I'm just gonna try this out...not sure if it's gonna work, but...yeah.

I'm not very experienced in writing, so correct me and criticise anything I've done wrong :]

Also, I haven't actually written a plan or any other chapters for this fic (yet...) so I might just leave it as a one-shot if you guys don't want any more.

I don't own anything. At all. Don't sue me.

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'Hello?'

Silence. But there was a voice. I could hear it, it called out my name, it woke me in the dead of the night. The shrieking filled my dreams, and continued calling as I woke. I had stumbled out of my room, following the voice, following my name, fear pulsing through me, but it didn't hold me back. I had dreamt of that voice for weeks, months. Yet, every time I woke, I heard nothing but silence.

Tonight, however, the calling hadn't stopped when I woke. It grew, louder than it had been in my dreams, louder than I had ever heard it. I was partially surprised the others hadn't been woken by it, but that thought easily slipped my mind as I realized how close I was to discovering where the voice had came from. The voices that had been tormenting me for so long, disrupting my life.

I followed the voice as it lead me down the stairs, past the rooms where my band mates were sleeping peacefully, unaware of my troubles. I had told them once, when the voices first came to me, but they just laughed. They thought I was joking, that I was just trying to freak them out. They never realized how wrong they were. I never mentioned it after that, for fear of them assuming I'd gone mad.

I've googled it...apparently hearing voices is a sign of schizophrenia. I know I'm not schizophrenic. The voices aren't just my imagination...I know they're real. They won't stop. I haven't had one good nights sleep since they started, and I'm sure the others have noticed. They always give me worried looks, suspicious glances. I usually pretend I'm sick. They believe me most of the time, but other times I can tell they know there's something much more serious going on. But they never ask. Maybe they don't care enough to ask, or maybe they're scared of my response. Either way, It's probably easier for me if they don't.

The voice lead me all the way to the basement. That's when it stopped. At the top of the stairway leading deeper into the dark room, I called out, but there was no response. I tried to turn the light on, but after a small spark, it shut off again. Warily, I took a step down the stair, my paranoid mind working overtime. The thoughts running through my head made me shake with anxiety. I was approaching the bottom of the stairs when I heard another noise. It was a low grunt, so quiet that, had there been any noise other than my rapid breathing, I wouldn't have heard it. I froze instantly, scanning the dark room with my eyes, though to no avail. It was pitch black, I couldn't see a thing.

Taking a shaky breathe, I attempted to swallow my fear.

'Hello?' I called quietly, barely above a whisper.

I heard a deep chuckle, and low breathing, slowly getting nearer.

My heartbeat increased rapidly as I retreated to the step above me and turned, preparing to run as fast as I could, out of the basement and back to the safety of the light. But, just as I reached it, the door slammed shut in my face.

'Not leaving already, are you?' The voice asked, in an amused, yet still low tone.

I heard the step below me creek, and felt something incredibly strong grip my arm.

'It's good to finally be able to touch you, Tom.'

My breathing started to become shallow as the air seemed to be sucked from my lungs, and with my last breathe, I let out a terrified scream.