An arsonists cookbook

Chapter 12: Jack Herring

A few days after the incident at the train yard, Jack was already fired from his job. He had killed his partner and ultimately killed himself. Not many physical scars remained from that day but as he looked down at the deep purple coffin lowering into the ground, he felt his insides knot and his heart be torn in half. He had saw so much death in the past few weeks; He had saw so much hate in the past few weeks. At the end of the day, I'm alive. That's all Jack could consolidate himself with but even being alive and breathing was becoming more and more of a burden as each day passed. The cold, dark days of winter were begging to pass and spring was just around the corner. Maybe the sun of spring will help when I'm homeless. Jack was already planning how he would survive being homeless. He was given ten days to move out of his apartment; he was given ten days to live as normal. He couldn't believe what was happening to him. The months before the investigation were a struggle but nothing like this. His world was crumbling and a slow death was approaching him, the grim reaper was hot on his heels. He was at deaths door now. 

After the funeral service Jack decided not to go to the wake but instead, take a slow stroll across town to the final living place of Hux. The train yard had always been a slightly eerie place to be, however, now it was like hell. The marks which we left on the dusty concrete were still there and although the tracks were cleaned and replace, Jack could still see what he had witnessed. As if it was on replay. 
"Jack, it's your fault" whispered a voice behind him. Jack whipped around but no one was there.
"Jack, you know you're to blame" the raspy whisper spoke again. Jack franticly stared into the opening train yard, he was in shock. I'd recognise that voice anywhere, that's Hux! Jack thought to himself, he was now getting worried. Hux is dead! What am I talking about?! Jack could feel his own mind begging to deteriorate just at the raspy voice of Hux. The voice sounded like it was dying, though it did not fade away like a dying voice of a man should. It stayed.
"Jack, you know as well as me, you locked those doors!" the voice now began to become a yell. Jack began to become fearful of the voice which was becoming increasingly louder.
"Jack, find him! And you'd better kill him! Slaughter him like the filthy dog he is!" The voice turned into a screech becoming louder and obtaining a higher pitch. Jack clutched his ears and fell to his knees with anxiety, he couldn't understand.
"Who?" the words fell from Jacks quivering lips, he didn't even realise what he had said until he heard its echo around the deserted train yard.
"The idiotic driver of the train! Avenge me by killing him slowly and I will leave you alone!" the now screeching voice bargained.
"Okay! Okay!" Jack pleaded as tear began to fill his eyes. I am haunted or just insane? jack thought to himself, still confused by the voice that was coming from what seemed to be the floor of the empty train yard.  
"Good I shall guide you, first you need a name change, you can no longer be known as Jack Herring to anyone but me" the voice now returned to a sigh of despair. Jacks heart sank as he realised he was going to be controlled by a voice in his head. I must be crazy.