Voices
Voices? Yeah, I do hear voices.
Plenty of them are echoing in corridors of my mind, but I don't listen to them trying to shift them into a monotonous noise on the background. But if you listen carefully, it's possible to recognize who's talkin'...
"Here's all the information you need to know..."
Some dumb client ordering a kill, one of those stupid bastards who savor the moments of "controlling" me - for some dull reason they think they do it as they give me the task - while in reality they're honored of my breath attention to them and I don' give a shit about them and their business.
"No! oh, please, no..."
Victim. One of thousands of thousands victims. I just twist my nose and tune this bullshit off. Except on voice. It's not saying something - just screaming. Full of desperation and fear, but not that stupid helpless fear all of them radiate when I come close, but fear of the strong being that is defeated.
Silver Fox.
No matter what I say while teasing the runt, but I still dunno what was there about her. I remember I killed her, some part of my mind even tells me I raped her before murdering - but I don't FEEL I did so. I still doubt about whether those memories were implanted or real, perhaps I'll never know. Anyway, they're handy to piss off the runt.
"Sure, Boss..."
Birdie. Li'l sweet Birdie. Whatta I think abo't ya? Who're ya for me? Lover? Co-worker? Slave? Doctor? Whatta I feel abo't ya? Anger? Any reason for it to be? Why did I always pushed ya away and treated ya like a doormat? Wasn't that 'cos I was terrified? Yeah, Creed, be a man, a real man, as you call yourself so proudly - and look in truth's eyes. You were afraid, weren't you? No good in lying in your own mind. You were afraid to loose her forever, and to be left alone again, weren't you?
Now you understand why I do prefer ignoring voices.
"Monster! You're not my son!..."
I growl and almost feel the hot blood feeling my mouth. It always flooded in a chocking stream when he yanked out my teeth. The shiver runs down my spine. The shiver of frustration. If only he could see me now - strong and dangerous, wanted by law all over the world 'cos the whole f*cking world if afraid of me. If only he could see what REAL monster looks like... But he can't. He's dead. Long ago. He's killed. I killed him. And I'll never regret I did.
"Victor? Shhh, baby, that's all right. It's me..."
I wanna run away from this voice. It's odd. It's even worse then father's one. Its soothing hurts more then pliers could ever hurt. It's more terrifying then the darkest basement. It ties tighter then any shackles. Because it's full of love. There's no place for love in this damn world. Not for me. My life is constant fight - and there's no other way for it to be. Fight. Struggle.
That's why this voice is the worst of all.
That's why I run from it for all my life, for my whole twisted damn life.
That's why I ignore voices.
The END.
Voices? Yeah, I do hear voices.
Plenty of them are echoing in corridors of my mind, but I don't listen to them trying to shift them into a monotonous noise on the background. But if you listen carefully, it's possible to recognize who's talkin'...
"Here's all the information you need to know..."
Some dumb client ordering a kill, one of those stupid bastards who savor the moments of "controlling" me - for some dull reason they think they do it as they give me the task - while in reality they're honored of my breath attention to them and I don' give a shit about them and their business.
"No! oh, please, no..."
Victim. One of thousands of thousands victims. I just twist my nose and tune this bullshit off. Except on voice. It's not saying something - just screaming. Full of desperation and fear, but not that stupid helpless fear all of them radiate when I come close, but fear of the strong being that is defeated.
Silver Fox.
No matter what I say while teasing the runt, but I still dunno what was there about her. I remember I killed her, some part of my mind even tells me I raped her before murdering - but I don't FEEL I did so. I still doubt about whether those memories were implanted or real, perhaps I'll never know. Anyway, they're handy to piss off the runt.
"Sure, Boss..."
Birdie. Li'l sweet Birdie. Whatta I think abo't ya? Who're ya for me? Lover? Co-worker? Slave? Doctor? Whatta I feel abo't ya? Anger? Any reason for it to be? Why did I always pushed ya away and treated ya like a doormat? Wasn't that 'cos I was terrified? Yeah, Creed, be a man, a real man, as you call yourself so proudly - and look in truth's eyes. You were afraid, weren't you? No good in lying in your own mind. You were afraid to loose her forever, and to be left alone again, weren't you?
Now you understand why I do prefer ignoring voices.
"Monster! You're not my son!..."
I growl and almost feel the hot blood feeling my mouth. It always flooded in a chocking stream when he yanked out my teeth. The shiver runs down my spine. The shiver of frustration. If only he could see me now - strong and dangerous, wanted by law all over the world 'cos the whole f*cking world if afraid of me. If only he could see what REAL monster looks like... But he can't. He's dead. Long ago. He's killed. I killed him. And I'll never regret I did.
"Victor? Shhh, baby, that's all right. It's me..."
I wanna run away from this voice. It's odd. It's even worse then father's one. Its soothing hurts more then pliers could ever hurt. It's more terrifying then the darkest basement. It ties tighter then any shackles. Because it's full of love. There's no place for love in this damn world. Not for me. My life is constant fight - and there's no other way for it to be. Fight. Struggle.
That's why this voice is the worst of all.
That's why I run from it for all my life, for my whole twisted damn life.
That's why I ignore voices.
The END.