Kill him, kill him. The Voice hisses inside your head bringing a sharp jab of pain compelling you to follow its orders if you want the pain to stop. You begin to walk down the alleyway against your will, unable to stop your feet from moving forward.
“Get out of my head!” You have to try even though you know that yelling won’t work, it never does. How can it when there’s no one ever around to here you scream. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”
Kill him and it will stop. The Voice weighs you down, pushing at your brain. The force is so powerful you stumble into the alley’s walls. When you get up you stare at the victim you are ordered to kill and your teeth flash in the moonlight as you grin at him.
You are strong.
You love to kill.
You live for this.
Make him bleed.
Those thoughts are primary in your mind and you succumb to the Voice. The stainless steel of your long knife glints as your teeth do in the moonlight as you thrust it upward over the adolescent you need to kill. Your shadow and those shadows of the walls engulf he child’s face so you can’t see the wave of terror cross his face. The sharp blade comes down too quickly on the child and before he even had a chance to scream, he was dead.
“No. Stop it.” You pull the blade out of the child’s chest and frantically try to stop the bleeding without giving heed to the state of the boy’s life. All you know that there is a lot of blood flowing and the surge of it needs to stop. You grab the black fabric covering your eyes off your face and put it on the boy’s wound. The Voice doesn’t allow you to heal him and it pushes more thoughts inside your mind.
No. Let him bleed. Slash him. Mutilate him. He deserves to die.
Yes. Yes. Let the blood come, let it flow. He needs to die.
You don’t even have a chance to fight it this time as You stop dressing the wound. With a relish that you didn’t have before, you dig the knife into the child’s left shoulder and make a long and deep but clean cut diagonally down his body. You extract the knife and do the same with the right shoulder and cut diagonally across the corpse. You lick your lips at the sight of blood. You cut the flaps of skin off the body and place them around the head. The cobblestone streets are now a river of deep crimson. You slowly do away with each of the organs, still warm, and place them around the body as well. Your black gloved hands look even darker with the warm liquid of the boy coated on them. Lastly, you remove the heart and place it gently in a little brown antique box. This heart is why you came here tonight.
The alley and its shadows encase you, cover you, and blanket you as if you were its long-lost friend. And now, shadow and darkness are your only companions.
You love it. You feel so in control. You are finally powerful. This is your life and you need to do this.
You loved that didn’t you, my little assassin? The Voice comes back in your head but this time it stays prominently there so you can no longer mistake it for being gone or pretend that it wasn’t there.
“Yes.”
You walk slowly away from the scene as you respond to the Voice. Tears streak your face as you respond. You block out your confusion and then feeling as though you need to reassure the Voice of your commitment You reiterate yourself – “Yes, Your Majesty.”
