Voices in the Dark

  Zubari sat on the creaky wooden porch of his countryside cabin, the distant hum of cicadas blending with the soft chatter of his old television. He rocked back and forth in his chair, listening to the smooth voice of his favorite actress on the screen. Her laughter, her presence—something about her felt like warmth in a world that had grown so cold to him.

  "I wish I had a woman like that in my life."

  Just as he noticed, across the night sky, a shooting red star streaked.

  The thought slipped out of him as naturally as breathing. He shook his head at his own foolishness, rubbing his temples as the voices stirred within his mind. They were always there, whispering, taunting, demanding. Urging him to do things he refused to do. He stayed alone because of them. He feared them.

  But that night, sometimes, the voices were silent.

  The next day, Zubari drove into town to stock up on supplies. The convenience store was small, barely more than a shack with shelves stocked just enough to keep the locals from making long trips into the city. As he stepped inside, his eyes fell upon a tense scene at the far end of the store. A man—white, bearded, wild-eyed— at first he seemed to be talking to himself, but at second glance Zubarie noticed a woman cornered between the shelves. His body language screamed control, his voice was low but forceful.

  Zubari couldn’t see her face. but out of concern he asked, "Is everything ok?'

  The man’s head snapped back toward him, eyes gleaming with menace.

  "The hell you looking at, boy?" he spat. "Mind your manners before I hang you from a tree like your kind should be."

  Something inside Zubari cracked.

  The memory hit him like a fist to the gut—his father, swinging from the old oak tree when he was thirteen. They called it a suicide. He knew better.

  The voices surged, black waves crashing against his resolve.

  Break him. Tear him apart. Show him what real fear feels like.

  Before he knew it, Zubari was on him. Fists flew. Blood splattered. The man howled as Zubari's knuckles slammed into his skull over and over. He felt himself slipping, drowning in the rage, in the violence. He almost killed him.

  Almost.

  Breathing heavy, face bloodied, he finally looked up—into the eyes of the woman he had just saved.

  She was light-skinned, delicate, trembling. And she looked just like his favorite actress.

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  Embarrassment crashed over him like a tidal wave. He muttered an apology and stumbled out of the store, ignoring the way she called after him.

  "My name is Taylor!"

  He drove home in silence, the adrenaline still buzzing in his veins.

  That night, he stood at the sink, washing the blood from his face. He stared at himself in the mirror.

  "Taylor…"

  A sharp knock at the door made him freeze.

  Zubari rarely got visitors. He stood there, heart pounding, the voices stirring uneasily. He hesitated before peering through the peephole.

  It was her.

  Taylor.

  Confused, he opened the door, and she was there, looking up at him with those big, soft eyes.

  "Thank you," she said, her voice hesitant but genuine. "I’m sorry if I interrupted. I just… I had to find you."

  "How did you—?"

  "I asked the store owner," she admitted. Then, in a softer voice, "But I would have knocked on every door in this town to find you, Zubari."

  He swallowed, still unsure. "Why?"

  "Because no one has ever fought for me like that before. And when we locked eyes, I felt something… something I’ve never felt with anyone else."

  She hesitated, then looked over her shoulder as if she expected someone to be watching.

  "I was forced to go with him," she said quietly. "But not because he’s my ex. He’s part of something—a cult. A group of people that’s been hunting me for years."

  "Hunting you?"

  She nodded. "Because of what I can see. Things… most people can’t."

  Zubari felt a whisper. She’s like you.

  Taylor shivered. "They won’t stop. Not as long as they know I’m alive."

  He should have turned her away.

  But when she was there, the rageful voices were quite.

  He let her in.

  That night, they talked. They laughed. He touched her hand, and she didn’t pull away. That touch became more. A kiss. Another. A first for him, but it felt as though he’d been waiting for her his whole life.

  They made love that night, lost in each other’s warmth.

  Hours later, headlights flooded the room. Taylor bolted upright, terror-stricken. "They’re here."

  Blinding. Dozens of them, piercing through the darkness outside his cabin.

  Zubari tensed, pulling on his jeans, already moving to the door. "Who?"

  She grabbed his arm. "Don’t go out there."

  Outside, shadows moved against the beams of the headlights. Five men. They weren’t cops.

  A voice called out. “Come out now, or we’ll come in.”

  Rocks shattered glass. Fists pounded on the walls.

  Zubari clenched his fists as the voices came roaring back.

  Another voice shouted from the darkness.

  "Come on out, boy!

  The voices inside him were screaming. Zubari dropped to a knee, hands clutching his head.

  Rip them apart. Make them suffer.

  Taylor crouched beside him, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. Her touch was like ice and fire at once.

  The front door burst open.

  And Taylor whispered, "Let go."

  Zubari blacked out.

  Then—chaos.

  The screams that followed weren’t his own.

  Furniture shattered. Blood sprayed the walls.

  When he came to, he was outside, watching a man crawling toward the headlights.

  Taylor was beside him. She grabbed his hand. "We have to go."

  "Go where?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

  She didn’t answer. Just pulled him into the car. Not his car—their car. The one the invaders came in.

  As they sped down the dark country roads, he turned to her, breathless, exhausted.

  "Why didn’t we take my car?"

  She looked at him, eyes shining.

  "They slashed your tires. Your car wasn’t going to make it where we’re going."

  Zubari’s hands tightened on the wheel. "And where is that?"

  She smiled, just a little.

  "To Hell and back, but we're gonna do it together."

  The voices in his head were gone.

  And for the first time in his life… he was confused but he wasn’t afraid.

  As the first light of dawn touched the horizon, Zubari drove on, into the unknown.

  And Taylor held his hand the whole way.

  But was she wish come true or the beginning of a nightmare unfolding.