Habiti by Bloodyspaghetti
Almost a whole year ago, my wife and unborn child were killed in a car crash. We were on our way home from the ultrasound session at my wife’s doctor when a car filled with teenagers appeared out of nowhere heading our way, straight at us. You can imagine what happened next, a failed attempt on my behalf to stir away, a large crash, a shit ton of pain and my wife’s body crushed between her seat and what used to be the muzzle of our Chevy. Her carotid was sliced open by a piece of glass, and she had a bunch of other shards stuck in her face and chest. I was the far luckier one, concussed, with two broken legs and some other minor injuries, broken and battered but alive. Right now, I consider her the lucky one; she doesn’t have to live through this hell. Oh and the teenagers, well all of them came out pretty much unscattered from the whole ordeal.
That's the beauty of hit and runs, they assholes don't always get caught.
Physically, I was healed up in a matter of a few short months, mentally, I doubt I am going to ever get healthy, not that I was a hundred percent mentally ever since childhood, due to Gods so called will. As if one traumatic experience was not enough, I had to get covered in gallons of blood of my dying wife, that lead to Haemophobia, I cannot stand the sight of blood, oh and the depression, that one is lovely! I wonder how long my liver will be able to hang on due to my excessive self-medication. I really pray it won’t last much longer. I am so tired…
Soon after I was physically fine, the dreams started. Dreams about my deceased wife and unborn child, you know, those vanilla dreams where nothing happens, these dreams were the scariest I’ve ever experienced. I wasn’t dreaming about my wife, I was dreaming about something that was wearing my wife’s appearance. It kept telling about how it had gone inside my dreams and that we needed each other, this thing would help me get justice and I would help it relive its previous life, the life of a glorious righteous general or something. If that’s not creepy enough, my part in this so called partnership had to be that of a Chemo-suit for this thing, it’d wear me and execute my justice upon those who had wronged me. I refused of course, dismissing these dreams as products of my traumatized psyche. Each night I would be visited in my dreams by what looked like my wife, and each night I’d refuse, after a few peaceful attempts of this thing to convince me, it began being more demanding, more threatening, this would also be reflected on its appearance. In the first few dreams I had about this it would appear to look exactly like my wife, carrying a baby, soon after, it’s appearance changed into that of a corpse, slowly decaying, appearing more and more decimated by the passage of time with each dream until it was nothing but a shriveled up mass of skin and bone. It became lacking in almost all humanity, eyeless, devoid of most of its hair and teeth, cracking and whistling with each movement it made, riddled with holes and maggots. It was nothing but a dark brown mass of rot and decay.
This thing, it kept screaming things at me, violently imploring me to let it use my body. It was telling me of how it was waging war on forces I can’t even imagine, speaking of how it had to murder violently its own kind to ensure my survival. It sounded like a piece of my mind developed a personality of its own and went bat-shit crazy all over me. It wouldn’t even let me sleep properly, after each night my dreams were visited by this thing, I felt as if I had been run over by a Semi waking up.
After a few weeks of almost no normal sleep at all, when my head felt like the inside of a cathedral bell, I’ve decided to give in to the wishes of my dream invader, what’s the worst that could happen I reasoned, it was nothing but a fragment of my own imagination, and so I did. Three months ago, this wretched, hollow, soulless piece of humanoid rot approached me again in my dream, and I accepted its offer. I agreed to let this thing use my body to execute its justice on the ones who had wronged me.
Once I did, a bright light filled the space that hosted my dreams, it was warm and fuzzy, it was the best feeling I had felt in a while. A few moments later I found myself standing, fully dressed, in front of house I had never seen before. I tried moving my body, but I couldn’t, I was about to panic and then a voice, this young man’s voice spoke to me, inside my head, it told me not to worry and just relax. Something about it was soothing and calming. It made me feel reassured that everything was going to be all right. I guess I could say I just set back and enjoyed the upcoming show, inside my own head, I don’t even know how to explain this situation, it was like watching a movie, or dreaming, while being awake. Anyway, that does not matter; my body started walking towards this house and knocked on the door. A woman opened the door and my body began talking, telling her of how it needed to use a phone because my car was stuck in that neighborhood. As this was going on outside of my head, inside my head, the voice kept telling that everything was alright and that it would be gone as soon as I justice would be served.
The next thing I knew, my hand was on the shoulder of this woman, before she could even react, my body tore off her left arm and a piece of her torso, blood gushed from the new opening in the woman’s body and she came crushing to the ground without uttering a sound. I did not feel disgusted or terrified by the sight, somehow, I felt good, I felt delighted.
A man came running from inside the house, he froze at the sight of what I assume to be his dismembered wife and my hand grabbed him by the head. A few moments later, he began screaming and trying to break free from my arms hold, to no avail, after a few moments his head turned into a mash of brains, blood and bone within my arm. He stopped moving and my body tossed him aside. At this point, a young man was staring at my body, frozen, shaken with fear; I could feel the smile forming on my face, my body walked confidently towards the youngster who was tearing up like a little girl whose cherry just was popped. I felt my fist plunge itself into his stomach, I’ll spare the details of what happened next, I’ll just note that this young man was beaten so badly he wouldn’t be recognized if he was found anywhere outside of his home.
