The Voice

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

Fuck, it’s already 5 in the morning? I thought while reaching for the snooze button and failing miserably. I sat up, punched the button, rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I gasped.

It’s 5:30 I don’t remember sleeping through any alarm. Shit! I can’t be late again, my boss is going to tear me a new one! Now I’m running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Brushing my teeth and buttoning my shirt, putting my pants on while trying to tie my shoes and thinking “great its one of these days already.”

I run out the door still fixing my jacket and making sure I have my wallet and phone. I go to get in my car and hear a cellphone going off. It can’t be my phone but it sounds close like it’s under something. I look around and realize it sounds like it’s coming from my front wheel well, weird. I reach under and find a phone resting on my cars tire “Private number” going across the screen. Odd, I’m not answering that. The call stops and a text comes across the screen saying “Don’t just stare at the phone, fucking answer it.”

Okay now that’s sketchy is someone fucking with me? I start looking around at all the buildings and the phone starts ringing again. There’s no one on the block which isn’t unusual, nobodies out at 5am. The phone vibrates, it’s another text.

“One more call. Answer or it’ll be the last noise you ever hear.”

Holy shit. The phone rings once and I answer “Who is this? You think you’re funny huh?”

The reply sounds masked and says “I ask questions you answer. I give commands you listen. Is that clear?”

“Fuck you! Face me like a man!” I yelled.

Click. He hungup. Whoever that was probably thought I’d be scared. Fucking idiot he’s probably hiding in his room…BANG! My car window shattered and the alarm started blaring. My ears are ringing what the fuck was that? I fumbled for my keys unlocked it and jumped in. The phone started ringing.

“Okay what the fuck did you just do? You’re going to pay for my window you prick!” I said trying to sound scared.

That’s strike one. Strike two the bullet hits you in a non fatal but very painful location. I think you see where I’m going with this. So either play along or strikeout. Your choice.” The masked voice said and hungup.

What did I get myself into? Maybe I can drive away there’s no way this guy can follow me. I started the car but couldn’t bring myself to put it in drive. The phone vibrates for another text.

“I hope you made your decision” it says.

The phone rings and I pick it up and say “ Why are you doing this to me?”

“You don’t ask questions now get out of the car.” He said.

I put the car in drive went to give it gas and the battery died.

“I won’t count that as strike two. Now get out of the car before I change my mind.” He said.

This guy rigged my car. Who the hell am I dealing with? I got out of the car slowly.

“Walk two cars back and get in the white Lexus. Do not go through it.” He said.

I did as he said and walked towards the Lexus carefully scanning the neighborhood for him.

“You won’t see me. But keep looking, it’s entertaining.” He said laughing.

I hung up. Fuck him. Just as I looked down to fix my tie I saw a red dot moving up my chest. The phone started ringing. I grabbed from my pocket and answered.

“You know, I like your spunk but if you don’t get in that fucking car I swear to god your body is going to be on the headline of the newspaper.” He yelled and hung up.

As much as I didn’t want to I got into the Lexus. I started it and stared at the phone. What does this guy want me to do? Obviously he’s skilled what can I offer him? The phone rang and I answered frantically.

“I have a job you know? I have parents and a family! Even a nephew I get to see on the weekends” I started to say more but he cut me off.

“Stop talking. I don’t care about your family. Turn on the GPS and say go home. I’ll see you when you get there.” The voice ordered and hung up.

He’ll see me when I get there? If I see this guy in person I’ll show him how I tough I am.

“Go home” I said to the GPS.

The route popped up, only a few miles south that’s not bad. This guy won’t even expect me to hit him as soon as I see him. The more surprising the better, this guy seems professional. That is, if you can be a professional psychopath. I need to know who this guy is and why he picked me. This car was right in front of my apartment so he’s had this all setup for me. Why?

“Your destination is on the right” the GPS broke my train of thought.

“Jacks diner?” I go here at least once a week. Does this guy work here? The phone started ringing but I let it go a couple rings before I answered.

“Look familiar? Get out of the car and go sit on the back deck it’s reserved under your name and order the usual. I’ll see you in a few.” The voice said and hung up.

Why did he tell me not to go through the car earlier? I checked the armrest, nothing, the back seat, nothing, the glovebox and jackpot! This guy must’ve left his silenced pistol when he parked the car. Even better, as soon as I see this guy I’m pulling this on him and he’s bound to have a gun of his own so I can use this and get away with it. Today is starting to look up for me. I tucked the pistol into my suit jacket like they do in the movies and got out of the car.

I walked across the street a lot more calm then I felt. I get to the door and the hostess knew me right away and brought me to the back deck for my “reservation for two.”

