I had a fear of silence. I know it’s a dumb fear to most of you, but for me, it was terrifying. It all started in my 11th grade, year I was in cyber school and my parents would leave everyday and leave me home alone so I could do whatever I want. I was depressed and lacked motivation so I’d just ignore the classes and play my game or watch videos, whether on the Xbox, computer, or my phone. I’d do anything I could to kill time and boredom, but since I was in cyber school, my parents could check my grades quite easily. They would check once or twice a month and when they seen I was failing, they didn’t much like that so they took away all my electronics and anything that allow me to have fun else than my TV. They forced me to make up work and allowed me to watch TV when I finished. They would give back my electronics a few days later so I’d have to work and work and when I was finished, I’d lay in my bed and let the TV play. It wasn’t interesting to me, but it was something to do better than staring at a wall, I guess. So it would happen over and over. I’d get my stuff back and ignore classes then get it taken away and given back in a few days. But one day, they had enough. They decided to take away my electronics, but they took the TV as well, leaving me with nothing to do. So I’d stare at the wall or celling and think, but then that’s when I noticed it.
The voices, so many voices. They talked to me and talked to each other as if there was an audience in my room that I could not see. My blood ran cold, the voices were horrifying, telling me to do things that I didn’t want to do. Thousands of voices whispered and screamed, “KILL YOURSELF!” I tried my best to ignore it, but they constantly repeated those words; “KILL YOURSELF!” They tried convincing me that I should. They’d say things like, “Come on, you know you want to,” and “Release yourself from despair.” An agonizing 4 hours passed of them trying to convince me to do this deed that they so much craved. I couldn’t ignore it anymore. With my depression getting worse and losing my sanity slowly due to the voices, I snapped I screamed “FINE!” The voices got quiet for a second, then they began cheering me on to do the deed again.
I walked down the stairs and grabbed a knife. As I was about to plunge it in to my throat, my father stopped me. He grabbed the knife and held me close with tears in his eyes, haunted by the fact he almost lost his son. My dad tried getting me mental help. He made me go to a psychologist but nothing worked. The voices stayed even though I had my electronics back. I could still hear them, they never left my head, they only got louder and louder. I got less sane and less sane everyday. Voices were there. These demons in my head, they yelled, “LIAR!” They were furious that I didn’t make good on my words to do as they said. They would tell me to kill anyone I was around. They’d descriptively say the ways I could do it, such as; I should grab the knife and slowly insert it in my father’s throat, then once the handle of the blade touched skin, twist it and slowly carve around his throat. I was horrified with descriptions the voices made.
I went to the psychologist that day and the voices described ways to kill him the second I opened the door. Mid way through the session, I snapped. I had to do what the voices said, I must feed their hunger for dastardly deeds. I pull a pencil out of the pencil basket and stabbed him while he wasn’t paying attention. He fell to the ground and swung rapidly trying to get me off. I jiggled and twisted the pencil around. I pulled my weapon out. The sharp pencil led broke off so I was left a broken leadless pencil, but that didn’t stop me. I brought the pencil down on his neck, it didn’t go in at first, but I applied more and more pressure until it finally burst through the skin. I went as deep as the pencil could go without losing my grasp on it. He gurgled and shaked rapidly, then finally stopped kicking. His lifeless body covered in blood, gave me a sense of relief and happiness. I smiled and laughed with more joy than I’ve ever felt in my life. The voices told me how to clean up, so I did. There was no saw or anything sharp enough to separate his limbs. I broke the glass table and used the shards to separate the tissue connecting his arms and legs and neck. After the tissue was separated, propped up each limb on something and stomped it until the bone broke. It was messy, but I took all of it and made platters out of it, shaping it, and covering the smell to make it seem like some type of exotic meat. I cooked it up and sold it to hungry people. I watched a few through their windows as they fed their family the special meat I prepared them. I chuckled to myself quietly as they unknowingly enjoyed the meal. Some asking for more.
I didn’t stay around to get caught. I left and went home smiling proud of myself. The voices were proud too. I began talking to the voices, conversating and laughing with them. The voices weren’t so bad. When I got to know them, they never told me what they were or who they were, but they became my best friends. I separated myself even more from the world. I didn’t need anything, but the voices in my head.
