Voices (standard:horror, 1322 words)
Author: Lev821	Added: Dec 08 2020	Views/Reads: 1259/887	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
What can Ian do about the voice and headache inside his mind that he is convinced is a demonic possession?

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

as it headed for boiling point. After a few minutes, he was sitting in 
the main room, watching the drill on the small coffee table through 
curls of steam from his tea. He had fitted the drill bit, and had 
plugged it in to see if it worked. It did, so now it sat there 
patiently waiting for him to begin. 

He finished his tea, and stared at the cup. I suppose I'd better wash
it, he thought, and walked through to his kitchen. He washed it, and 
put in on the draining board. Cedric and Jasper will need feeding, he 
remembered. What if it goes wrong? They'll be trapped in their cage. 
They can't stay then. They'll have to go. He took the cage outside onto 
the small patch of grass outside his flat, and let them go. He watched 
as they sniffed around the new environment, and realised that he 
couldn't put it off any longer. 

He went back inside and closed the door behind him. Leaning back and
closing his eyes, the banging came again inside his skull. Let me out, 
came the voice, and Ian was soon sitting back in his seat, drill in 
hand. 

He wondered if he should shave first, but then decided against it. He
lifted the heavy contraption to the top of his head and pressed it 
against his scalp, his finger poised to start it. His eyes were 
clenched. He waited a few more seconds, then pulled the trigger. The 
drill bit easily ripped through his scalp, and tore through his skull. 
Pieces of skin and bone few in all directions, and it soon reached the 
film covering the brain. The weight of the drill almost pushed the bit 
through, but Ian caught it, and tilted forward. There were a few 
seconds of agony as the drill's weight strained within his cranium, 
threatening to crack his skull in half, but it fell out and clattered 
on the floor. 

Ian collapsed to the carpet, breathing heavily, a trickle of blood
seeping from the hole down his face. 

All you've done, said the voice inside his head, is create a doorway, so
I, and others like me can come and go as we please. Then it was gone. 
The headache vanished. It worked, he thought, it worked. There was a 
slight singeing pain in and around the hole, but he was sure it 
wouldn't last. After five minutes, he had wiped away the trickle of 
blood, and wedged on a cap. He felt good enough for a trip to the shop, 
so he donned his coat, found his keys and left the flat. The hamsters 
had vanished. He walked up a few steps onto the pavement. 

Suddenly another voice inside his mind spoke, different from the other.
I appreciate the doorway, much better access. You don't mind if I 
borrow you for a while, do you? I want to go this way. Ian turned and 
walked to the left, his actions not his own. No, he thought, stop, 
stop! But he walked into the main paved shopping area of his home town, 
and vanished amongst the crowds.


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