“Fancy suit this must be a business meeting. I’m glad to see your doing well! I’ll get you the usual darling.” She said.

Glad I’m doing well? Hah! If only she knew the day I was having. I guess she never saw me with my suit jacket on I normally come in after work with just the button up. I sat the gun on my lap and covered it with a napkin from the table.

I hear my name come from behind me and look back to see an older gentlemen who didn’t strike me as a professional psychopath. Slicked back white hair a nice smile and he seemed like he really knew me when he reached his hand out to shake mine. He sat across from me and just stared and now I can feel something isn’t right.

He leaned forward and said “okay so lets begin shall we?”

He went to reach in his pocket and I grabbed the pistol on my lap and fired three shots from under the table,

He fell off his chair and I ran over and said “Why did you make me do this?! Who are you?”

Then the phone vibrated…A new text…

“So predictable. You might want to leave out the back door and get into the black Mercedes. You handled him for me very well.”

Holy shit. What did I just…Oh my god who did I just shoot? How did he know I’d do that? I ran to the back door, looked back for a split second and ran down the stairs to the alleyway. My hearts racing I cant breathe let alone think straight. I can’t even remember what car he said get in until like clockwork a Mercedes lights flashed signaling it unlocking. I ran to it and jumped in the drivers seat breaking into a sweat.

“What did I just do?” I said panicked to an empty vehicle. The phone started ringing and I picked up immediately.

“Why did you make me kill him? They’re going to know it was me you sick fuck! You’re ruining my life you piece of shit!” I yelled.

Click. He hung up. A text popped up that said “I’m going to call back. Compose yourself.”

The phone started ringing, I answered and said nothing.

“Good you’re calm. I didn’t make you do anything. I never gave you a gun. I said meet me for a drink and you killed the third party. I’m thankful though he was always in my business like it was his job or something. But you made the decision to be a murderer and I like that about you.” He said.

“Fuck you! You knew I was going to do it and when the police catch me you’re going down too!” I yelled.

“Oh yeah they’ll believe a guy called you and said ‘hey kill a nice old man in a restaurant and hide in a Mercedes. You’re dumber than I thought if you think that. GPS say ‘go home’, you know the deal.”

Click.

The police are going to be looking for me any minute and I can explain to them what happened. No. I’ll sound like a mental case trying to explain why I killed that guy in there. But at this rate this guy will get me locked up with no chance of daylight for his amusement. The phone vibrated for a text.

“Tick. Tock. The cops are coming and you have the murder weapon. Get moving.”

Fucking prick. I swear before this day is over I’ll have a gun pointed at his head. I turn on the GPS and said “go home.” It shows a route that looks familiar for some reason. No time to think I can hear sirens so anywhere is better than here.

This time the drives a little longer and every cop car I pass I feel like they’re glaring at me. I almost checked the armrest but I don’t want to know what this psychopath has hiding in the car for me. A text came in on the phone.

“Why don’t you check the glovebox?”

Yeah that’s exactly what you want me to do. This car is probably wired and has cameras.

“You got me with the first car but not this time, I’m not touching anything but the steering wheel.” I said out loud knowing he was listening.

The phone vibrated with another text.

“Well don’t say I didn’t try to help.”

Another trick. This guy knows exactly how to spark my curiosity but it’s not going to work again. I’ll listen to him until I have enough proof that he’s pulling the strings.

“You have arrived at your destination.” The GPS chirped.

My boss’ house? How could he know where he lives? Shit the only reason I know is because the work Christmas party here last year. The phone started ringing I picked up right before it went to voicemail.

“What’s your angle?” I said.

“No questions. Get out of the car and go inside his house. He doesn’t lock his door. The voice said.

“What am I doing here?” I said before he could hang up.

“Before you go inside check the glove box.” He said and hung up abruptly.

No. I’m not checking the glove box fuck you. I slowly walk across the front lawn trying my hardest to seem like I belong. I get to the door and knock. I get a text.

“I don’t recall saying knock. Let yourself in.”

How can he still see me? I walk in and it looks like a tornado came through here. There’s a trail of blood going upstairs. Oh fuck. I ran up the stairs following the blood trail and it led to a gruesome scene. My boss was in a blood stained robe in front of his bed with a gaping hole in his forehead. I hear a text come in but can’t seem to move. This guy killed my boss and trashed the house. Another text comes in.

“Nice place huh. It’s shitty that you work so hard but can’t afford this.” The first text said.

The second said “That gun near the laptop? Look up the serial number.”

What? I look across the room and there’s a bloody gun next to a macbook with google already on the screen. I walk over and the serial number of the gun is written on a piece of paper. I google it and…no that can’t be right. It’s, it’s in my name? How? I don’t have a gun license and I don’t think I ever even fired a gun before today! The phone starts ringing. I wanted to talk first but I couldn’t get any words out.