From there on, my body went out into this town, I didn’t quite catch its name, after some strolling, my body came across a bunch of teenagers playing poker outside some bar. My body tapped on one of their backs and the voice inside my head told to watch carefully as something nice was about to happen. The teenager turned around to face my body and my mouth uttered that it was hot that day. Not a second had passed and the teenager grasped at his shirt, began crying that his chest is on fire, he fell to his knees, and cried with agony as people began gathering around him, not too long after he began coughing up blood, it came out with vapor. He was dead soon enough, in a pool of his own hot blood. I found out later his lungs had been charred to bits of coal.
The last person to run up to this teenager was his girlfriend, a lovely girl, about his age, she dropped to her knees, clutched his head, and hugged it tightly, then she started crying, her crying turned into screaming once she realized blood was pouring out of her gash. Not your typical menstrual bleeding, she was bleeding out, every last drop of her blood eventually left her body and she was left nothing but pale dried up mess or at least that’s how they described her condition in the news.
After killing these two, my body headed out to the main road of that town and stood at its edge, waiting for someone to arrive, all the while I was having a conversation with this unknown voice, which I assume belongs to the entity in my dreams, inside my head. Sometime later a Peugeot had passed us, it was a small black car, nothing fancy, and my body waved its hand at it. The car stopped and the driver left it, he seemed worried as he began walking towards the traffic, I heard him cry out for help, calling out that he doesn’t know what was going on with him and that his body was moving on its own. He was hit by a car, but then somehow got back up to his feet, whaling in pain, and went up again towards the oncoming traffic. He kept doing that until there was nothing but blood and pulp smeared all over the road and the cars of the horrified drivers. I had never seen this much blood before.
At this point, I had begun feeling uncomfortable with the situation and told the voice that I was having enough of our little charade; it replied that all that was left for it to do was take me home. So it was, in a second flesh of light that night, I was back home, in my bedroom, wearing my pajama, in control of my body once more. I wasn’t tired but seeing as how the time was three AM I forced myself into bed and tried to get some sleep, oh that was a stupid idea on my behalf, because I kept dreaming that I am the people who were killed by my own hands, during their last moments. Dying gruesomely in your own dreams is one hack of a way to drain you. I’ve never slept worse.
I kept dreaming about these things, over and over for the next two and a half months. Until two weeks ago, I finally got the chance to dream about my house again, unsuspecting I was enjoying my quiet dream, until a young man with a familiar voice appeared at the entrance of my bedroom. He began reminding me of my uncles divine will, my uncle is a good friend of a local pastor. The two of them executed the so-called will of Christ in unholy purification rites so to speak upon my flash, I sank into the traumatic memories of my childhood abuse and rage, pure and utter rage, began filling me up. This time, I didn’t really object to letting the entity use my body, these fucking bastards had to go, they’ve been walking around freely for decades, that was the time to put an end to their reign of terror, one that ruined the lives of so many local children.
A flesh of light, I stand in front of the chapel in which my life was ruined so many years ago, pure disdain and burning anger pulsate through my consciousness. The chapel doors slam open. They’re in the middle of another so called purification ritual. I shout to the voice in my head to kill, kill, kill. The pastor notices my body and utters something, but my body shushes him with my finger, his voice is gone, he panics.
My body yanks out a long metal bar from one of the chapel doors, and goes towards my buck naked shaking piece of shit of an uncle, he tries to run, but is frozen in his place by the entity inhabiting my body. He weeps and begs for mercy as my arm bends his back forward, the second hand slowly shoving the metal bar into his anal cavity, he is sodomized by my hands, he screams, I black out, but not before I hear the words, “Father wills it, pal!” come out of my mouth.
The moment I come to, I was inside the chapel, around me the mutilated bodies of the pastor, my uncle and a few innocent children were crucified on makeshift crossed constructed from various metal bits. My Haemophobia kicked in right away, I began to feel dizzy and disgusted with the blood around me, my pulse skyrocketed and I began shaking nervously, I ran out of course, making sure nobody had seen me leave; the area was unusually quiet for a Monday afternoon. I guess this entity, which I now believe is the Devil, made sure I would get out safely from the crime zone.
I don’t having any odd dreams or nightmares, I don’t hear any voices in my head anymore, but during the last couple of weeks, there had been mornings that I woke up fully dressed even though I had gone to sleep in my pajama. Moreover, every morning I found myself fully dressed in bed, a person from my area would be declared missing. I suppose that thing is still inside me and uses my body whenever it feels like so. I used to know an occultist, key word is used, in past tense; I contacted him a couple of days ago, that night he was found without his skin. The news report said it’s like someone had pulled his skin off his body in one piece.
I’ve bought a gun, I guess my only way out of this mess is to head in the direction of the creator I hadn’t even believed in until recently. This is a warning to anyone who might be hearing something or someone in their head – no matter how torturous the voices get, don’t give into them, or you’ll end up at the mercy of mad blood thirsty Hell-rat that inhabits my body right now.