Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-30692970-20170407192836

Alright so I wanted to try something, and it turned out like this. I tried to go for a style like Edgar Allan Poe's The Tell-Tale Heart, but wanted to try a different sort of illness. I know mental illness is commonplace here, but I still wanted to give it a try. So here it is. Sorry if it seems like a TL;DR thing, I can try to trim it if need be. Which it'll probably need. -- Ten years.

Ten years have I been almost alone in this body, but not in this mind. No, no… It may not seem like it, but someone else lives up here, you know.

But for now… Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Tyler Waller. I am 30 years old, and have a wife and four year old daughter. My wife knows about him… my more dangerous side.

And who is he? He calls himself Watcher, or He Who Watches. He is very attentive to even the smallest detail, and uses this to satisfy his desires. We once shared them when I allowed myself to be poisoned by him, but I am poisoned no longer, I assure you.

But I share a few of his qualities. I, too, am highly attentive to detail. Sometimes it freaks out my co-workers just how much I pay attention to the smallest of things. A misplaced pen here, a missing staple there, one piece of hair is longer than the rest. Small things. Useless things. At least to me.

It’s different with Watcher. He wants, no… he needs to know every last detail about someone. Their hair length, color, eating habits, sleeping habits, who they talk with, what they talk about, age, height, bedroom style, house style, eye color, what sort of clothes they wear, where they work, where they go to school… Everything. And why must he know this? To fulfill his twisted desires of course.

What are his desires? He wants things to die. He wants blood on his hands, he wants to instill fear into the hearts of his victims, he wants to disembowel anyone and everyone he sees… And I, for a while, let him.

I first started hearing his whispering at age 12, where I would grab small animals and mutilate them. You know, mice, squirrels, rabbits, birds, things like that. First I would study them, to see where it would be best to catch them. Then I’d bait them with what they ate most, and capture them. Then bring them either into the garage or the basement or my room, and rip them apart. It felt like an odd thrill, like when a child disobeys their parents and goes out at night or somthing. But soon… he convinced me to try something bigger.

She was a college girl, as I lived in a college town. Nice, beautiful, and social. She loved to party, and she was only 23. She lived alone in an apartment, had a boyfriend who would come over either alone or with his friends to see her, watch TV, you know, normal stuff. She would go to bed at around midnight waking up at 6 am and getting ready for school. On weekends she stayed up until about 3, and woke up at 1. No one really came around on weekends- she usually went out herself, coming back as a drunk mess.

Her screams of terror… it sounded like music to my ears. I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins, as Watcher was the one to take over. I merely watched as he did his work, fascinated, yet inwardly disgusted. I knew this was wrong, but it made me feel amazing. Her blood was a beautiful shade of red… and the way it spilled from her… dear God… I need to…

No, no… Compose yourself… You are in control. Must’ve forgotten to take my medication… I’ll have to see the good doctor about that later. I take medication to help stifle him and his poisonous desires. Sometimes I’ll have fits where he tries to seize control. Most of the time it’s at night, which is when he wanted to kill. But not until he knew everything. Sometimes I nearly turned on my wife… I never forgive myself for those moments.

Anyway, from the time of that first kill, when I was fifteen, until I was about 20, I was hooked. I claimed many victims- around 30, I think. Sure, may not seem like a lot, but with Watcher, it is. That’s around 6 people a year- about two months observing each. No one ever found out, however, until I decided that I had enough. My disgust with the acts had become more and more apparent. And he knew it.

He tried to stop me. But I turned myself in, confessing to the crimes, while he was constantly intruding, trying to stop me. They arrested me and placed me in a holding cell, where we fought over dominance and over what I had done. I’m not like him, and I’ll say this 1,000 times over- I am not like him!

When my trial arrived, I was put into an Asylum, pardoned under Reason of Insanity. There I was diagnosed with Split Personality disorder, and I met my doctor, Dr. Peterson. He’s a very nice man. We became friends quickly. I explained what was going on, and he helped me through it. A year later, I was back on the streets, met my wife at 22, told her everything on our one-year anniversary, and four years ago, she had little Mary.

But as of late, my fits have been growing more constant… I… I can sometimes feel him taking control… My thoughts start to blur, my vision narrows… And Watcher is in control. And now, it has gotten to the point where I was a danger to my wife and child.

I… I wanted to see her blood… I needed… I needed…

No… No… what he did was… wrong. His bloodlust is starting to infect me again… this medicine isn’t working anymore… I need help…

No… I need blood.

I wanted blood.

She was right there, sleeping beside me.

I could hear her breathing.

So peaceful… so unaware of what I was capable of…

This medicine isn’t working on me anymore. I stopped taking it a week ago…

I struck her down, and she shrieked. Then the girl came in, and I turned on her…

I didn’t want to… he was making me do it…

Their blood started to flow. I couldn’t help myself. I needed more.

I screamed and tried to get myself to stop, but my body wouldn’t listen, until the police arrived…

Yes… The dreadful police…

They helped me regain control… I told them I wanted to be here.

A foolish error, I may add. Very foolish. Now we’re stuck.

But that’s…

… not where my tale ends. No, I am here now… he is rotting away. I had been whispering to him… He stopped taking the medicine months ago.

No, no… Come on, Tyler…

… There is no one for you now. Let me be free again, and we can live as we wish. Your wife is filing for divorce, your child is scared of you. You remember their visit last week. They were so hesitant with us… so afraid… I loved every second of it.

… You’re sick…

No, my dear friend… I am just who you want to be. But you’re too scared. You have my desires. You didn’t beg to stop. You shouted ‘more, more…’

No, no… I’m not letting you win…

Come now, little Jake…

That is not my name anymore.

Ah, yes… Jake Underwood. A name forever to be lost and forgotten. You remember the good days we spent together, don’t you? You loved finding those little critters. You loved watching me dissect them. I want that Jake back… not this fake, Tyler Waller.

I’m not… I’m not him anymore… I am not you nor your pupet to control…

Then why am I out, Jake?

. ..

. . . nothing?

. ..

Have you surrendered to me at last?

. ..

Was that a knock?

. ..

Oh, hey doc… No, no I’m fine. Really, I feel perfect.. . oh sure, just have a seat right there…

I’ve been taking it, of course. No, no, I’m fine for another week. But thanks anyway.

. ..

What do you mean, something off? You have something off yourself- those glasses of yours. One has a small smudge in them. Why don’t you hand them to me, along with that rag over there? I’ll clean them for you.

Oops, looks like I wasn’t too careful. Sorry doc. Here- let me find some glue.

Oh no, this has the glue in it. I’ll clean them up later. Here, try to smell it…

. ..

Now, where did I see that little… a ha. Well, my apologies, good doctor… But Tyler never existed. It was only me and little Jake… but now, Jake is gone.

And I am free. Finally, after a decade of waiting… I am free… and Jake will die, in here, unknown to all. And I will be in charge. Now, if you must excuse me… I must return to my wife and child. They’ll love to see when Daddy’s home… and I’ll love to see the fear on their faces…

The fear that will stay in their eyes until their life drains away… I can already see their blood coating me… oh, its almost orgasmic…

And don’t worry about little old Jake. He’s dead now. Gone. Only I am here.

You can call me Watcher. 