds vastly different from the one she lived in-that's when she was happiest.

Her life was steady and predictable. That's how she wanted to keep it.

Today started like any other day; spring had approached with fervour, melting away the chilling affects of the winter.

Carrie was doing what she normally does on a beautiful sunny day.

Telling herself, "Wow, it's such a beautiful day, I should go outside," but never actually going outside.

She did, however, have intentions of enjoying the gorgeous day, but when she walked into her favourite room in her home, the library,

She forgot to leave.

Carrie walked into a glowing room looking for her journal, which she had discarded somewhere, when the book she was reading the night before caught her eye.

And suddenly the cliffhanger of the last chapter she stopped on came flooding back to her in new-found vigour.

"One more chapter, just to find out if they made it out of the temple. Then I'll be an adult and do my chores, work, and whatever else productive adults do." She rationalised silently to herself as she grabbed the book.

She settled herself on the cozy little reading nook at the bottom of a huge window that reached just shy of the ceiling.

One chapter turned into thirty.

Carrie was so lost in the tempting and adventurous words that she didn't even notice the sun go down completely.

It wasn't until she heard the hollering of people and blaring music from the house next to her that she was jolted from her book.

Carrie loved her house for many reasons.

One being, she only had one neighbour around her. Her home was located at the very end of a dead-end street in the very back of the community.

There were only five houses on one side of the street, three of which were vacant because no one wanted their house so far away from the amenities. Only an old couple lived in the house at the very beginning of the street, three houses away from her.

The other three between them were vacant.

Or so she thought they were.

Why was music blasting from the house next to her? The house that was supposed to be vacant

She quickly shoved a bookmark in her book and ran out of her library to the foyer. moved the curtains aside and pressed her face against the window, straining to see what was going on.

Did someone break into the house to throw a party?...This is a highly secured gated community. No one gets in without a pass or visitor pass. She thought as more people dressed in sparkly outfits, or barely any outfit at all, started to walk in.

Carrie's eyebrows knitted together as she bit her nails frantically, looking out the window, wishing she could blink and make all these people disappear.

A man who started stumbling towards her house broke her focus. She noticed him holding his hand over his mouth, and his face twisted uncomfortably.

He was going to hurl. He was going to hurl, and he was heading right towards her petunia bushes.

Panic shot into Carrie's core, and she ran to her door frantically.

She ran out on her porch, waving her arms. "No, no, no! Please, not my-"

He doubled over, holding his stomach, and puked with the force of God behind his vomit into her bushes.

"...petunia's..." Carrie's face twisted in disgust and sadness, and she listened to her poor flowers being desecrated.

"I'm so sorry, flower babies." She whimpered and wiped away a fake tear.

Whoever was throwing this party just fucked with her plant children. Enough was enough.

She sourly ran inside and grabbed her beat-up cardigan. She wrapped it around her body, trying to hide her lack of a bra, and slipped on her dirty white converse.

Carrie let out an annoyed sigh when she heard the blaring, obnoxious music as she got closer to the house. She took a moment to compose herself before reaching the front door and giving it a polite knock. Unfortunately, there was no response from inside.

Carrie wasn't used to going to parties, so she wasn't sure how to get inside. It felt impolite to just barge into a stranger's house, but she decided to do it anyway.

When she opened the door, she quickly realised she had made a mistake. There were around a hundred people there, all dressed in loud and flashy outfits, with their faces showing signs of being really drunk.

"Oh my goodness, why are there so many people here?" She thought, feeling a bit panicked as anxiety tried to creep into her mind.

She felt like she didn't belong in this big crowd. Luckily, everyone was too intoxicated to notice her because of the loud music and the spilling drinks.

She took a deep breath, shoving her anxiety aside for now, knowing she'd deal with it later. In this moment, her focus was on giving her beloved flowers the justice they deserved and finding some peace and quiet. She clung to the hope that she could approach the party's host and work out a compromise.

Carrie walked up to someone who was busy fixing their drink at a punch bowl. "Hello, I'm... um, hello. No, that's not it. I'm Carrie," she said, her words stumbling nervously as she fumbled over her usual understanding of how to interact with people. It felt like all her knowledge of social interaction had vanished.

