The Aberration by Bard Constantine

It’s you… you’re putting these images in my head…”
    “And what about Fran?  Surely you remember that lovely piece of work…”
    Guy stood up slowly and turned to Fran, who shuddered on her knees with her hands bound.  Tears trickled down her cheeks as he raised the dagger.  The duct tape on her mouth muffled her pleas.
    He rammed the blade into her chest with all of his strength.
    The Other One shook his head sadly.  “What a shame.  It was such a glorious moment.  Face the truth, Guy.  You cut the phone lines, you doused the lights, you tied them up, and you slaughtered them one by one.”
    Guy’s eyes burned as he raised his head.  “ No . You lie .  Michael was with me at the end.”
    “Michael?”  The soft voice was all too amused.  All too knowing.
    Guy’s hands trembled.  The dagger was still in his grasp, slicked with blood…
    “The same Michael that you threw off the rooftop after you slit his throat?”
    Michael gurgled, blood streaming from the ruby gash that opened in his neck.  When Guy shoved him, he toppled over the railing and plummeted downward, dwindling in the pouring rain…
      Guy threw back his head, choking on his scream.  “ No .  They didn’t die that way.  They saw what I saw.  They knew it was real…”
    The Other One sighed with fatherly patience. “You filled in those blanks yourself, Guy.  That’s what insane people do.  You supplied their thoughts, their actions to excuse the fact that you butchered them like animals.”  He shook his head as he looked down at Guy.  “Or do you think it’s a coincidence that every time you have one of your visions , someone ends up dead?”
    Guy felt the strength leave his limbs.  It can’t be true.  It can’t be… He gritted his teeth.  “Lies.  It’s all lies…
    “It’s all true .”  The shadows billowed around the Other One, the Others swayed on the towers as though feeding on his words.  “You create a fantasy world in which you’re some immortal slayer of evil all so you can avoid the truth –that you are most vile one of all!”
    Guy shook his head.  Even that small effort felt weak, as though with every whispered word the Other One sapped him of his strength.  “No.  No …”
    The Other One was a majestic shadow that towered over him.  His head seemed to touch the clouds; his eyes were pits of fire.
    “You’re a psychopath , Guy.  Why else would you stand here, surrounded by your own demons?  You don’t understand people, except as targets for your hatred.  You detest them, Guy; you despise their duplicity, their weak and pathetic natures, their lies, their constant need for self-reverence…”
    Guy squeezed his eyes shut.  It was too much.  The darkness swelled along with the hypnotic voice, stretching toward Guy with gluttonous fingers.  It was over.  He knew he had failed, as he had so many times before. 
    Pain bloomed in his shoulder.  He opened his eyes to a view of the large raven that perched with its talons sunk in his flesh.  The obsidian eyes stared into his, willing him upright.  Its harsh caw shattered the stillness, causing the Others to stir from the towers agitatedly, slicing through the mesmerizing tones of the Other One, who halted in mid-sentence.
    “What is this?” 
    Ravens surrounded Guy, filling the air with their raucous cries.  The clouds above his head roiled; darkened further by the myriads of ravens that entered through the beacon from the other side.
    The beacon shimmered.  For a brief moment, Guy saw the mill rooftop in the afterglow.  It was still pouring rain but Michael was visible.  He looked around until he spotted the fire escape at the edge of the roof.  He hobbled over and painfully clambered onto the ladder, descending into the pouring rain.
    The image faded away.    
    Guy looked at the dagger in his grip.  The blade glowed faintly.  The ivory haft was carved with winged figures.  He looked at the Other One, who stared