#endohorror

"You'll die in five days."

I was in the bathroom, brushing my teeth.

I was about to leave for work, begin my day, business as usual.

Work, home, groceries, home, work, home, night out, home, work. A routine, for sure, but one I commanded. One I controlled. One in which I wasn't hearing voices, letting me know the moment of my death.

The toothbrush fell off my hand, toothpaste foam splattered everywhere in my sink.

I looked up, turned my head around. Puzzled, surprised, shocked, in my underwear, no shirt, not even a tank top.

"What the fuck? Who said that?!"

I lived alone. Just a twenty-something guy, living on my on, working as a store clerk, barely making rent, but making it I did. I hadn't been on a date for a while, my family in another state. I had friends, sure, a few but I did, and a few people I knew from work, nobody I felt close enough to give'em a spare house key.

The ugly little bathroom at my half-empty studio apartment was empty, barely had a couple towels hanging off of the side of the shower and a tp roll next to the toilet.

On the upper left corner, near the window, I saw a small but dense spider web, the tiny critter walking lazily across it.

I shook my head. It's nothing, I said to myself, nothing to worry about.

"You'll die in four days."

My spoon fell out of my hand, sinking into my salad with a loud clank sound.

My coworker sitting at the couch of the break room lifted his head. I looked back, trying to decide if it was him. He was an older black man, with a deep, booming voice.

"What?" I asked, staring at him, waiting for a reply.

"Nothing brother, just that spoon, is all good." He shrugged and looked back down at his smartphone, probably betting or placing predictions as he usually did.

I narrowed my eyes. I've heard before about blacks doing white voices, speaking like top salesmen and...

"Judging a man by the color of his skin alone."

"WHAT THE FUCK?!?" I stood up. I was staring at the man, and his lips didn't move, they didn't fucking move! I looked around, shaking with fear and anger! What was thing? Where did it came from? How did it hear my thoughts and WHY was it calling me racist???

"Hey man... are you ok?" I looked back at my coworker sitting at the couch, staring at me with a worried look, on some level a genuinely worried look, but certainly not just for my well-being.

"I... am, I'm not sure... Hey, did you hear a voice?"

"A voice? No... no I didn't hear anything... What was it saying?"

"A voice? Did I say a voice?! Heh, no, no, I meant like a voice, did you hear a sound, it seemed like a voice to me, I thought that I heard something I mean, hehehe. Don't, don't worry about it."

"Oh. Ok. So... what did you think you heard that voice saying?"

The man looked at me with his big almond eyes. I was starting to feel my face flaring up. I can't tell him, I can't tell him either of the two things that voice had just told me. I shrugged as naturally and most convincingly as I could and replied.

"I mean, I don't know, that's why I'm asking you, you know? It was too quite to make out... maybe someone is speaking outside the breakroom. Like, you know, gossiping and shit."

I said, I said and made a face and I shrugged again and I exhaled with an air of lite contempt about the whole thing. My salad bowl was overturned, my lunch was ruined, my clothes, my work suit had a few major olive oil and vinegar stains, but it's all good, right? Please don't ask more about how a voice told me that I was about to die and what a horrible, racist person I am. Please let it go.

"Heh, yeah, it must have been bud. Nough to jumpscare you. Bet you thought was that new girl from yo department, ha? You two being giving eachother the rizz eyes."

I entertained the older black mans curiocity with a little chit chat, trying to lie to myself, not admit that I was practically begging for some distraction, something to make me forget of the voice, but I was totally desperate for it. I was craving, practically begging for a tiny little departure from my current train of thought.

It wasn't helping, at the start, but the new girl did look rather fine, so it eventually did.

"You'll die in three days."

I tried. I really tried to forget about what happened yesterday, and the day before.

You see, I've googled it, I googled what voices in the head mean. The first thing I found was that's what people call their thoughts when they think in sentences or whatever, which is clearly not my case.

The second was auditory hallucinations, mostly caused by long-term mental issues... and that's also not it... I would have guessed so earlier... right? I mean, stress does sometimes cause all types of hallucinations. That was a good enough explanation… for now.

The third thing, it was some religious blogpost, about people hearing the voice of god, or at least his spokesperson, Metatron. I... doubt I'm used to pass on the divine will of the Christian god or whatever, but...