The blonde girl she had approached knit her eyebrows together and scrutinised Carrie from head to toe. Her gaze returned to meet Carrie's, her expression clearly judgmental, and Carrie was overwhelmed with a sense of embarrassment.

"Can I help you?" She asked sharply, holding her drink.

Why didn't I put on something else? She immediately regretted but pushed forward anyway.

She gulped and started to try and speak loudly over the music: "Uhm, yes. I live next door and was wondering if you-"

"WHO'S READY TO GET THROWN IN THE POOL?" A man yelled right behind her, making the whole crowd cheer him on.

The blonde she was talking to looked at Carrie, then back to the tall man, and smirked.

"Hey Jamie!" She called before pointing her manicured figure at Serena.

"I think this chick is more than ready!" She yelled, and everyone then shouted in agreement.

The man named Jamie looked at Carrie and smiled.

She felt as if she was about to pass out as Jamie and two other guys neared her.

She shook her head frantically and backed up as the guys approached her. Everyone watched the scene laughing, "Uhm, no, I can promise you I'm not!"

The blonde girl behind Carrie pushed her forward into the guys, and they all grabbed her, carrying her back towards the sliding glass door.

Her heart was beating frantically as she thrashed and kicked, trying to escape her inevitable, watery death.

"Please! No! Put me down." Carrie tried to tell them, but the guys didn't listen; all they heard was the music and the encouraging crowd. Her thrashing and yelling were completely ignored.

The party of drunk adults followed Carrie and the guys holding her. They opened the door to the patio, and Carrie looked at the glowing water awaiting her.

The guys brought her to the edge of the pool as she kicked around, exhausting her last-ditch attempt at freedom. They were too strong, though, and soon she was in the air.

Oh, fuck me, she thought before she plunged into the chilling water.

The crowd hollered as the three jerk wads laughed proudly at their great feat.

She crawled like a drowned rat out of the pool. Her hair tie was lost in the pool, and her messy brown hair was now dripping wet and swallowing her face.

She huffed and took off her cardigan, wringing it out on the side of the pool. She grumbled, and anger now completely filled her.

This was not how she saw her night going.

Her tank top and loose cotton pyjama shorts were soaked and now sucked close to her body. She hated how uncomfortable and exposed she felt.

Jamie whistled, looking Carrie up and down, "damn, hey, you're kind of ho-"

Carrie looked up at him and sent him a dangerous glare. He stilled and got quiet real quick. Putting his hands up in defense, he said, "Woah, sorry, I was just trying to have fun."

She breathed heavily and tried to control her temper. "Can you please just tell me who's party this is?"

"It's Stefan's, Stefan Todd's. This is his housewarming party. He just moved in. Take a chill pill, woman." Jamie narrowed his eyes at her.

"Where is this, Stefan?" She rolled her eyes, ignoring his snarky comment.

A tall man with dark hair yelled something incoherent through his slurs from the garage roof before jumping into the pool.

"That's Stefan."

Stefan Todd liked the feeling of being liberated.

He was the oldest of five siblings, not including himself. His family was great; he had no complaints there. But his whole life, he lived as a role model. His rebellious and free-spirited nature always contested this "role model" image his parents desperately wanted to force on him.

Hockey was his only vice. The only place where his fire and aggression were encouraged was where he could really be himself. He excelled at the sport at a young age. His parents were never too thrilled about the dangers, but that was the exact part Stefan loved. Ever since he was a teen, he would hit on the girls giggling in the stands and then hit his opponents on the ice. He was a rowdy kid. Always getting into trouble, he sticks his nose where it shouldn't. There was never a time when he wasn't bruised or scratched. And as he grew up into his teen years, all that stayed true. All that was new was that now his head was stuck up girls skirts instead of stuck up in a tree. Everything about hockey came naturally to him. So, when Stefaan was offered a full ride to play hockey at the best college in the state, He immediately took it. His parents were just thrilled that he was going to college. Playing hockey for his college soon turned into him getting scouted his senior year. And before he knew it, he was playing for a professional team right after graduation. Stefan could hardly blink before all this happened. His parents were insanely excited for him, as were his siblings. His littlest sister, Honey, told him that he had to win all his games for her. And that's exactly what he did. That's what he continued to do. He hasn't lost a game yet, and he hasn't broken his sister's promise. Stefan sure as hell doesn't plan to break it any time soon. He has been playing for his team for three years now; he's easily the best player in the league, having been completely undefeated this season. Even though Stefan is insanely good at hockey, he's never let that get to his head. His team matters to him, and without them, they wouldn't be undefeated or even as good as he was. He owed everything he had to hockey. Especially his freedom. Because of hockey, he could buy his first house in Citrus Grove at 26-a million-dollar house at that

