I could hear it again, the whisper in the back of my mind. Come on Dexter, it mocked. The moonlight danced its way through the curtains and into my bedroom. The light always made the darkness come out; shining in the way it does, taking one's heart, one's soul. Let's go Dexter, it came again. The voice was my own, but not; it was the Need taking over. The Need wanting me, and only me, to let it drives, to consume me like the darkness. It waits though, waiting, waiting, and waiting, waiting, and waiting for what it wants; whispering to me its plans, its wicked desires; waiting for my heart to pound, to fill me with a hunger. It wants to make the storm recede or is that me? I'm the one who has to keep the Need fed, happy, healthy, and under control. The Need has to push and shove for its turn to use me; to take over; to consume.
I stared at the moon light that helped the Need to awaken; a full moon, its favorite time. My eyes grew dryer than the Needs charity; it would let nothing go; because the Need always got what it wanted. The hair stood up on my arms as a breeze slithered by the curtains. My breath was steady as I could feel the Need pushing me out of the driver's seat. It made the room turn red, the horrendous, hideous, handsomely, gloriously red. It was the type of red that the moon turned in the fall; like blood was poured over it. Blood…the disgusting, sticky, messy thing. The thing that keeps others alive, the thing that the Need wants, the thing I hate.
The dog next door started barking again, that dumb dog. It always woke mother in the night, her coughing came from the other room just as the barking started. She was sick and needed sleep but that dog…it was going to kill her one day. That dog, that dumb dog, always woke her up, it would kill her, it would kill her, I will kill it; the Need whispered to me. I want it dead and so do you, it will kill her after all…itreasoned with its silver, snake-like tongue. It should die…, I sat up in my bed and looked at the clock; it was three in the morning. The Need forced me to stand, to creep out of my bedroom, to head down stairs, to walk into the backyard.
The dog barked at me from the end of its rope. The Need took a step towards it, and stared down at the dumb dog that always barked; planning, sharing its secrets with me, shrieking in my head at the dog to die. The Need unhooked its collar from the rope; the dog kept barking and barking and barking, until the sound seemed to fill the world to fill the Need's ears and mine; making the world one for the deaf, one for the dead. The Need's chest rose with mine as I took a deep breath, knowing what was going to happen; the Need cutting through the barking, telling me, kill it, kill it, kill it, come on Dexter, kill it, in splendid, pure, pleasure.
The dog stood there still barking, it was a small dog, only up to my knees, the Need grabbed its collar and held it up. The dumb dog's barking turned to chokes and wines. The Need laughed at its pain, taking in every last moment with joy, sucking the life out of the dumb dog in the desire to fill its hunger. The dumb dog stopped squirming; the Need's hunger being filled until the next full moon; it sank away into the depths of my mind laughing, letting me take control again.
I glanced down at the dumb dog, the would-be murderous dog, and dragged it to the backdoor. I dropped its still warm body in front of the door and grabbed a black garbage bag from inside. Mother's coughing had stopped; she could sleep now that the dog was dead; she could get better. I came back outside and stuffed the dumb dog into the garbage bag and put it in the garbage can, where it belonged.
I took a step backward and looked into my parent's bedroom; their lights were still off but my father stood behind that thin glass, watching me. His blue eyes watched me from above; like a hawk watches its prey. I didn't fear him; I had never felt fear before; that's one thing that makes me different, I'm the one who makes others afraid, or at least animals. But he watched me, stern, grim face and all, watching, and waiting, waiting, and waiting, knowing, what was inside me, that I killed the dog, that I'm not normal, or that I feel nothing, waiting, and watching, waiting, and watching, for the Need, my dark passenger to make the next move. But it would wait, laughing at him until he made the next move.