I lowered my hand, placed the spoon down on the little dessert plate. In an attempt to, just, ignore my, issue, I had made plans with friends. Coffee place outing, but I ain't much for the bean. I had a dessert.

My mouth filled with bitterness. One of my friends sitting across from me, speaking and speaking, talking about life and relationships and housework and stuff, routine stuff, casual, boring, safe topics.

He didn't act like he heard anything, none of the people I was sitting with did. We were seated in the middle of a crowded space, people all around us yapping and yapping, my ears buzzing, I always get a level of sensory overload in these places, but its worth it, for the socializing.

None of them, not one, acted like they've heard a clear voice, a clear and loud voice, telling any one of us that they were about to die in a couple of days. That shit would cut through real quick. I was starting to ponder the possibility of having an actual mental breakdown... I guess stress could do that to you.

"I'll be right back, gonna order some more." I stood up and smile to the rest, all brave and shit. I made my way to the back of the store, right at the bar.

"Yeah, can I have one, no, two more profiteroles? And some water for the table. Thank you." I said, paid and left, back to my table.

It wasn't long till the waiter arrived with my sweet treats. He took them off the tray and placed them along with the big glass jar full of water on the small coffee table we were all sitting around.

A number of my pals, my buddies, had their gaze turned to my little pity menu, my poor attempt to bury my uneasiness on addiction. I smiled and shrugged. "I guess I'm developing quite the sweet tooth nowadays. Hehe." They chuckled alongside me. They were some nice, non-judgmental company, even if they might have started getting a little worried.

I wolfed down the first plate, the sweet, sugary concoction lingering on the inside of my mouth, tasty, made to perfection. I might have caught their eyes once more, eating like if I was starving, like I hadn't just downed a whole plate of sweet, creamy profiterole already.

Didn't care. Couldn't afford to care if I came off as a fatty or a greedy gremlin boy, eating three plates of dessert in one sitting. I was losing myself in the fix, and that was enough for me, for now. That was enough.

I placed the empty plate out, reached for the third. My pals were still talking, about something and other, I wasn't paying attention anymore.

The utensil sank in the soft putting-esque surface of the desert. I scooped it up, a professional at eating this chocolate masterpiece by now, and lifted my hand to my mouth, leading the spoon right into my gaping maw.

Lips closed around the cold utensil, and I devoured the first bite of the third plate of my second favorite dessert.

"Eating massive amounts of sucrose, way more than your organism requires."

I froze up. Spoon in my mouth, hand holding it. My eyes going wide. Did this thing... could this thing, somehow, some fucking how... taste, the dessert, I was eating?!

My friends yelped and snapped their heads towards me, with wide, surprised eyes, expression of surprise and fear, soon to shift into puzzled and worried ones. My hand was bleeding, holding the remnant of the plate, the broken, jagged edges of the porcelain digging in my hand. I guess I placed the dessert on the metallic coffee table a little too hard, a little too fast.

"A-are you ok?" My childhood crash turned best friend, sitting next to me asked. She reached for my hand, I was shaking, I was trembling and shaking and... and...

"F-fine... I, ammm... I just remembered that... I missed a... a..."

My mind was running a thousand meters as minute. I had to come up with something, something to explain away my reaction, something to, something believable to hide my evident terror with. not easy to do when your whole intellect is devoured by sort of existential questions, questions about your sanity, your mental health, searching through any and all available memories. Do we have a mental case in the family? And... what if this wasn't... mental illness? I mean... that would be better... right? Or worse? Shit, would that mean that I was in ACTUAL danger?!

"... the deadline! Yeah, to pay a bill, and now... I'll have to, pay a fine and... I just got pissed... with myself." I replied, unable to force a smile on my face, but at least covering for my insanely animated being.

"Oh... That's... unfortunate but, what's happened happened. No reason to get so worked up about it now, right buddy?" She smiled at me. Everyone around me was smiling in a very friendly, very understanding and reassuring manner. I nodded. I couldn't master a grimace convincing enough to join them.

"Yeah. I suppose you are right. I'll take care of it... I'll, take care of it."

"You'll die in two days."

“SHUT UP!”

I screamed. I screamed deep into my house. I screamed off the top of my lungs. I screamed as I’ve never screamed before.

