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A Mind Writhing in Agony

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I remember the first night I heard it. The air, it was brisk, but humid and thick. And I had still been asleep, snuggled within my blankets. It was as early as 7:30pm and I had only been asleep for about an hour. I lived in a, disconnected, secluded area, wooded, damp and usually foggy. The weather was always humid, just warm enough and just cold enough; perfect for a person like myself who preferred the loneliness of the woods. During the night you would hear the wolves howl at the moon, the owls would hoot in song, sometimes seemingly using the howls of the wolves to pitch a tune as well. That night, the voices began. They were subtle at first. I heard what I thought to be whispers in my ear from outside the dream. Yet, I awoke to no one but the wolves and owls outside. I was not one who frightened easily so, I simply brushed the occurrence off and laid my head back down. However, after I had once again fallen asleep, the voice returned. And it didn't whisper, is spoke clearly. Not loudly, but more of a quieted indoor voice. I awoke once more, and again, was not scared, but more frustrated that something clearly wanted to keep me up but I could not for the life of me, discern what it may be.

I do believe in ghosts, and things that normal people do not typically consider a possibility, or deny possibility of simply because there is not enough evidence to suggest its existence. In fact I often conversed with some spirits. Spirits whom had become trapped in our plane of existence, who either were prohibited from returning to the plane beyond the veil, or were being held in this world by something they cannot find. I do not know what lies beyond the veil. Only that, it is said to house some of the worlds darkest, dirtiest, most unruly evils and secrets that even the brightest, genius prodigy of humanity could never hope to place a title upon or describe accurately. I cannot even say what my description of them is, would even be a scratch upon the surface. It houses evils of those calibers, and it also house evils which are not inherently evil but instead have committed evil, but for good reason, and were punished. It also houses spirits who were violently ripped from their previous life in our plane, whom have since become angry, vengeful and spiteful beings, that prey on those who do wrong to innocent people when given the chance to return to our plane.

I do believe in ghosts. And I had first thought that what was waking me was perhaps a harmless spectre, playfully awaking me, or perhaps unknowingly doing so. I called out to it, if it were there, and asked it to please allow me to fall asleep once more. Of course there was no audible answer, but, I never expect an answer, so I simply allowed my words some time to reach, and laid back to my pillow once more.

I once again, fell asleep. This time I was left alone for much longer. I dreamt of a large figure, about 4 feet taller than I, myself being 6'2". It stood before me, a large silhouette, with huge round white eyes, lacking pupils, but they were bloodshot, as if he had been awake for weeks with no intent on sleeping. It did not speak. It only looked down at me, into my eyes. As if it were staring directly into my soul. Into my deepest reaches of my heart. This creature could see my weakest points, my darkest fears. It could show me my worst ideas come to life. 

It did not speak. It just stared. A cold, disgusting, terrifyingly blank stare, that pierced you, and yielded feelings of fear that one could never imagine. This feeling, it was horrifying. It was a feeling as though something was physically within your chest and your stomach. It writhed and clenched like an animal being tormented. It was inconceivable. So much so that even turning one's head was a feat beyond even the highest levels of bravery and comprehension of fear. One could say that you feel as though your surroundings have burned away and all that remains is you, and the creature before you, staring silently into your soul. The silence began to taunt me, as if hungering to hear my burst into tears at just how terrifying this feeling was.

I awoke abruptly the next morning, clothes soaked in sweat, shaking and breathing heavily, heart racing. I stumbled downstairs and into the kitchen to make my coffee. I fancied cuban coffee in particular. But today I just made a simple french vanilla. I filtered it through the coffee filters and into my cup, and sat down at my couch to watch TV, and ponder on my dream. The TV went on for a while; I typically indulged in my younger side watching cartoons and popular teenage shows. Then, like the night before, the voice came back. However it was now no longer alone. There were others. Two from what I could discern. They spoke clearly and in full power, but they sounded distant, as though someone was far away, in another room perhaps, trying to speak to me in a full, audible tone but not realizing they're too far out of range to speak properly.

I paced through the house, and even around the surrounding grounds nearest my house, and found nobody, i found nothing. Nothing, nobody was making the noises, they were just there. They gained volume, babbling, yelling insults at me, overlapping one another to extents. My head light and legs weakening, I stumbled back to my house, feeling my balance crumble beneath my every step. I struggled to the couch, as the voices got louder, and increased in frequency. The feeling of their voices was like hot spikes. Like a burning feeling that grew in strength every time they uttered a phrase. The pain was indescribable. It was like being in a room with thousands of people shouting almost point blank, directly into your ear, at their loudest possible audible levels, pummeling insults and just utterly incomprehensible phrases straight into my skull with unparalleled levels of force. The pressure within my head built to boggling levels and I eventually passed out, after what had seemed like hours.

I woke up the next morning, headache pounding against the walls of my skull still. The voices had finally silenced. But their words stained my sanity. I stumbled upward and then back down onto the couch. I could barely hold myself up. 

This continued, for about an hour, and I could again feel the voices coming back. I began, immediately to scream out, as if my body had given out at this point and I was no longer able to contain my frustration with the voices I could not find the sources of, that pounded their insults and anger instilled words into my brain with such force. They screamed back into my skull. My head felt like it was just ready to split open from the strength. It hurt, the pain was unbelievable.

For days I suffered through constant screaming, and insults, anger, frustration, confusion, I laid upon the floor and just covered my ears for days, screaming out to the air where none could lift me from this pain and agony. Today I still feel the voices.... They're yelling into my skull even at this very moment.

They speak to me about the woman in my dreams. I have seen her. Almost all of my dreams were always about her. She was of unparalleled beauty. She always smiled. She didn't dawn a big smile in my dreams. But it was a smile that you could not help but smile along with. She never spoke. She only smiled and looked into my eyes. I always felt as though I recognized her but I could never figure out who she was. It was frustrating.

Until the voices came.

They spoke to me about her. They told me who she was. We were married. For years, we lived with one another and we spent our time with each other almost constantly. We lived in each other's embrace. Exchanging kisses, giving to each other our secrets to keep. Bedded we would intertwine, the feelings of each other's skin against one another, my lips to her skin and trailing down her body. It was bliss to remember after so long. But the voices, they say she died. She suffered from cancer, she had for a long time, it slowly began to kill her, painfully. She suffered in agony in a hospital bed, me at her side, desperately trying to find a way to ease her pain, as she lay crying, hoping for something to stop the pain. When she had finally passed I fell deep into a depression. I would wager a guess that is why I live alone, as I had even forgotten the reason for that as well.

As I sobbed, the pain of their voices pounding in my head and the pain of remembrance built within me and I could feel it getting stronger. My heart ached, my mind throbbing in unison. My eyes flooded tears like I had not cried before in my life. The voices say they are angry with me because they are remnants of her. And they're angry because I allowed her to die, because I did not save her. They scream their hatred into my skull, louder, piercing my eardrums in contempt. My heart is slowly beginning to break as I sob into my hands. I blame myself for her death. It's all my fault, she didn't deserve to die, but I let her die. There must have been something I could have done.

That was about a week ago.... I think.... I cannot recall anymore. I have lost track of time. I just, sit alone in the basement, with the voices in my head, at all... times.... seeing figures in the darkness, leering at me. They're disgusted with me. What a failure of a husband I was to let her die. How could I... How could I.....

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