An arsonists cookbook

Chapter 14: Jack Herring

"Tomas, that will be your new name, Jack is a peasants name" the raspy voiced hissed its opinion in Jacks sore ears. His head was pounding as his tired eyes glared at his new image, no hair, except for a few strands is razor missed; a drab brown trench coat, with a black dress shirt forcing its way above the partially closed buttons; black dress pants, still dirty from the train yard and last but not least, black Oxford shoes which still deodorized the smell of burning wood and flesh from the fire. The smell graced his nostrils and he began to like the aromatic smell of wood and combustion.
"You're looking better already" the sound of the voice began to form into a manifestation in the mirror in which Jack, or Tom rather, stood in. It had the build and height of Hux, Jack couldn't believe his eyes. 
"Don't turn around, just close your eyes and take your punishment" the voice said as Jack closed his eyes and felt a strong pain in his wrist. He let out a small squeak due to the pain and as he looked down he saw his own hands tearing open a stitch he had acquired from the crash. As he pulled each stitch out, he imagined each frame of the last few seconds of Hux's life. He wasn't going to regret teaming up with the outside voice, he knew he could help him find the real murderer. It was going to be great once he took all of the credit for the voices superb plan, this was going to be perfect. Perfect.