The months passed by and I spent my whole summer killing anybody. The voices told me to no matter if they are good or bad, I was just happy. I got to kill. I’d gruesomely kill my victims, but sometimes, I had to make it quick. But when I got to make them suffer, oh I’d savor every moment. Their screams fueled me, making me more and more excited. When they finally died, I’d frown or smile depending on how much pleasure I was given from the ordeal. I’d dispose of the bodies the same way; cooking and selling them to randoms and watching as they munch down on the flesh of their own. It’d be even more pleasureful when I serve someone their own family, watching them enjoy it. It was hilarious to me. They were helping the one that killed their family, the idiots never knew. After weeks of killing, I stopped for awhile and the voices got furious. They wanted me to kill more than ever. They said, “We are so close.” “One more, one more, that’s all we need.” I didn’t know why they begged so badly. They usually weren’t so demanding, but there was something special about killing one more person.
I didn’t notice ’till that night, but the voices counted down my every murder I committed. They counted down a number. I was having to much fun to notice, I guess, but I laid bed getting more annoyed and annoyed with the voices constant begging. So I got up and left the house. I made up some sort of b******t excuse with my parents. I told them I wanted to sleep over my friends house and they happily said yes. They loved the fact I had a friend, even though there was no friend that I went to see, they didn’t know that. So I left and set off to find some unsuspecting person walking in a isolated area. I did the usual stuff happily. I was tired though, so I didn’t take too much time making them suffer for I wanted sleep once they perished. I was filled with joy that quickly turned to a feeling, a dread. When I heard all the voices say simultaneously, “Your turn,” in a demonic tone full of malice and hate towards me. Soon after, the body I just sliced to pieces had come back together and risen up from the dead bones, crackled and morphed. It was the most horrifying thing I had ever seen. It looked different from who I just killed.
It was a woman eyes, filled with white blood began to pour from her eyes. The teeth were razor sharp. The mouth oozed blood. The cuts I made were still there all over the body. The dress was torn. All her clothes were torn. Her skin turned blue. The white eyes went to black and the mouth opened unnaturally wide, as it let out a bloodcurdling scream, then it dropped, walking on its hands and legs like an animal. I ran, shutting the door behind me which did nothing, as it burst through the door and followed at insane speeds. I sprinted all the way home. I panicked and barricaded myself in my room. The creature crawled upstairs after me. It scratched and banged on the door to no avail. The creature then said to me, “We’re your friends let us in.” The voice wasn’t the same as the voices used to be in my head. It was multiple voices, speaking simultaneously out of the creatures mouth in a demonic pitch that made a cold run down my spine. That’s when I heard it; my father yelling, “What’s that noise?”
My father came out of the room with his pistol in hand and shot the creature. I heard the creature crawling on the walls and then a yell from my dad as it pounced on him. I could hear the flesh being torn from his body. The smacking of the creatures lips as it ate the bones, cracking under its teeth. Then a scream from my mother that was quickly silenced. The creature fed on them both. The sounds of it eating was disgusting, I felt sick to my stomach. My eyes were filled with tears. I uncontrollably sobbed and sobbed at the loss of my parents and the fear of being next, but the creature left the house. I heard it go downstairs and exit the door. I couldn’t move. I sobbed repeatedly. I knew it would come back to get me. I needed to leave quickly. I needed to get out of this town. I finally gathered the courage to unbarricade my door. I took my dad’s car keys off of his mangled body. The sight of my mother and father had me holding back vomit. I also took some money from them and sprinted to the car. Once I heard the creature in the neighbor’s home, I floored it and I made it out that town. I went as far away from the town as I could. As I left, I heard its bloodcurdling scream once more.
Years later, I was married and had a wife and kids. I had a steady job and no one every found out about all of my victims. I went to church every Sunday and tried to repent for my sins although none of it matters now. I came home earlier today to see blood everywhere and my son and my wife’s bodies torn to pieces. I heard the rummaging in the kitchen and heard its bloodcurdling scream once more. As it left the kitchen, I was face to face with it. It said, “I’VE FOUND YOU!” in its disgusting voice and began crawling towards me. I’m in my room with door barricaded as I type this. Its left finally after hours of scratching and pounding.
Oh god… It’s outside my window…