MidReal Story
Echoes of War: A Haunting Revelation
Scenario: Awakening from a war nightmare, John is sweating nervous as he heres a voice whisper from his closet, its all your fault
Create my version of this story
John Matthews
haunted war veteran, no specific relationships mentioned, rugged with haunted eyes, introspective and tormented.
Sarah Jennings
supportive girlfriend of John, relationship with John is supportive and loving, warm and caring appearance, empathetic and strongwilled.
Dr. Michael Carter
John's therapist and confidant, professional relationship with John as his therapist, middleaged with a calm demeanor, analytical and compassionate.
I woke up from a nightmare to the sound of a voice in my room.
It was a woman’s voice, and she was blaming me for everything.
I couldn’t see her, but I could feel her presence.
She was standing right next to my bed, and she was angry.
“Why did you do it?”
she asked me.
“Why did you kill them?”
I tried to answer her, but my mouth was dry and my throat was tight.
I couldn’t speak.
I wanted to tell her that I didn’t know what she was talking about, that I had never killed anyone in my life, but the words wouldn’t come out.
The voice kept accusing me, and I felt like I was suffocating.
I tried to get up from the bed, but my body wouldn’t move.
I was paralyzed with fear.
The voice grew louder and more insistent, until it felt like it was echoing inside my head.
I closed my eyes and prayed for it to stop, but it wouldn’t go away.
I lay in bed, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare that had woken me up.
I was enveloped in the darkness of my room, and I could hear the gentle hum of the air conditioner in the background.
All was quiet, and I forced myself to take a deep breath and calm down.
It was just a dream, I told myself.
It wasn’t real.
I had nothing to be afraid of.
And then I heard the voice.
It was soft at first, barely a whisper, but it was enough to make my blood run cold.
“John,” it said, and it sent a chill down my spine.
I sat up in bed and looked around the room, but there was no one there.
“John,” the voice said again, louder this time, and I realized that it was coming from right next to me.
I turned to face the source of it, but there was no one there.
I was all alone in the room, and yet I could still hear the voice as clear as day.
“Why did you do it?”
I blinked in confusion.
What was she talking about?
“What do you mean?”
The voice hesitated for a moment, as if it were considering its next words.
And then it said, “Why did you kill them all?”
I felt a surge of panic rising inside me, and I shook my head as if trying to clear it from my mind.
This couldn’t be happening.
This wasn’t real.
But the voice was relentless.
“You killed them all,” it repeated, this time more forcefully.
“You killed them and you know it.I closed my eyes and tried to block out the sound of her voice, but it was like it was inside my head, echoing over and over again until I thought I would go crazy.
“Stop it,” I said, “just stop.”
But she wouldn’t listen.
“Remember,” she said coldly.
“Remember what you did.”
The blood drained from my face as her words sank in.
“No,” I whispered.
“It’s not true.”
But even as I said it, I knew that it was.
The voice started accusing me of things that were too horrible to even think about.
It told me that I had murdered innocent people in cold blood, that their deaths were on my hands.
It called me a monster and told me that I would never be able to escape what I had done.
It demanded that I confess to my crimes and accept responsibility for what I had done.
And with every word she spoke, my panic grew until it felt like I would explode with fear.
I scrambled out of bed and backed up against the wall, my eyes frantically searching for some sign of her in the darkness.
But there was nothing to see—nothing but shadows and empty space—because the voice wasn’t coming from anywhere.
It was coming from everywhere, surrounding me like a shroud and threatening to tear me apart.
I could barely breathe now, and my heart was pounding so loudly that I could hardly hear myself think.
A demons red eyes began to glow as it was taunting me about heaven and hell and to surrender my body to be kept locked away while my body became an instrument of evil
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I gasped.
“I haven’t done anything.You have the wrong person.”
“There is no use denying it,” she said.
“I know what you have done.”
And then she started listing off my crimes one by one.
She accused me of rape, saying that I had violated innocent women in the most cruel and inhuman ways.
She accused me of torture, telling me that I had inflicted unimaginable suffering on my victims while laughing at their pain.
She accused me of murder, saying that I had slaughtered men, women, and children alike with no regard for their lives.
