I placed the milk carton on the shelf in my basement. This soul had taken me by surprise and shattered the ornamental glass vessel I usually prepared for them to take up residence in. So, I'd needed to get creative. Unfortunately for my basement's decor, it stuck out like an ugly, sore thumb.

I sighed.

In response, the soul in the milk carton swirled angrily. I tapped the plastic—slightly forcefully—and the soul recoiled with haste.

"Better get used to it," I said. "They all did." 

I gestured to the large shelves placed haphazardly around the room. There were small bottles and large bottles, plain vials and patterned ones—and in each was a small, angry soul. They appeared as little, glowing swirls of light and each had its own colour. Mind you, I didn't collect them for fun (even though I found them awfully aesthetically appealing). I collected all the bad and abominable. The evil and unforgivable. In fact, I liked to consider myself somewhat of a hero—or a vigilante at the very least.

Leaving the milk carton soul to its fate, I strode over to my desk and sat down tiredly. Capturing a soul took a little from me every time I did it, and I found myself exhausted. The angry, red soul that lived closed to my desk pulsed silently in fury.

"Don't look at me like that," I told it sternly. "You know what they say—you reap what you sow."