If I told anyone that I hear voices in my head, they’d think I was crazy. I hope no one finds this, because I am just writing this to put into words my feelings. I read it was good therapy for crazy people, though I really don’t consider myself crazy.
It would be only so bad if there were only voices, though. At night, the creatures behind them haunt my dreams. They’re always talking, screaming, yelling. I can’t sleep now, because if I do, I’ll have to see them. Hear them louder and clearer than I do when I’m awake.
Some days it’s a struggle to focus on my day-to-day tasks as a phone consultant for a local toy store. I have trouble in hearing customers sometimes; that’s just how loud the voices get.
There’s Aglagox, the headless teddy bear. The stump of its neck is one big eye that looks about nervously, and each little furry toe is a mouth that spits a different kind of bee. He’s the least threatening one in my opinion.
The creature that calls itself Kevalwor is a 16-legged spider with 16 eyes and 16 mouths. All of its mouths are drooling and slobbering; where a droplet of drool hits a surface, it becomes a swarm of tiny spiders. It is especially fond of crawling on heads for obvious reasons. I hate spiders. Hate.
One of the oddest is Jack. Jack is a severed head with a spring jutting from the remains of each of its eyeballs. They honestly look as if they burst outward from within the eyes themselves. On the end of those eye-springs are crude and ironic boxes. Their sole purpose in existing seems to be to function as a sick parody of jacks-in-the-box. It occasionally and unceremoniously will flop its tongue about. Its tongue is a mass of writhing earthworms, swollen with pus and one will occasionally explode to release a foul-smelling white substance. It is from this pus-like goop that a misshapen, bloody chicken fetus will emerge only to squawk noisily and in great pain before dying.
As much as I hate spiders, I would gladly wear Kevalwor as a hat if it never meant having to see Olee-o again. Olee-o is a Rubik’s Cube, though each face of the blocks is a mouth that beckons you to solve it. It whispers lies and horrible truths, and the only defense against its 3x3x3 gnashing mouths would be to try to solve the puzzle. That’s its gimmick. Once you are holding Olee-o, it will begin to eat your hands. You become so engrossed in trying to solve it that you lose the ability to feel pain. By the time you have lost your hands, you have undoubtedly gone completely mad. Olee-o will berate you before attempting it and more so while holding it. It’s unsolvable, though. I dreamed so many times that people were tricked by it. It should be obvious. No two squares share the same color. Once Olee-o has taken your hands, the cube breaks apart into a small swarm of gibbering blocks that I have seen strip a body clean far too many times for my own comfort.
Though there are only four entities in my head, they make a horrible amount of noise. They say different things to different people, but they always say the same thing to me. They want me to destroy them, I think. I can’t imagine why these nightmarish creatures would tell me how to get rid of them. They keep telling me I have to get them out of my head, whatever that means.
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