Bag of Apples

An old story i wrote back in high school when it was my sole purpose to shock people. Excuse the dust, it hasn’t been read in a while.

Bag of Apples
        To my left, to my right, behind me—all around! There are voices. Unrelenting voices. They keep talking to me, commanding me to do things I don’t want to. It hurts to listen, impossible not to. But… maybe I should just…give in and…obey…kill…
        No! Stop. That sort of thinking will only get you hurt. I know perfectly well you have no desire to kill. Go lie down, relax, think of nice, happy thoughts.
        I’ll show you happy thoughts. A human skull on a chain, now that’s nice. Quick to your kitchen; get the biggest knife you can find. Now!
        Wait! Don’t listen to him. Put down that knife. There now. Doesn’t that feel better? If only you’d just sit down and rest. Put yourself at ease. When you listen to me, nothing bad can happen. Nothing bad at all. Ah, don’t you feel better?
        NO! NO! NO! Quit. Just quit talking to me. Please. Just get out—huh? What’s that noise? Oh no! They’re coming to get me. Stand back, I have a knife. Oh, it’s just Ms. Woodrow’s cat. How’d you get in here? Mmm… cat. So hungry. Here kitty kitty kitty.
        Yes, yes. Now that’s the spirit. Pick up your knife. Kill that little walking hairball.
        Don’t you do it! Take a deep breath. Release. There you go. Now go lock your door and don’t look when you throw the key. Yes. Just like that. Go sit down and I guarantee you’ll feel a lot better.
        Will you quit listening to him! You were going to attack that cat. You still have a chance. Remember how hungry you are? Think for a minute… this is the only thing you are going to get to eat… and KILL… because you had to listen to Mr. Peaceful. Why? Why’d you throw the door key? Why did you listen to him!
        You quit talking to him. You know you don’t want to kill anything. Especially not Ms. Woodrow’s poor, defenseless cat. Just listen to me and I’ll show you peace.
        I’LL SHOW YOU PEACE…PIECES I MEAN. Pick up that knife, damn-it. Mmmm… cat… doesn’t that sound good right now?
        Yeah. Why, yes it does. I…I am hungry after all. Cat does sound better thank week-old leftovers. Yeah, yeah. Cat. Here kitty. Come here and let me cut off you pretty head and throw it in a skillet.
        Good. Just move slowly toward it so it won’t run away.
        What are you doing? Why are you doing this?
        Damn you. Shut-up and let me control him!
        I’m almost there. Just jump on him like—Oof!
        You missed! How stupid can you get?
        I-I… I’m sorry.
        And you should be.
        Don’t you talk to him like that.
        Yes, yes. You’re right. What ever is the matter with me. You cunt! It’s only a cat and you missed. And now, because of your goof up, it ran away. Quickly, find that key! We’re going to find us a larger target—one not so hard to miss.
        Don’t tell him that!
        Key, key. I have to find that key.
        Why are you listening?
        Why are you trying to fight the inevitable? Just admit your sorry ass ways of pointless inner peace aren’t what he’s looking for. He likes me more. You are just not cut out for this sort of thing. Ha! I win. How does it feel to be a loser?
        Key, key. Found it.
        Don’t just stand there-
        Yes! Just stand there. Throw it away again.
        Go now and unlock your door, you fool! Good. Now step outside. See that at the end of the hall?
        Oh no!
        Heh heh. Oh yes. You see it over there? That axe next to the emergency fire hose. Go break the glass and get that nice, shiny, good-for-killing axe.
<span style="FONT-SIZE: 12pt”>        Oww. My knuckles.
        Pain is simply your weakness leaving the body. Did you feel the energy of the glass breaking under your knuckles? It felt good didn’t it? Well, it feels even greater when you kill.
        My knuckles hurt. Bleeding.
        Don’t worry about that. The pain never lasts. Besides, we’re going to use the axe to kill someone, not your poor, bleeding knuckles. Now then, what’s better than Ms. Woodrow’s cat than… hmm…? I know, Ms. Woodrow herself. I am sure pleasure will result from ridding the world of that hideous, decrepit soul. Yes, we’re going to kill her.
        No! No! That poor widow.
        Yes. Look at it like this: being dead, she can’t feel any pain from her uneventful life. You’re doing her, as well as the rest of the world, a favor. Now ease open her door.
        Now what?
        Are you that stupid? Walk in and look for her.
        No. Don’t look for her. You know you don’t want to kill her. Don’t you remember that Ms. Woodrow is the one that saved you from that fire when you were just a baby? Come on. Just put the axe down and go back in your apartment. Are you even listening to anything I am saying?
        Oh, would you just look at this. She is sleeping so peacefully. It makes you almost not want to kill her. ALMOST. But we’re going to put her in another kind of deep sleep. Now raise the axe above your head. SLAM IT DOWN ON HER! Yes. See how it cracked through her rib cage? Easier than killing a cat, don’t you agree? Do you still remember how hungry you are?
        Oh God! I don’t believe you’re eating it.
        Mmm… it’s tasty, huh boy?
        Wake up! Do you realize what you just did? She’s dead. You killed her…and then…ugh; I’m going to be sick. If you would have just listened to me. To me…
        Oh no. I did. I actually killed her. Wh-wh-why? I-I-
        Yes, you killed her. Didn’t it feel—
        SHUT-UP! QUIT TALKING TO—
        No, you shut-up, bitch. You are in no position to command me. You are the one that listens to me now. Cunt. Aww, did I make you cry? Don’t cry you little baby.
        Wh-wh-why-why did you make m-me do th-th-that?
        Some might blame the meds. But you’ve felt me growing for a long time, haven’t you. Because I’m as crazy as you are depressed, what you want to be but never will. And I am smarter than your dumb ass. I have waited a long time to drive you mad—to the point where I could command you and do all that I wanted to do.
        Hey? Where’d you get that gun?
        Yes, what are you—
        No! Turn it away from us!
        DON’T!!