Cursed and Lonely: The Stop

Chapter 10: Voices

He had been walking for quite some time. Only a few days had passed or it could have been a week. He did not know. He had no sense of time.

With every day that passed the voices started to get stronger. He could not withstand them any longer. The sound of him drinking water did not sooth him anymore. He could hear them shouting. He could hear them screaming. He could only hear those voices.

There was no voice that would help him. There was no voice that would save him. He went insane. The voices took control over him. He stopped resisting them. He was too tired, too exhausted. He was sitting in what seemed like a small village. There didn't seem to be anything special there. He did not care, those voices had already filled his head.

He started drinking a lot of water. The gulping wasn't soothing and it did not help. He tried to make his head empty. He did not know what he was doing but out of habit he crossed his legs and put his hands on his knees. It was a comfortable position.

He tried to think about nothing. He tried to think of one white dot in the darkness. He came in harmony with the voices. He felt free again. It felt like he had done this before but he could not remember when or where.

He could not hear the voices in his head anymore, he was calm but he was not sane. He looked around the village, it didn't seem that small anymore. There were too many buildings, there were too many people.

His eye fell on a shop with big and beautiful knifes. He stood up and strolled towards it. It was fascinating. When he saw them he felt like something was missing. As if he had something like that before. Something he had lost.

He was interested and fascinated. He hadn't been this interested in something for what seemed like forever. He broke the shops glass with his stick, it took him a few tries but after a while he had made an opening.

He went inside and started to roam around. He looked at all the blades in front of him. Most of them were dull but there were a few that had been sharpened. His eye fell on the biggest and strongest looking one, he tried to lift it but he couldn't move it up. He gave up and chose the lightest looking one.

He was surprised by how heavy it actually was. He put the sword in the scabbard that had been laying in front of the sword and put it on his hip. It felt familiar, he felt safe.

He left the shop feeling better than ever. He felt strong and powerful. He did the usual that he had done in every city and village. He opened his bag to see what he had left, he had not touched the glass bottle yet. He felt like it was something special.

He found more of those in the city and took them with him. It looked like it was special. He had not drank any of it yet. When he was done he started walking again. Walking towards his next destination. He did not know what it was neither did he know where it was. He gripped his walking stick strongly and kept on walking.

It only took the voices a few days before they could not be controlled anymore by the white dot in the darkness. The position he had previously been in didn't feel comfortable anymore. The familiarity was gone.

The voices almost consumed him. The voices didn't stop. Even though it was silent, they were not. He needed to drink some water. He needed to hear the soothing sound of him gulping again, even though it did not sooth him anymore. He did not even know if he had the strength to take the bottles out of his bag.

He had no idea if he would ever be able to return to his senses. He felt like he was getting consumed. He reached to his bag searching for his saviour, he touched something hard. It was a bottle made of glass. He could vaguely remember what it was.

It was something special so he opened the bottle, he could not smell neither could he taste. So he started drinking, he heard the gulping sound. It wasn't soothing but his throat started hurting. It felt like it was on fire, as if someone had put a hot needle through his throat.