And with each accusation she made, my fear increased until I thought it would consume me whole.
I wanted to get out of there—I wanted to run away as far as I could—but I couldn’t move.
All I could do was stand there like an idiot and let her tear me apart.
“I don’t remember doing any of those things,” I said desperately.
“You’ve got it all wrong.
But she just laughed.
“Oh, you remember,” she said.
“You just don’t want to admit it.”
And then she started telling me things that I knew for a fact couldn’t be true.
She told me about my past—my childhood, my family, events that I was sure I had never experienced—and said that they were the reasons why I had done what I had done.
She told me about all of the people I had met in my life and all of the people I had lost, saying that they were the reason why I had become so cruel and heartless.
She told me about all of the places I had been to and all of the things I had seen, saying that they were the reason why I had turned into a monster.
And with every word that came out of her mouth, I felt like I was being torn apart on the inside.
It was like she was digging around in my brain, searching for all of my darkest secrets, until there was nothing left but raw pain.
And it made me realize something.
Maybe, deep down inside, I really was guilty of everything she said.
Maybe there was darkness inside me that I didn’t even know about.
And maybe that darkness was finally coming to light.
I didn’t want to believe it, but as much as I tried to deny it there was a part of me that couldn’t help but wonder if she was right.
Was I really capable of such terrible things?
Was it possible for me to have done them without even knowing it?
The voice must have seen the doubt in my eyes, because it seized upon it immediately.
“It’s time to come clean,” she said.
“It’s time to tell the truth.”
I shook my head desperately, but it just made her angrier.
“You can’t hide from what you are,” she hissed.
“And you can’t escape who you are.You will never be able to change what you have done, so you might as well accept it now.”
I tried to shut her out by covering my ears and closing my eyes, but it was useless.
A bright light smashed in and a voice yelled out get the fuck away from him
and the only thing it did was make her laugh.
“What’s the matter?”
she asked.
“Afraid of the truth?”
“You’re not real,” I whispered as tears began streaming down my face.
“You can’t be real.”
I didn’t want to believe it, but no matter how hard I tried to tell myself otherwise there was still a part of me that couldn’t help but wonder if she really was there.
If maybe everything she was saying about me was true.
And if that was the case…what the hell could I even do?
“I’m real,” she insisted.
“And you know it.You’ve known it all along.”
“No,” I cried out.
“I haven’t—I swear—I haven’t—”
“Oh, look at you,” she interrupted with a sickening laugh.
“Crying like a little bitch.Crying like a little pussy.”
I squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as I could, trying to block out the sound of her voice.
“Stop,” I begged.
“Please—just stop—”
“You’re pathetic,” she said.
“Absolutely pathetic.I can’t believe that I let myself fall in love with someone like you.”
“You…you loved me?”
I gasped, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Yes,” she said, “and you ruined everything.”
I begged her to tell me what it was that I had done, but she just laughed and kept going.
She told me that I had taken everything away from her, that I had destroyed her life and her happiness, that I had turned her into something even worse than what I was.
And as much as I tried to deny it there was still a part of me that couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was some truth in it.
I didn’t want to believe that it was possible, but as much as I tried to tell myself otherwise there was still a part of me that couldn’t help but wonder if she really was right.
If maybe everything she had said about me was true.
And if that was the case…
If that really was what I had done…
“Oh, God,” I groaned as her words continued to torture me.
“Oh, please—I’m sorry—I’m so sorry—”
“Sorry?”
she laughed cruelly.
“What the fuck are you sorry for?You did this to yourself!”
“I don’t know—” I began, but before I could even finish my sentence she just laughed and interrupted me again.
“You killed them all,” she hissed.
“Why?Why did you kill them all?”
“I don’t know,” I told her desperately, but it only made her angrier.
“Yes, you do.You know why.You remember why.”
“I don’t—” I groaned as another sob wracked my body and then pleaded with her to let me go one last time.
“Please—just leave me alone—”
But this time, instead of laughing, she just sighed and shook her head.
“I’ll never leave you alone,” she said softly.
“You know that’s not going to happen.You’re never going to be able to forget what you did.You’re never going to be able to escape what you are.”
