THE HUNT FOR SOULS

6:00 AM.

The alarm exploded through the quiet of the room. Todd dragged himself out of bed just long enough to silence it, then collapsed back onto the mattress, still clinging to the last traces of sleep. It was the kind of sleep so sweet it begged him to stay, yet he knew he couldn’t. School waited. And he had only a few minutes before his mother inevitably came to wake him. Those four minutes stretched endlessly, feeling more like fifteen.

Exactly on time, the bedroom door opened.

— Todd, wake up! You’re going to be late for school! his mother said.

Still groggy, Todd pushed himself upright, put on his glasses, and shuffled to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, changed into fresh clothes, grabbed the backpack he had prepared the night before, and headed to the kitchen. His father was in the living room adjusting his tie; his mother was already doing dishes. Todd sat down. Pancakes with honey waited on the table.

When breakfast was done, he slipped into the car. His father drove him, as the route to work passed directly by the school. The ride was quiet. Todd stared out the window; his father listened to the morning news.

Once the car stopped at the high school entrance, his father leaned over.

— Be good at school, buddy!

— Okay, dad. Bye!

— Bye!

Todd stepped into the building. Twelfth grade. A May morning. The first class: math. The room was still waking up; the students wrote silently while the teacher raced through the lesson.

Midway through, the teacher asked a question. Nobody moved except Todd, the lone raised hand.

The teacher sighed.

— Let’s see what you’ve prepared for today. Since only one of you seems to be paying attention, I assume the rest already know the lesson and I’m wasting my breath!

He opened the grade book.

— Methwins! What was the homework for today?

Lucian Methwins — captain of the football team, the school’s golden boy, and the second-best student in the class after Todd Tresher — looked up.

— Integrals? Lucian said.

— Integrals?

— Yeah… integrals.

— What exactly?

Lucian froze. Despite his high grades, he never studied consistently; he crammed only before tests. Right now, he had nothing to say.

The teacher didn’t hesitate. He wrote the grade down sharply: 4.

— Methwins, sit down.

Then he turned to Todd.

— Todd, please answer.

Todd delivered the entire assignment flawlessly.

Lucian felt heat rise beneath his skin. Rage. Humiliation. He was tired of being compared to Todd, tired of losing his spotlight because someone quieter, smarter, and more disciplined stood ahead of him. Something inside him snapped.

The next class was PE. Lucian made sure Todd would be goalkeeper — the perfect target. He and his friends shot ball after ball at him, each one harder than the last. Todd finished the period covered in bruises.

But for Lucian, it still wasn’t enough. He wanted Todd gone. For good.

During the break, Lucian and his girlfriend approached him. With a tone far too friendly, Lucian invited Todd to his birthday party that evening. Todd hesitated — he never felt comfortable at such events — but Sylvia, Lucian’s girlfriend, insisted until he finally agreed.

The party was at 8:00 PM.

After school, Todd went home, finished his homework, reviewed the lessons from the day, and played a bit on his computer. By seven, he began preparing. The uneasiness hadn’t left him. It pulled at him like a warning. But he ignored it.

When he arrived at the party, the house was crowded. It felt like half the school was there. His heart pounded. It calmed only when he spotted his best friend. They stayed together in a quiet corner, talking, laughing — and for a moment, Todd thought everything might be fine after all.

At 9:16 PM, Lucian approached.

— Todd, come on. Alex and I are going to drink something.

The three walked behind the house. Lucian handed them two cups of punch, already prepared. After they drank, Lucian put an arm around Todd’s shoulder, pretending he wanted to go over some math problems.

They walked for fifteen minutes, discussing equations, until the trees thickened around them. They had reached the forest.

Then Todd felt something twist inside him. A violent, unnatural pain. His vision blurred. His knees weakened.

He felt like he was dying.

He tried to scream. Foam gathered at his mouth.

Lucian watched.

— Scream all you want, Todd. No one will hear you here.

Todd staggered, lost his balance, and collapsed. Darkness swallowed him.

The next morning, his mother called the police.

Todd Tresher, 18 years old, missing.

Search teams were deployed. His photo appeared on the news. Six hours later, they found him in the forest — lifeless, untouched, without a single mark on his body.

At the autopsy: poisoning.

His parents buried him days later. The police opened an investigation. All they knew was that someone from the party was responsible. Lucian already understood he was a suspect — but he had a strategy prepared, a way to divert attention, to stay untouchable.

Todd’s parents were devastated beyond words. Their only child — a gentle boy, hardworking, brilliant — taken from them.

And Todd… or rather, Todd’s soul… opened its eyes in a place devoid of light. A vast, suffocating darkness. Before him stood two doors: one red, one white.

He assumed their meaning instantly.

He chose the white one.

Inside awaited an angel