The Voice

By Joseph Logsdon

Where was that strange voice inside her head coming from? It spoke to her, softly telling her to do evil things. Regardless of how hard she tried, she couldn't get the voice out of her head. Verna sighed, hesitantly reaching for the phone. Her husband, like always, was at work, leaving her completely abandoned. She phoned her neighbor, Lisa, who was also her best friend. The phone rang not once, not twice, but three times. Finally, it was answered, relieving Verna of her incurable anxiety.

"Hello," Lisa stated.

"Lisa, I need to talk to you," she stuttered.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"Right, wrong, what difference does it make? I'm stuck at home, sick and bedridden, plagued with exhaustion, not to mention crazy. It's maddening, sitting here and waiting for Mike to get home. He's always late, never early," she cried.

"Honey, are you okay?"

"Haven't you been listening? Where does he go, anyway? Oh, sure, he claims he goes to work, more likely he's fucking some young girl. Now that I think about it, it wouldn't be the first time," Verna stated.

"You mean, he's cheated on you?"

"All men cheat at some point, or didn't you know that? Lisa, what really bothers me, is the fact that he doesn't love me. It's driving me insane, just knowing that he doesn't care. There's this voice in my head, commanding me to kill, and not just anyone, mind you," she whimpered.

"Is it telling you to kill Mike?"

"It's telling me to kill you," she answered.

"Why would you want to kill me?"

"That's why I called you, to warn you of what could happen. I'm not well, haven't been for many years. On top of that, my marriage has made things worse. Be careful, for your own sake," she pleaded.

"Honestly, Verna, what did you eat? You could never harm a fly, voice or no voice. Now, get some rest, and I'll call you in the morning," she stated.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"Well, I could call the police, tell them what you told me. They'd say you were crazy, then they'd put you away, without blinking twice. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

"Have it your way, ignore what I'm saying," Verna exclaimed, hanging up the phone.

Verna cried, having lost all hope. She got out of the bed, painfully rising to her feet. She walked to the bathroom, holding the wall for balance. The voice spoke to her again, this time very strongly.

"Kill her," the voice demanded.

Verna turned towards the door, unable to resist the whispering. She left the house, holding a knife in her hand. The night air chilled her face, igniting her dangerous spirit. She roamed across the lawn, the lust for murder in her eyes. Lisa was getting undressed in the window, looking defenseless and vulnerable. The door was unlocked, making it all the more easy. Verna walked through the kitchen, carefully watching her every step. The knife was like a disease, slow and painful. The voice told her to kill, and kill she would.

Lisa was brushing her hair, ignorant of what was going to happen. She heard a noise, swiftly followed by another noise. Lisa turned her head, only to learn that her bookcase had collapsed. She sighed, relieved and reassured. She opened the door, peering around the corner. She saw nothing, so she closed the door, certain that no one was in her house. She got into bed, quickly turning out the light. She put her head against the pillow, thinking pleasant thoughts. Little did she know, those thoughts were about to get ugly.

Just as Lisa was about to fall asleep, she heard footsteps on the other side of the door. She rose out of bed, petrified and out of breath. The door was more than an entrance, it was the gateway to death.

"Who's there?"

There was no response, just empty silence. Slowly but surely, the door started to open. Lisa froze, frantically trying to keep herself together. Verna slowly entered the room, unfazed by what she was seeing. Lisa was crying, regretful of her decision to not call the police. Verna walked towards the bed, cold and unfeeling.

"I beg you, don't hurt me," Lisa pleaded.

"Hurt you? Why would I hurt you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said yourself, I couldn't harm a fly," Verna laughed.

Verna raised the knife, murder in her eyes. Lisa screamed, horrified by what was happening. Before Verna could use the knife, a hand grabbed her arm. Her husband, Mike, was standing behind her. He grabbed the knife, quickly putting it in his pocket.

"Verna, what were you doing?"

"I don't know, I honestly don't know," she answered.

By the time the police arrived, Verna had had a complete nervous breakdown. She was taken to a nearby hospital, where she would stay until further notice. After the police had gone, Mike comforted Lisa, concerned about her welfare. The bedroom was warm, igniting their secret lust.

"It worked, it actually worked," Lisa laughed, kissing Mike.

"You're telling me, I never thought we'd get away with it," Mike laughed.

"And to think, we did all of it for love. You provided the voice, I provided the scream," she laughed.

"Given her state of mind, it was only a matter of time before she went crazy, all I did was rush the process," Mike exclaimed.

"You're a bad boy, you know that?"

"We're both bad, not that there's anything wrong with that," he laughed.

The End