My Sociopathic Plans for the Afterlife
These bone chilling entities are – as their name puts it – the tortured souls of humans that suffered a tragic death or hold so many regrets in life that their spirits never progressed onto the afterlife. They are instead trapped in limbo, a plane devoid of any real existence between the one we live on and the one that awaits after death.
(Not to be confused with Clive barker's awesome action figures and novelettes.)
Not far from what's depicted in Hollywood horrors where spirits return from the grave to haunt their killers or to simply wreak havoc in some spooky house on some random Japanese neighborhood, though different in the sense that most are not as palpable or murderous in their intent, these tortured souls or spirits are condemned by their own guilty conscience or pain to suffer endlessly without any real purpose or reason.
The best and worst example I can think of is the chain rattling spirit of Jacob Marley [you know, the one that announced the coming of the three ghosts to Scrooge in Dickens' A Christmas Carol]. He was forever doomed to carry the weight of the chains and locked boxes that stood as a symbol of the avarice that blackened his soul when he lived.
A gloomy and depressing prospect, it makes me want to go out and live my life at the fullest. Then I remember that I'm socially impaired so it wouldn't do me that much good anyway.
No, I'm serious.
Let me just say, that if you ever wake up to intense otherwordly moaning and wailing shaking your bedroom windows and open one to find a strange shadow hovering outside trying to get in, you would be more partial to my view of thigs.
Are you a believer? [read it over, that was not a Justin Bieber reference O.O]