Psycho

Unit 1

Disclaimer: This story contains violence, gore, sexual content and strong language. Subjects covered might trigger some. If you are very sensible or easily offended, please abstain from reading.

The scent of food was delicious and spread all over the apartment as Dan and Phil ate dinner. They had put a TV show they had to keep up with on the screen and Phil was captivated. He ate his food slowly, unable to leave his eyes off the show.

Dan, sitting next to him, was zoning out. He was turning his fork and knife in between his fingers, the plate resting on his lap. The sound of the TV show was just a faint buzzing in his ears and he stared at Phil's chest.

Dan imagined himself stabbing his knife straight into Phil's heart. He imagined his blue eyes looking at him with pain and plead as he screwed the knife deeper into his flesh, watching the dark red blood squirt out of his wound. He grasped Phil's back with his free hand to get a better hold as his eyes expressed panic, and he lacerated down his flesh with all his strength, litres of fresh blood splashing out of the gap.

“Sixteen…” he whispered, grinning sinisterly.

 “Dan?”

 The sound of the TV became clear again and Dan looked up at Phil.

 “You okay?”

Dan looked at the fork and knife still in his hand and glanced at Phil's chest, which was clean. He realized he had been intensely staring at Phil's chest for about 10 minutes, vividly daydreaming about yet another really dark thing.

 “Um, yeah, I'm fine.” Dan sputtered.

 He took a huge bite of his food to swallow down the awkwardness.

Phil chuckled lightly and stared back at the screen. Dan chewed loudly on his food as he sweated nervously. 

He was so scared. Why did he keep imagining those things? They were horrible; he never wanted to see those kinds of things! This voice in his head, dictating every move, every single atrocity.

Dan put his plate on the table, stood up quickly, swallowed the end of his bite and stumbled to the door of the living room.

 “Where you going?” Phil wondered. "The episode's not over yet!"

 “I… I just… I'll watch it later…”

Dan swiftly opened the door and ran to his bedroom as fast as he could. He threw himself on his bed and curled up in a ball. 

He breathed heavily and shook dangerously. He felt so sick he thought he'd throw up. 

Dan had always been able to manage himself after hearing the voice and witnessing some terrifying scenarios, but lately it seemed like it traumatized him every single time. He was used to it, he would zone out all the time and just imagine those kinds of thing for no reason whatsoever, but he knew it was normal and he wasn't supposed to worry about it. But not a long time ago, it started getting more intense, and every time getting gorier, scarier...

Dan believed it was just a phase, that it would come back to normal soon enough. It had to. He couldn't just run like an idiot every time he imagined this stuff. It had to. He had to go back in the living room and act normal. He had to.

He stood back up and rubbed his sweaty forehead with his forearm. Dan dragged his feet to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror; sweat marks were covering his entire face and he was as pale as a sheet. He opened the tap and gently splashed water all over his face. He raised back his head to stare into his own eyes in the mirror.

Dan saw his razor resting on the countertop. He grabbed it in a swift movement and slit his throat. 

The razor dropped to the floor as the wound freed blood just like a waterfall. Dan grasped his bleeding neck with both hands. He closed his eyes tightly, gasping and choking. He stepped back quickly and banged into the door behind him, gripping the doorknob to avoid falling to the ground. He slid down the door and before his eyes became too heavy, he saw the number “16” written on the floor with his own blood.

He opened his eyes again. Dan jumped when he realized his razor was still on the countertop, and that his neck was uninjured.

He ran his fingers through his hair madly and rubbed his eyes firmly.

Dan scurried out the bathroom door and bumped into every wall. He was terrified; he just wanted to get control of his body again!

He was so shaken, he felt his head throb.

He rushed to the living room, he needed to control his body, he needed to prove Phil, to prove himself that he was normal!

 He slammed the door open and Phil jumped.

“Dan?!” Phil exclaimed, standing up quicker than Dan had ever seen anybody get up. “Oh my God, are you okay?” He grabbed Dan's shoulder. “You're so pale you shou-”

Dan tottered forward as his head pounded. He opened his mouth to tell Phil he felt alright, that he was normal, but his body suddenly felt overly heavy and his eyeballs rolled into their sockets before he violently collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

                                                                                              ~

“Dan! DAN! WAKE UP!”

Dan jumped back into consciousness just like he had been drowning. He breathed heavily, still lying on the living room floor. Phil's worried face was hovering over him.

“Thank God…” Phil sighed, relieved. “You blacked out, I was about to call 999 on your butt!”

Dan sat back up and took his head with both hands. He tried getting up but Phil forced him to stay down.

“Easy there.” he said, pushing Dan back to the ground. “We don't want you fainting again.”

“I'm fine.” Dan grunted, insisting on getting up. “Probably had food poisoning or something.” he lied.

Phil let Dan up but protested with:

“Well I'm not letting you cook for the next weeks; I wouldn't want you to kill me!”

Phil had a good laugh. He laughed and laughed, and started coughing, and coughed and coughed... and choked. He took his throat with both hands and gasped for air. He couldn't breathe anymore.

“Sixteen…” Dan murmured before Phil fell to the ground like a rag doll.

“Yeah, that would be inconvenient…” Dan whispered, still bugging on the word 'kill'.

“You should get some rest now.” Phil proposed.

 Dan nodded. Phil friendly smiled as Dan exited the living room to head to his bedroom.

 “I wouldn't want you to kill me” he heard Phil's voice repeat in his head.

 Dan slowly lied himself down on his bed, Phil's voice echoing through his mind.

 He sinisterly smiled.