[center][h3]Winner of RPGC #32: The Inner Voice[/h3][/center]
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[center][i]The Voice Within[/i][/center]

[i]Death…[/i]

I sigh as I hear the voice echo through my head. Ever since I tried out one of those spells from that old book I found at the flea market, this voice speaks to me. And always in these unspecific nouns or verbs. What does it even mean with death? 

[i]Kill… [/i]

Kill? Kill what? That person standing next to me, waiting for the bus? That spider crawling on the pole? The pigeon eating some scraps from the street? Is this voice warning me that the pigeon will be killed by an incoming bus and be dead soon?

[i]Kill…[/i]

The bus stops – luckily the pigeon managed to fly away just in time – and I enter it, taking place next to a lovely old woman, who smiles politely at me.

[i]Murder…[/i]

What? Do I need to murder someone? Has that sweet old lady murdered someone? It’s possible of course, you never know what lurks behind an innocent appearance.
I ignore the voice as I always do. Sometimes it’s silent for a few hours, sometimes it says something every minute. It’s not bad though, I kinda like having a companion with me at all times, even though this one could work on its eloquence. 
The voice stays silent during the bus ride. Maybe they’re enjoying the view. Maybe they’re scared of the old lady next to me. I don’t know, and I don’t really care either.

A few stops later I exit the bus and buy a hotdog before heading into the park. A man is walking his dog, or is the dog walking his owner? 

[i]Blood…[/i]

It’s ketchup really, I think to myself as I bite down in the hotdog. Maybe this entity has never seen ketchup before? I pity it if that’s the case.

[i]Death…[/i]

Not only does it lack eloquence, its vocabulary if awfully limited. Maybe I can upgrade it with a second ritual, add some words it can use. Maybe I should have sacrificed more than my goldfish. 

A pigeon swoops in and steals the last of my hotdog.

[i]Murder…[/i]

Now I agree, that bloody bird deserves to be murdered. But, it is long gone now. 

I get up and continue my walk through the park as I think back to the day this voice came to me. The ritual was actually rather simple: draw a symbol, sacrifice something (I really shouldn’t have picked that bloody goldfish), and say the words. It had gotten really dark for a moment and then I had heard it for the first time. And during the first hour it just wouldn’t shut up. Death, murder, blood, torture, kill, dismember. Either my goldfish had some deep resentment towards me, or this entity is just demanding things without telling me who or why or how. I don’t even like blood; it’s so sticky and it leaves terrible stains.

Now I am stuck with it, but it doesn’t do any harm. It’s good not living alone anymore; that goldfish was a lousy companion, this one talks at least.

[i]Torture…[/i]

Sure, dude, I’ll torment my neighbour later and put on some loud music. Death metal?

[i]Death…[/i]

I’m glad we agree.