Sitting up at my bed. It was morning, no, it was noon. I’ve laid there for hours after I woke up, gathering my strength, my thoughts, my will to go on. To go on knowing, knowing this was a about to happen at some point within the day.

What happened yesterday had really messed me up. I think I’ve went to bed last night around four in the morning? I just couldn’t, couldn’t forget about it anymore. I couldn’t bring myself to calm down.

I’ve forgotten to shower, have dinner, brush my teeth, do laundry, make lunch for the next day, the next workday. I’ve spent all that time in front of a screen, trying my best to distract myself.

Trying, and failing.

The voice was ringing in my ears still. The words burning in my hippocampus, burying themselves deep within my short-term memory. I’m gonna die, what is this? I’m gonna die?! Even if I WAS crazy, how and why would I be calling my very end like that? No, no! This MUST have been something else, SOMEONE else, talking to me, drilling into my life.

I stepped out the bed, shaking, trembling. I had to get up, to start my day. I had to be at work soon, way too soon. And then groceries, and all the other shit I hadn’t done last night.

My nostrils caught a scent a vile scent. I raised my arm. Fuck. I was sweating off all that stress and worry and fear throughout yesterday, wasn’t I? I smell like a trash can, left in the sun. Now I had to take a shower before work. Now I would be REALLY late.

“Your personal hygiene reaching compromising levels for your social standing. Too many fear hormones going off.”

“WHAT THE HELL!? H-how?! Where, how, why, what??? How can you… Can you smell me now?!” I shouted out, my eyes bulging out at this point! This was insane, this WAS insane, this was INSANE!

What was happening was insane, it had no explanation, it was driving me mental. If I wasn’t crazy up until now, I would surely, surely end up… end up doing something extreme.

I gritted my teeth.

No… this is what this was, wasn’t it? Did I just figure it out? Whatever this is… it’s trying to make me… it’s testing my resistances… it’s trying to drive so, unstable, I’ll be willing to self-fulfill its prophecy… Or something…

For the first time in a while, I smirked. I’ve figured it out! This thing can hear me, smell me, fuck, maybe even taste what I eat… but that’s all. It needs ME to do the rest myself. It needs ME to end my own life.

It wasn’t going to happen. It was NOT gonna win!

“You lost! You hear me NOW motherfucker?! I figured it out, you can’t kill me, can’t do it yourself, you want me to do your dirty work. But I won’t, do you hear me?! You, have, lost this bet.” I declared with righteous pride.

“You’ll die tomorrow.”

The edge of my lips curled upwards.

I was reading a magazine, waiting at a doctor’s lobby. An acquaintance of mine, a psychologist with a little something on the side.

“Yeah, yeah, blow it out’f your ass will you?” I whispered to myself, I knew it could hear me somehow. This fucker, whatever it was, it was keeping close. After four days, I knew his tricks, hell, HER tricks maybe. The voice wasn’t female per se, but it wasn’t that deep either.

Either way, whatever it was, its was going away. It might have lost it’s hold on me, I was hardly worried now. I knew its game. I KNEW it’s mo, it’s goal evident from the first moment, its tactics giving away its own limitations.

I wasn’t gonna break so easily though, no. I wasn’t gonna give in to its demands. I scoffed to myself as I heard my name, folding the magazine and placing it on the glass surface of the lobby’s coffee table.

And in any case, just to be sure, I’ve made an appointment to get my hands on a certain death switch for this whole situation, my endgame solution.

I stepped into the office of Dr. Elizabeth [REDUCTED], psychiatrist for the past ten years, a real master of the craft, or so I’ve heard.

“Hey doc, how’s it going?” She smiled back at me, forty-something and still drop-dead gorgeous. That’s how you end up meeting people in useful professions these days, through date apps. And if you treat them well, and if you show them a good time, well, sometimes you end up with a hook-up booty call, and sometimes with much more than that, I suppose.

“Hello there [REDUCTED], how have you been?”

“You know. Just grinding away, living that life. Interesting times to be alive I suppose.”

She nodded. With everything going on in the country, people like her, with much to lose, were having a hard time keeping their opinions to themselves.

“It’s certainly being a, challenging, few months.”

