The Voice

You can control it, you're stronger than this. 

Phil's heart beat uncontrollably as he sat at the kitchen table staring at the atrocity before his eyes, trying to block out any thoughts of what the voice had made him do. The kitchen knife lay there with Jessica's blood slowly dripping off it onto the polished wood surface following his visit over there to her apartment, a stark reminder of just what he had become. A man in his young twenties, Phil was very much the successful up-and-coming businessman he had always worked hard to be and quite a hit with the ladies. His pristine appearance would always catch the eye of the ladies, his swaying brown hair, muscular prowess and a silver tongue that could make even the most defiant of women show an interest. He was very much the gentleman too; his work colleagues always acknowledging how kind-hearted he was and constantly uttering how he would never even hurt a fly - how they could see him now...

Jessica's misfortune came that very night in Fusion, the newest club in town where Phil had been specially invited by his best friend, Duncan. With Duncan being forced away due to a family emergency, Phil was left to his own devices and soon met this stunning blonde. Short, yet by no means lost in the crowd, Jessica was a secretary with ambitions of becoming a television star, Phil soon found out, her beauty emanating both visually and from within, and instantly catching Phil in her net. After a few drinks, one thing led to another and Jessica's invitation back to her place was fondly accepted.

The night's events were looking to head into further positive realms as Jessica's friendliness during the taxi ride home indicated that he would not be sleeping at home, but then came the turning point for the young man. The voices reappeared as they had just a few days back. Eating away at him, they carved a place in his mind and stayed there like a caged animal, breaking free at any moment, before heading back under lock and key. It was like a plague to him, suffocating him from a normal life and almost hypnotising him whenever they reared their head.

Faint whispers would begin the process, before a full blown voice of evil would command him; the kind of voice you'd imagine the devil to possess. An acid-like tongue, booming to the extent that it rocked Phil to his very core, eating at him from inside and unleashing a brittleness in his bones. He could not control it no matter how hard he fought, and somehow he had to hide it from those around him.

She's beautiful isn't she. You want to slay her Phil, you want me to feast on the sight of her insides and kill again. I know your every desire Phil, you know what to do when we get back to hers, right?

The voice inside his head wouldn't go and forever had this hold on him. At this point Jessica was so intoxicated and ready for a sexual encounter that she didn't realise Phil's sudden change in colour, from an alcohol-fuelled redness in the face to the colour being completely sucked from him to leave but a pale man haunted by something deep inside.

The taxi pulled up outside and both Phil and Jessica stepped out, Phil giving the driver the cash plus a tidy tip. For all the good deeds he had done in his life he felt plagued by this tormenting spirit inside him, unable to do anything about it. They stepped inside as Jessica pushed him up against the wall and began kissing him almost violently, igniting the voice inside his mind.

She's getting a bit forceful Phil, you better show her what you've got, tell her who's fucking boss here! Take her to the kitchen and finish this before it gets even harder to let her go!

Phil's determination to eliminate this threat from within was quickly quelled as his possession took full control as they took their ongoing sexual acts into the kitchen. With Jessica sat on the table awaiting Phil, he caught glimpse of the knife rack on the kitchen side and the voices commanded him.

Haha, there's our instrument of choice tonight Philip! Now it's our time to have a bit of fun!

With that, he involuntarily grabbed for the largest knife and before Jessica could even let out a cry for help he plunged it into her windpipe, the cracking of bone coupled with gushing blood somehow bringing a wry smile upon his face as the demon inside enjoyed yet another taste of carnage and murder. He had been fully taken over, his every sense and emotion raging with a lust for blood and evil overcoming every bone in his body. As if like some new-age Jekyll and Hyde, Phil had become a new person, murdering yet again.

The lifeless body of Jessica drooped over the wooden table, blood engulfing the floor of the kitchen, baring the reflection of a once innocent Phil as he gripped tightly onto the knife.

Our work is done for yet another night little puppet. Now we must go home, rest up and let the slaying begin again tomorrow.   

This was the point at which the voice disappeared, as if a collaborator fleeing the scene of a crime and leaving their partner to clean up the situation. Covered in blood and holding the weapon that had seen the end of this innocent young lady, Phil's heart raced at the thought of the repercussions. Where would he hide were he to go on the run? How would he clean up this carnage before his eyes? Too many questions and no answers...

Unable to pull himself together, Phil fled the apartment, still covered in blood and unflinching in revealing his blood-stained clothes to the public. By this time it was around 4am so the cover of the night and the silence shaded his dark secret as he paced through the streets like a man on a mission until he reached the solace of his home. With every street that passed he could see Jessica's face, engulfed in blood; her lifeless body over the table and the memory of each plunge of the knife into her torso as painful as that which Jessica must have felt.

His hand shook rapidly as he looked to insert his key into the front door, the sheer sight of the blood on his hands a reminder of the murder he had just committed under the influence of a demon from the depths of hell. Running up the stairs, Phil couldn't comprehend the thought of being punished for the sins he had committed. No-one would believe his crazed explanation of voices and possession, but how else could he explain it all?

He sat down at the kitchen table, much like the one he had just committed a heinous crime upon, and lay down the knife he had concealed on his swift journey home. The blood a stark reminder of the terrors that had taken him over, Phil's mind contorted with thoughts of suicide, giving himself up and even who his next victim may well be. His predicament was now one of a true murderer; save lives and kill himself or embrace the darkness inside him?

You don't want to end this, Phil. You and me have only just got started in our little game and you wouldn't wanna upset me would you, we're just beginning the fun! Look at yourself and tell me this isn't what you want. We're destined for greatness the two of us, you'll see... 

Phil could picture himself plunging the knife deep into his chest, ending this hell he was living and saving those who would potentially be next on his list.

Get those thoughts out of your head, you're mine now.

The voice grew stronger with every word as Phil picked up his phone and checked his text messages. Scrolling through, he clicked on the messages from Duncan and proceeded to reply to his last message.

'Mate, hope everything's ok. You need to pop over to mine, I've got an emergency of my own.'

Phil pressed send and placed the phone on the droplets of blood left by the knife on the table.

"We've got our next next subject..."

I knew you'd warm to me Phil! I've got great plans for Duncan's death.

Phil laughed with the voice as he sat back in his chair and placed his arms up in the air. All he had to do now was wait for a text message and his next killing was all scheduled...