There's a hiking trail in the woods, not many people use it in large groups so it's become a prime hunting spot to clear the voices.
One day, I was just taking my usual stroll when the voices started getting louder and less jumbled. To the right. 5 feet downhill. A boy. 2 feet to the left, off the trail. Kill him. Hurt him.
Of course, still needing to fulfill my end of the deal from the cafe burning, followed their directions and of course, a young boy with antlers and deer ears was sat under a tree silently weaving a flower crown. He seemed so distracted by his idle task. With one swift movement he was pinned to the tree, the sound of his half-finished crown gently hitting the ground. Meeting his brown eyes seizing with impotent anger and fear. We stood like this for what may have felt like hours to him. Tear off an antler and leave him. Stab him. Let him live. Don't give him a coup de grâce, leave him down and suffering like a shot deer. I had his throat pinned under my left arm to the tree so flipping my knife out of my right pocket was an easy task. Feeling the blade sink under his skin and into his stomach felt freeing, still staring him in the eyes I saw them well up with terror, a scream building up. I kneed him in the chest. Using both hands to tear off an antler and the choked sobs and screams ensued. He folded to his knees, his hands struggling to decide between whether they should grab the knife embedded in his stomach or reach for his freshly missing antler. Once again, the usual up-curve hit the corner of my lips and I heard myself laughing in chorus with the voices as I watched him wail in fear and desperation on the ground. Soon enough, I was the only one laughing, they had gone silent. So I made my way back up the hill so I could be in complete silence again, his echoed cries growing distant and the peace of silence feeling so fresh.
