[The Lone Outsider] 18 – Freedom

Walking calmly through New York City's streets, an old Chinese man in a suit could be seen with a smile on their face. This figure, while seemingly human, is far from it. They are an Outsider to the very dimension around them, not that anyone would notice unless the creature slipped up or made a mistake.

The only thing that made this man stand out would be how happy they looked and the fact they seemed to be walking around aimlessly, seemingly changing the direction in which they walked like the wind. However, to those who could see past the Mundane. They would notice balls of fire flowing into their body at every second.

These orbs were Souls, and this unknown Asian man was none other than Vale, who was wearing another human meat suit to disguise himself in the crowd.

As for why he calmly walked around the streets of New York City, seemingly constantly changing the direction in which he walked, the answer was simple. Many died in the massive city every day, over a dozen, perhaps over a hundred on the same day. That's thousands in a month, and after spending only a week roaming the streets of New York, changing his face and outfit every day, he now had close to a thousand souls roaming his Afterlife.

If he were cruel, he could have consumed the souls of each of his new Afterlife inhabitants. However, only three so far had the 'honor' of having their soul consumed by Vale, and they deserved it, as in, they were scum and repulsive human beings that didn't deserve reincarnation or life after death. Consuming their souls granted Vale their life experiences and their souls, while weak, gave a few more drops into the ocean that was Vale's soul.

The knowledge he got from the consumed souls was sparse, as the souls lived quite boring lives. However, one of them did give him quite a bit of knowledge of cars, of all things. He also got some knowledge about basic cooking and management skills, though those were not very valuable to him.

From dawn to dusk, Vale collected the mortal souls that crossed the threshold, while from dusk to dawn, he hid away in his Afterlife, working and studying. He practiced his wood carving, attempting to make a more refined vessel for his Omen, his Weeping Angel. Speaking of which, his Angel and the other souls in the afterlife have begun feeling...restless, for lack of a better word.

You see, there wasn't much for them to do. So, Vale has begun creating various entertainment areas around the town. A basketball court, a football field, a library, a cinema, and even a DND Game Room of sorts. While a majority of the souls that found themselves in his afterlife seemed to be in 'Shock' from dying, some have begun acclimating to their new homes. Several men, while restless, decided to put themselves to work, and seeing Vale's wood carvings, some have begun carving alongside him. Strangely enough, the men watched what he was doing, and somehow, some way, they began learning from just watching Vale carve wood, learning far faster than what would be expected.

It was strange; everyone who found themselves in the Afterlife was aggressive when they first found themselves dead, and many of the souls argued and tried fighting against Vale when they found out their fates, but with time, typically after a week, most of the souls couldn't help but accept their fate.

Some were afraid, some angry, and some doubtful. Many felt like they lacked a purpose. What was the point of living if they couldn't live?

So, the next day, Vale began offering those who dwelled within the afterlife a choice.

Do they want to stay in the Afterlife until the day they are reunited with their friends, loved ones, and families?

Would they rather reincarnate, have their memories wiped and their souls cleansed as they are sent down the river of reincarnation to begin life anew?

Or, would they rather serve as a Weeping Angel, being the beacons in the darkness that would guide lost souls to a haven?

Days passed, and as new souls found themselves in the afterlife, most decided to wait and see, hoping to see their kin one last time, while a few chose to reincarnate, having their souls cleansed and sent back to the mortal realm where they would eventually reincarnate and begin anew.

However, there were two souls, two altruistic individuals who wanted to help. They chose to become Weeping Angels, having their spiritual flesh removed and replaced while their souls were placed into new vessels.

Vale's three Weeping Angels roamed the streets of New York City at night in Vale's steed while he worked and studied, bringing forth new souls to the afterlife, where the town quickly grew in size.

Of course, some saw the Wooden statues as they roamed the streets, but most marked it off as mere delusions and hallucinations instead of paranormal creatures such as they were. However, a few thought otherwise, calling the police and informing them of the strange things they saw roaming the streets at night and stalking the alleys.

Two organizations caught on to the information, as they had moles and informants in the force, and before long, drones, agents, and police roamed the streets.

...

Sitting in a workshop within my Afterlife, I sat before a workbench, tinkering with some tools and devices as I began chipping away at a block of marble before me.

As my carving skill increased, I moved onto harder and harder materials, hoping to create highly durable vessels for my omens eventually. I did not know what would happen if their vessels were damaged or possibly destroyed, but I'd rather not lose such valuable assets if I could help it.

To be honest, I didn't really have a plan for progress, but what I did know was that I was in a universe designed to contain much stronger creatures than me, such as the Scarlet King and the other end-of-the-world SCPs. I needed strength, allies, and whatever else I could get my hands on, and I had a few options to do so.

I could stick with my original plan, helping the SCP Foundation and using them as a meat shield against the more horrifying entities that called Earth and this universe home. I could destroy the Foundation, take their SCPs and Gadgets, and consume the souls of their scientists, soldiers, and agents, gaining untold information and experiences, or I could make my own organization.

Seeing as I was not human, the Foundation would always try to contain or control me, that is without a doubt. In all of their existence, they had very few...SCP assets that they didn't have chained on a leash, ready to tug when they got out of line.

I could destroy them, but that would honestly be a massive stupid idea. The Foundation contains and holds back many of the more dangerous monsters that lurk in the darkness, and destroying them would certainly guarantee my eventual death and the destruction of Earth.

Then, there was my last idea: creating my own organization.

Such a thing would be incredibly difficult, and I'd likely be the target of all the other organizations and groups of interest in the SCP Universe. Not to mention my lack of money, which would make creating such an organization impossible in the mortal world, as doing anything out there costs money, requires favors and deals, and so much more.

It seems that the Soul's managing skills might actually come in handy...

The next question is, what could I offer or do to obtain revenue and a source of income? I could sell the raw resources that continuously appear in my warehouse, but that would be noticed quite quickly when the prices of raw goods begin dropping. If there's one thing that America and other countries notice, it's money and prices of goods.

Perhaps I could offer a specific service? Mercenary work, Art, custom cars, who knows?

Huh...I just had an idea: What if I sold whatever the bored souls in my afterlife create for an exchange, of course? They will have an eternity to practice their skills, create masterpieces, and who knows what else. I could exchange these goods and sell them outside in exchange for something the Soul would want or perhaps a token of some sort.

Of course that would not be viable in the short term as most of the souls in my Afterlife have not been in there longer than a month.

[A/N: Thoughts?]

I'll think about it: I am not in a rush for time, and I doubt they'll find me for at least a year.

Oh, how I should have knocked on wood.