Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums

How long he had been there, I was not quite sure anymore.

He has been there… as long as I can remember. My fifth birthday, my eighth grade graduation… He has just… been there. He has never left… not once. For a long time, after he made his presence known to me, I ignored him- living through my grade school years with only minor interruptions from him; it was not until I entered my middle school years that things progressively got worse.

He, the voice, referred himself as being my friend- my only friend. That… I never understood. Now, I am not saying I was a popular girl in school, but I definitely had friends and I was rather well-liked, even, by everyone.

I kept him as a secret for a very long time, but, like I said, when I entered my middle school years and things began to escalate, I told my mother everything, since I was beginning to worry. She was rather baffled at first, but then she realized that I was a rather obscure child and young adult, and that there had always been something a little… off about me, even as a baby.

Ultimately, though, she shrugged it off and told me it was just my hormones. I knew my own mother, though- I knew she was stressing over it. She was simply hiding her worry because she didn't want me to stress about it. But, I already was, so she was a little too late.

I tried to shrug it off, as well, but this angered him and made it ten times worse.

Now… what was he doing that made everything so bad? I do not know, if I was to be honest.

You see, through my whole life, even now, I had blackouts- holes in my memory that never returned. One moment, I would be doing homework and then suddenly wake up in the middle of the road at night. At first, in such an example as that, I shrugged it off as I fell asleep, I was stressed and it was just causing me to sleep walk.

Slowly, one by one, people went missing. Here and there- nobodies. A random homeless person… at first. Then, a child, an orphan, then, another child, a very well loved child by his or hers family… a grade schooler... Random, people I saw randomly on the street or in the halls of the school I went to. Then, acquaintances I would randomly hang out with from time to time. It was not until my best friend, Bethany, went missing, that I really started to become suspicious. Do not get me wrong, I was not a fool, I had my suspicions that it could be the work of him.

When I confronted him about it, he simply laughed and pushed a piece of hair behind my ear, whispering, "Don't fret, precious, I'm here,"

The worst thing about it all was that he wasn't even there- it was all in my head. It was all a terrible nightmare that I never could wake up from.

"I'll be the one to protect from your demons, Kara," He smiled, razor teeth glistening in the darkness, "I'll be the one to save you from yourself."

See… This made no sense! He was my demon! He was my poison devil, my pain, and my darkness. Save me from myself?

"Safe, here, with me, from pain and truth… choice," His hands raked across my skin like feather touches- like fog… because he wasn't there. "Go back to sleep. See, they don't give a fuck about you… like I do,"

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head furiously, not wanting to believe all the lies. I felt tears burn my eyes like fire, threatening to fall, I would not give him that satisfaction! "Please…" I whispered, my voice failing to hide my desperation and how frightened I really was, "leave me alone..."

"Shh…" I heard him whisper, "I can't do that, Kara… If I left… why, you'd be consumed by the darkness…"

"B-But…"

"Shh… Go back to sleep, dear, dear, Kara," I felt his lips touch my forehead, making me shake with fright; "You mustn't fret over these things. I will burden your devils, since you are not strong enough,"

After a few years and countless unsolved disappearances, everyone stopped being my friend, afraid they would be taken, as well. At first, I envied them. How they were able to escape so easily and not have to surfer consequences, but, then, they disappeared, too. He did not care. I was affiliated with them at some point in time, which made them a target- no matter how nice they had been to me.

At some point, I did begin to believe him. I let him consume me and make me a hollow shell- his own, personal puppet he could use whenever he wanted, and I could not say a word about it. He never did tell me what he did to his victims, but maybe that was because I never asked…

After I finished high school with high honors, I began to start college; I did not talk to anyone, but people attempted to talk to me. I was clueless to why I had not wanted to talk to people, though, since I had not had any blackouts in nearly three years- not one person had gone missing in nearly four. He had not even said a word or made any indication that he was there in nearly three and a half.

I'm twenty-six, now. I work an almost full-time job, I have a day off every Sunday, at a little café a block from my apartment, which houses only me and a cat I found a few weeks earlier, to which I named him Louie. It was my own little secret to why I choice that name. I made rare contact with people, too afraid that they would suddenly disappear, but, otherwise, I lived a totally normal life.

I was beginning to break from my shell and have better conversation with people; I found that I was smiling more and more, going places on the weekend, even though I would have work that Saturday. I was being carefree for once in my life- normal, even. Yes, normal was a good way to put it.

So, that Monday, the beginning of my week that began with a mad hangover from the previous Sunday that I had spent with my friends, I came into work with a rather bearable headache, but I was willing to go through the day normally and, hopefully, happily, if my mood did not get in the way. If… I had known what would happen that day, or who I would meet, rather, I would have gladly had stayed home and whimpered through my hangover.

He came in the café, his hat shadowing his face so I could not see it at first, and sat down at one of the tables in the far corners, where no else sat, beginning to look at the menu intently, his eyes scanning it precisely, as if not to miss anything. I found it strange, at first, that I was very hesitant to approach the table to take his order, or at least get him a drink. But, ultimately, I got up the courage to walk over to his table and wear one of my brightest smiles to hide any of my worry that could possibly show. "Hi, my name is-"

"Kara Smith," he suddenly said, a smile on his face as he looked up at me, his hat off to reveal chestnut colored hair and mint colored eyes.

I looked baffled a moment, and slightly appalled. "How-"

He raised a hand and pointed to the little pin sitting on top my right breast, attached to my server's outfit. "Your name tag, dear," he chuckled.

I laughed nervously, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. "Right, right…" I whispered, feeling small beads of sweat forming on my hairline and my heart pounding in my chest. "Um… What can I get you for today…?" I asked, gulping, and awkwardly pulled out the pads of paper and the simple black pen, my hand- no, my entire body- shaking as I stood there.

He sat there a moment, his hand resting on his chin, his lips puckered out and his brows creased in thought, looking at the menu longer, as if to torture me till he was content with it. Then, he suddenly handed me the menu and stood from the table, flashing me a grin as he said, "Sorry, but I have to go, doll. Seems I have forgotten about some business I need to get back to…" as he walked past me, he stopped, a smirk I barely caught on his lips, "They don't give a fuck about you, like I do, Kara…"

I stood there as he left, petrified- frozen. It was him. He was here, roaming the streets- free. Free to whatever he pleased. Slowly, I sat down at the table he had previous sat in, breathing deeply to stop a panic attack. Something caught my eyes- a napkin. Nervously, I picked it up and read the scribbled writing over and over again till I could recite it until the day I died.

"How much do you love me, Kara?"

I gripped the napkin, tightly, in my hand and closed my eyes. "More than anything," I whispered, "More than anything in the world."