Stefan made sure to find a house located in the most secluded part of the community he could. His realtor delivered, landing him a gorgeous, huge home nearly in the woods of the community. He was pretty sure both houses next to him were vacant, or maybe he remembered his realtor saying an old lady lived to his right. Whatever, something like that. Regardless, it wouldn't stop him from throwing his huge parties, like the one tonight. He wanted his first night in his new home to be something to remember. He called his hockey team and invited them over, telling them to bring anyone and everyone they knew. Stefan invited all the people he knew, and before he knew it, people were spilling out the seams of the house.

After Stefan's 4th shot of tequila and 8th beer, the alcohol officially stopped tasting like anything. His smile fell easily on his face, and his drunk eyes slurred hungrily over the scenes in front of him.

Dancing supermodels, the pool glowing with LED lights, and an inviting roof conveniently close to the deepest end of the pool

It was as if someone was whispering in Stefan's ear, "Do it pussy."

And that was all the encouragement he needed.

Stefan vaguely registered the scene of some chick in pyjamas getting tossed into the pool as he walked by inside his home. He climbed to the second floor and exited one of the windows that led to the roof. Stefan couldn't even hear his own words over the cheering of everyone. He smirked and took the final gulp of his beer before jumping in.

He was laughing hysterically as his buddies crowded around the pool. He effortlessly lifted himself up the side of the pool and out, his large, defined muscles flexing against his tanned skin as he did.

"That was fucking crazy, man." His best friend Matt, who was also on the team with him, said as he grabbed his arm and roughly pulled him against his chest. Stefan smirked and sent a flirty wink at some hot girl ogling his wet body. "Waters, great guys." He had stripped down to just his boxers, which shamelessly had a large horse printed on them. "But hey, Jamie told me some girl is here and is looking for you. She said, She's pissed as hell." Matt remarked. Stefan threw a towel over his fluffy, dark brown hair. He ruffled it a few times before resting the towel around his neck.

"Fuck me. Please tell me it's not destiny. This is why I promise I'll never fucking have a girlfriend; I can't stand any girl after hooking up twice. They get all clingy and expectant." Stefan made a face as they walked inside. He grabbed a solo cup from some girls he was hand-walking past and chugged the rest of its contents. Matt shook his head. "That's why you date these stuck-up and bitchy models. But no. It's not destiny."

"Thank god. I can't deal with her today. Or ever, for that matter." He groaned and grabbed the bottle of wine from the gift basket his mother had given him. He jumped up onto his huge island and said, "All I want to do is have fucking fun, man!" Stefan yelled as the head of the bottle was raised to his lips. He didn't waste a second and started to chug it. People turned and looked at Stefan. Their cheers and hoots only fuel the drunken, fiery spirit inside him. The red wine spilled from the lip of the bottle and dripped down his chin. His lips then started to sloppily chug the drink, letting a lot of it drizzle down his neck and abs. It looks like streaks of blood highlight his tanned and chiselled figure. After a moment, he finished the bottle and panted, a stupid grin on his lips as everyone cheered. A string of concerns started to knit Matt's eyebrows together. He took the empty bottle from the slurring Stefan while he got down from the counter. How he didn't fall? Matt didn't know.

"Oh, buddy, I think you should wash that off. You're going to stain your horseboxers." Matt said, knowing that would motivate him to actually do what he said and step away from the party for a moment. Stefan gasped and looked down as the red "Shit, you're right! I'll be right back."

He walked over to his stairs and ran up to the second floor, where the rooms were. He blinked against the spinning room and managed to stumble into a bathroom.

Stefan had not registered the whole room to even know which one of his bathrooms he walked into. All he could think about was water. I need water. He went to turn on the sink when a voice sounded behind him: "What the fuck are you doing in here?" Stefan whipped around to see a woman leaned over his tub, the end of her shirt lifted slightly in her hand, exposing the soft skin of her stomach. She obviously just got done ringing the bottom of it out.