“More like a year.” I said and sat down at the couch.

“Indeed… But we should, start our little meeting. After all, we don’t have much time.” She replied, sitting behind her desk.

“I know, and thank you again for agreeing to see me in such a short notice. I REALLY need a refill, that’s all.” I said more genuinely than ever before, dropping my voice to a whisper at my last sentence.

Elizabeth look at me for a second, like if she was weighing me. I smiled at her with an even more authentic worry in my eyes than I thought I could fake. She wasn’t the greedy type, which meant that it always took a big of convincing.

“Listen, [REDUCTED], I know I’ve been, eager, to help you deal with your stress in the past through, chemical means, but, you seemed like you’ve been dealing with it alright for the past couple of months, even with everything going on… I guess what I’m trying to say is that, I don’t think you really need the pills anymore.”

My heartbeat quickened. It’s not like I was worried, no… no, I wasn’t worried. But, as they say, better safe than sorry.

“That’s, true. And, I’m sorry for not making an appointment earlier, but… I felt really… pressured earlier this week, and I don’t know why, I don’t know where or how. I even tried to deal with those feelings myself, believe me, I tried…” I spoke, counting my words, counting how much and what exactly I was goanna give away.

I didn’t wanna scare her TOO much now, did I? After all, after tomorrow, I wouldn’t have to worry anymore.

“And, I just need, you know, a moderate amount, in case I feel like, I’m losing control, again…”

“Oh… I didn’t know that… did something happened? Did you had an episode throughout those few days or…” She asked with genuine interest.

I lifted my arm, my first instinct to play dumb, to right off play the importance of the situation off.

“Ehh… maybe?” I replied, my right hand with the palm facing down and the wrist twisting lightly in a so so gesture softening my admission. “Nothing really dramatic happened, but, I think the stress is getting on me. My nerves… like, I was out with friends yesterday, and I placed a dish down on some coffee table with such, force, I broke it, and… Like, that’s all, you know? Nothing really happened, not really, but… for better or worse, I thought, being that I have a history of stress… that you could do me a solid, give me some Xanax or, so I can have them in my pocket, use them like a deterrent, or like, a placebo.

She shook her head, taking an understanding expression.

“I see… That’s certainly the responsible way to go about it.” She replied, and turned her gaze to her desk, reaching down.

I heard unlocking and then the unmistakable sound of a draw being drawn out.

“But, listen, if anything, anything more severe happens, I want you to reach out, ok?” She said, placing three pills on the varnished wooden surface of the desk.

“Certainly! Thank you, thank you doctor, you have no idea how reassuring it is to hear that.” I said standing up and walking to the desk.

I pulled a pill bottle off my pocket, opened it up and with my other hand reached for the pills. I was already reaching for the first one.

“So, how have you been? We haven’t really caught up in a while.” I said as I reached for the second.

“You know, working, treating patients… trying to do so correctly in some cases anyway, thanks to the new reality we live in.” She began speaking, her expression changing to one of frustration. I was about to reach for the third pill.

“The last one of your chemical dependency concoctions, so round and useless.”

My fingers held the little round pill. My eyes widened, looking down to the desk as the doctor was talking away in front of me. The voice, it could see me now, it saw the pills, does it see my future too?!

The bell rang. One of the nurses walked up to the door. We were about to get caught, I have no idea how bad this would be but it couldn’t be good, right? I was so lost, so frozen and empty to what just happened inside my head, that I didn’t pay any attention to the doctor’s icy gaze as she repeated for me to take the pill quickly.

I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t even hear her, or at least register her voice… but it did. My fingers gripped the pill on their own, and brought it in the little bottle without my involvement, dropped it inside and then shoved the bottle in my pocket, moving during this whole time with arcing motions so unlike mine. I wanted to scream, I wanted to shout out, to speak, to ask for help, as the door opened.

“Dr [REDUCTED], your next appointment awaits.” Said the nurse.

“Very well, bring them in.” Elizabeth said and stood up. She turned to me with a soft, yet commanding smile. “It was nice seeing you again [REDUCTED]. Take care.

