Chapter 3: The Third Voice
The crime scene was quiet. Too quiet.
Not the kind of quiet you'd expect after a murder — no sirens, no reporters, not even the rustling of neighbors peeking from curtains. It was that kind of silence that eats at your nerves. The kind that makes you feel like something is breathing right behind you, even when you know you're alone.
But I wasn't alone.
Not ever.
The living room smelled faintly of copper. Dry blood had soaked into the carpet fibers, forming a ghostly outline of her body. The lamp by the sofa flickered once, like the house itself disapproved of what had happened. Or maybe it approved.
I don't know anymore.
"You sure you cleaned everything?" the voice asked. Calm. Collected. The smart one. Let's call him K. A real tactician. The kind who could rig a crime scene like Mozart composed music — beautifully, methodically, fatally.
I nodded slightly, even though no one could see me.
"You're not done," another voice hissed. The Demon, I called him. No class. No remorse. He didn't plan murders — he enjoyed them. Laughed when bones cracked. Smiled when people screamed.
I didn't smile. I couldn't.
I stared at the body again. Clara. My ex. The love of my life.
She looked peaceful. That's the part that haunts me most. Her eyes were shut. No terror. No struggle. Almost like she knew this would happen. Almost like she accepted it.
Maybe she deserved better. Maybe she didn't.
But I had reasons.
I had a plan.
---
"You're not a monster," K whispered. "You're... an architect."
"He's a monster," the Demon cackled. "He just built a prettier cage."
I didn't answer.
Instead, I reached into my jacket and pulled out the receipt. 11:30 PM. Alcohol. Snacks. Alibi. I slid it into my wallet like a badge of honor. I had paid for this night with precision.
I had even timed the window between her final breath and the decomposition rate. Left the AC running. Made sure the blood didn't dry too fast. That way, when he arrived, it would still feel fresh. Like it had just happened.
Who's he, you ask?
Her boyfriend. Or... fiancé. Whatever. It didn't matter.
I invited him over. Told him Clara had been feeling sick. That she wanted to talk. That maybe they could work things out.
He brought wine.
Perfect.
He drank fast. Faster than expected. Nervous guilt? Who knows. Doesn't matter. All that mattered was getting his fingerprints.
And I got them.
On the handle. The blade. Even a smear of skin from a cut on his finger — all carefully transferred.
He didn't see Clara until after.
Until I said, "She's resting in the bedroom."
He staggered in. The shock hit him like a freight train. He screamed, fell, hit his head. Unconscious. Out cold.
And I? I smiled.
I placed the knife in his limp hand. Arranged the body. Flipped the table to fake a struggle.
Then I left.
---
Back outside, the night air felt thick.
You're not breathing, K said.
You should be screaming, the Demon laughed.
I walked down the street, hands in my pocket, the same route I used to walk with Clara. Before everything turned black.
She had left me. Not for him — for herself. Said I was distant. Unstable. Said I "talked to people who weren't there."
She wasn't wrong.
The thing is... I almost got better. After the drowning.
Yeah. A month ago, I nearly died. Slipped in the river behind my apartment. No one around. Cold. Breathless.
That's when they were born.
K showed up first. Told me how to survive. How to out-think. How to build the mask.
Then the Demon came. With rage. With teeth. With that damn laughter that echoed even in dreams.
And now? Now I'm just... me.
Whoever that is.
---
Back at my apartment, I stared at the mirror.
Three faces stared back.
One calm. One smiling. One... terrified.
I whispered: "We're safe, right?"
K nodded. The Demon licked his lips.
But I wasn't sure anymore.
"They'll suspect something," I said.
"They'll suspect him," K corrected.
"They'll dig deeper," I insisted.
"Let them," the Demon growled. "Let them come."
I sank to the floor.
Beneath my breath, I whispered to Clara's ghost — wherever she was:
"I'm sorry... but you were the only one who made me feel whole. And when you left... I shattered."
From the mirror, the Demon's smile widened.
"Let's shatter the rest."
---
To be continued...