“Two people in one day? You’re a natural.” He went to keep talking but I cut him off.

“I didn’t kill two people! You killed my boss to make me look even worse! I’ve been following your orders there was no reason for this you’re just a psychotic piece of shit!” I yelled.

He started laughing “You have been following my orders and that’s why we did this. You helped me with the guy at the restaurant and I helped you with this asshole. How about some appreciation?”

“Fuck you I’m done with your games. I don’t care if the police don’t catch you but I’m done with this game. Strikeout. Go ahead shoot me.”

Click.

I stood in the middle of the bedroom waiting. He probably can’t get a shot on me from where he’s at. Then suddenly I hear a loud bang and drop the gun I was holding and fell down. Blood was pouring from my stomach and I passed out while I was looking at it.

When I woke up my stomach felt so tight. How did that not kill me? I unbuttoned my shirt and looked down to see my bullet wound had gauze and medical tape over it. That fucking guy came in here and stopped me from bleeding out. He must be ex military there’s no way he’s this good. I guess he didn’t want to kill me just yet. The phone vibrated. The last thing I wanted to see was a text from this guy.

“Strike two. It was a fatal shot but I stitched it up for you. I called the cops so you might want to leave.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I sighed.

It took a lot of energy to stand up. I limped through the hallway and down the stairs. When I walked outside the Mercedes wasn’t where I left it. The voice must’ve put in the driveway for me. I walked over reluctantly and got in. There was a police scanner in here now. I wonder why I need this. I start the car and tell the GPS to go home and it finds the route. I start driving. My name is being said on the police scanner along with “possible double homicide” I ripped the scanner off the dash and threw it out of the window. This fucker wanted me to listen to what I did all over again. There’s no way I’m getting out of this so I might as well follow this guys directions.

I wonder where I’m going this time. Who did I get framed for this time? I swear if it’s one of my family members I will find this piece of shit. I’m getting close to the destination and I think it’s my house. I looked in my rearview mirror and fuck there’s a cop behind me. Is he following me? The phone starts ringing. I slid it to answer and hit speaker.

“Yes that cops following you. If you kept the police scanner you’d know that.” He said.

“What am I supposed to do if he pulls me over before I get to the place?” I said.

“He will. Call my personal number when he does and I’ll explain it away for you. My number is the only one saved in the contacts.” He said and hung up.

Almost like clockwork the sirens went off and over the loudspeaker the cop yelled to pull over to the side of the road. As I pulled over I went into the contacts and called the name “voice” and my phone started ringing.

“What the…” I whispered reaching for my phone.

The name across the screen on my phone said “Strike three.”

“What did I do!” I yelled.

The cop coming closer with his pistol drawn screamed “sir put both hands out of the window, open the door, get out and back up towards me slowly!”

Tears started streaming down my face. I’m fucked, my only solid proof is the texts on my phone. As I got out of the car I could see my apartment in the distance with a lot of squad cars in front of it. A hard kick flew into the back of my knee and I fell flat on my back. When I opened my eyes the barrel of the cops gun was planted firmly on my brow line. “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you. Now give me a reason you fuckin scumbag!” the cop screamed.

“Please just check the phone on the drivers seat. I was forced to do this! My life was in danger! I whimpered.

The cop didn’t want to hear it and cracked me on the head with his gun and everything went blank.

I remember waking up in the hospital cuffed to the bed. Waking up in and out of consciousness. I remember court and being sworn in. I remember trying to explain what happened and then…I remember them telling me what actually happened. They found the phone the voice called me on. It wasn’t activated and there were no calls or texts. I tried to tell them this guy was ex military he could’ve wiped the phone. They showed me a video of me breaking into my boss’s house at 4am and killing him. Apparently that’s what caused the “psychotic break.” The man in the restaurant was my therapist after I came back from the war. In his personal notes he wrote that I had a personality that got mad when he asked questions and one that wanted to stop the angry one. I didn’t even know I was in the military until they showed me the pictures of my squad. Both guns were in my name and the way the bullet entered my stomach proved I shot myself. The Lexus and Mercedes were bought in my name the day before I “went crazy.” In the glove box of the Mercedes was a note from me that said “if you’re already in this car go to the police. They can help. The voice is only in your head. We can beat this.”

I should’ve checked the glove box. In fifteen hours I managed to ruin my entire life. Now I’m locked in a tiny room with no chance of seeing light again. Remember, sometimes your worst enemy can be yourself.

I wrote this story over 10 years ago while in high-school living with a parent who suffered from a personality disorder. I've always been proud but at the same time ashamed of this story. This will be the first time, hopefully, that anyone will be able to read it.