My neck moved on its own, brought my gaze up to hers. She was gonna see me now, see my expression of total and utter panic plastered across my face, I was sure of it. Even if I wasn’t controlling my hand and neck, surely I had still some control over my own b…

“Of course doctor. Lets make a proper appointment soon, ok? Goodbye.” My lips moved on their own, air rushed from my lungs to my larynx and through my vocal cords without my input, words forming unlike the ones I was thinking.

She shook its hand, and then my once legs turned me around and marched me out of the well-lit office.

“Your heart is pounding too fast. I will calm it down.” The voice said, and I felt my pounding heart slowing down, my panicking state slowly, forcefully, ripped from me, as I lost control, as I my sight began dimming and dimming.

I could hear my body taking steps, but not for long, as the sound went away too not long after. My mouth, still wet with excessive saliva thanks to my earlier panicked state, now begun feeling just heavy with liquid, no taste. It was followed closely by my sense of smell, just as I was standing next to the door of the medical office, smelling the scent of the fresh flowers in the vase by the coat hanger for the last time.

All I was now was consciousness, sloshing around in a vessel that bobbed and weaved as my body was walking, walking, walking away.

I could feel a certain numbness, that’s all I could feel anymore anyway, with my stress lowered and my heartbeat normalized forcefully anyway, a certain, blunt numbness… rising, through my limbs, my core.

I felt the faint weight of three small egg-shaped pills jiggling around in a bottle in the pocket of my jacket, and then, nothing.

I have no idea how long I’ve spend like that… locked away from my body, like if I was sleeping, I guess, but I know I wasn’t.

Whatever part of my brain responsible for forming dreams wasn’t online anymore, or at least I didn’t had access to it, even if I did had access to my thoughts and memories.

I remember feeling like I was next to others, myriad of others, billions of others… and yet alone. Locked away, alone, so alone, so, so alone…

.

“And then you wokhe me up… How?”

“That’s not important. Do you not remember anything, anything after visiting Dr [REDUCTED]? It’s been three days since the date of your appointment according to her office logs.”

“No… Thhree days… I guess… wait, is she ok? I diddn’t… IT, diddn’t do anyfhing to her… right?”

“That’s classified info… Yes sir. She’s fine sir, don’t worry about her.”

“O-ok… what thould I be worried about? I hiear… buzzing.”

“Don’t worry about that either. All you need to worry about is remembering everything you can until then and now. Do you remember what happened after that moment?”

“I toldd you no! W-what hiappened? I can see you now, I can hear you, I can smell, I can touch… oh my god… m-my handhs! They are so, bloodthy! A-and fhull of woundths and, and…”

“Relax [REDUCTED], please, try to control yourself. This is very important…”

“OH MY GOD! W-WHAT HAPPENEDTH TO ME?! WHAT DIDH IT DO WITHH MY BAWDYY… Wh… what the fffuck… why can’th I speakh well?”

“It’s not important, you are missing a few teeth, and your larynx has, seen better days, that’s all. Please, focus! Can’t you remember anything?!”

“A few teeff?! Are you theriouth??? And what about all the bloodth? A-and… are these h-holes, bulleth holeths in my chesth?! Wh-where even am I?! Who are you?? WHAT HAPPFENTh?!”

“Mister [REDUCTED], as far as the public knows, you are the main perpetrator of a terrorist attack.”

“W-what?! Y-you are kidnding! You are kidnding, right? You muft be, you muft be! I c-couldn’t possibly d-do somefhing like t…”

“No, you couldn’t, but whatever took your body over, did… I’m also afraid, it wasn’t lying… you are dead. You died last night at the ground zero, by sustaining multiple gunshots on the chest, collapsing most of your vital organs.”

“... H-how I’m still alive? Who are you people?”

“Son… you are not alive. Not anymore. These little critters, they are doing all the heavy lifting right now, but we won’t torment you for much longer. Thank you, for your invaluable input on gathering information about that, voice. Your contribution won’t be forgotten. You can unplug him now.”

“W-what? Are you therious? No, NO!”

“Right away general [REDUCTED]”

“W-wait! Wait wait! I will remember, I swear! I’m sure th-there’s something I forgot, l-let me…”

“Poor fucker…”

“May thought make him whole in the fifth… No time for tears though I’m afraid. Let’s go boys. We got work to do.”

.

End of recording.

Speech-to-text conversion successful. All information included fall under boilerplate generic NDA.