If you would tell me in the past (exactly a year ago) that I would find out that my best friend is a wendigo, that a cult wanted me to be in some wack proficiency, and that my life would not be normal after that. I would say you're lying and messing with me. But we're not always right, are we?

Everything still seemed off to me, the thought of me being involved in whatever this was very... Very, what word should I use? Sad? Insane? Crazy? Yeah, I'll settle with that. (But I wouldn't blame you if you said the other two words would fit it better instead.)

This took place shortly after the "omnipotent notebook" incident. I just came out of the hospital, after I got into my house. I started questioning myself and the events of the past year.

Think about it, the cult, Lucas, my utter sense of dread lately. Especially the dread... The Dark God was still there, sure, maybe not in a physical form. But he (Or it) was an omnipotent deity of hatred and narcissism with a moral obligation to destroy the impure or whatever. And not only that, he has an immortal high school sociopath, and a manipulative snake I have as a "stepfather" working for him. I don't even know how to stop them.

Sure, I have a man-eating creature as a best friend in Lucas, a former cultist who knows more dirty laundry than me in Heller, and some supportive people in Dakota and Rylan. But that isn't enough against a deity who has several loyal servants and a lackey you can't kill permanently.

These were the thoughts I was asking myself as I went to bed that night. I laid down on the mattress, frowning as I looked at the wall. It usually took forever for me to sleep. My eyes were shut but I didn't feel that sense of sleepiness to seal the deal. I started moving on my bed as I tried to rest.

But everything felt off. The night was pitch-black, I could barely see anything that went past my hand. I tried to pass out but I couldn't. There are questions with no answers and I wasn't going to let it slide.

How did Mr. Jackson show up after suddenly being missing? Why did the Dark God want anything to do with me? What happened to my father? I thought to myself, my mind and emotions racing each other in pulling out straws to find conclusions. So many conclusions that I don't even believe were true.

I stayed this way, laying on my side, and continued confronting myself with questions. Shoving myself into a hell of my own making. A very self-loathing hell of my own making that made my insecurities even worse.

An hour passed without anything weird or bizarre happening. I stopped the self-interrogation and focused on what was important, my rest. I closed my eyes, breathed slowly, and tried to rest.

That was until the sound of whispers came into my ears. Quiet, incoherent whispers. The ones that you hear make your worse mental state and go to the point of no return. They sounded... demonic as I tried to rest.

At first, I ignored them. I treated them like they didn't exist. Intrusive thoughts do go away when you don't give them the room to exist in. But this didn't work, those whispers continued to pester me, and it only increased even more after that.

I then began to insult the whispers. I called them all of the insults you can imagine. Some are so vulgar that even I, a guy obsessed with messed up humor, don't want to write this down.

Oh yeah? You're nothing but pointless voices! I thought to myself, You're only a figment of my imagination! You're only here because my mind made you!

Yet again, the strategy ended up like Operation Barbarossa's success. Good at first, but failed in the long run. The whispers became even worse somehow! They became louder than a metal concert and a planet being destroyed combined.

And to make it even worse, they started saying words instead of gibberish. They keep saying cryptic things like "Accept your destiny, Joe" and "The Dark God is waiting..."

It went on and on and on. No stopping for a second, nothing changing or different. Just more Dark God propaganda and vague meanings like some sh#tty poem made by a megalomaniac who's also a snob. I continued to lie down while more and more of the God-forsaken voices continued their offense of lies and hatred.

I then just clenched my fist and said "F#ck it! Time to investigate this crap!"

I don't know why I thought about this. This was a pretty stupid idea in hindsight, but I was worn out and tired. All I wanted was to get some damn sleep and the fact that some army of disembodied voices were harassing the sh#t out of me.

I got up and looked around. My table was on the left as I grabbed the Walther P38 from it. The gun of the fallen empire must've been messing with me. Because I could swear that the thing was glowing a holy yellow around it. Like a weapon of a warrior, an enchanted firearm that has helped me every time I got stuck in those paranormal issues.

Man, my life is so weird.

I looked around my room, searching for the origin of the whispers. It didn't come from under the bed, or the nearby drawers. I checked almost everywhere for a second. And yet again, no voice origin or anything.

I then turned around slowly. My body became numb for some reason as I began to check on the closet. Only for my situation to get worse and made this situation even less sense.

What was in the closet? Was the all too familiar giant, brown spider fangs. Their tips look sharper than two katanas. My head began to hurt. I slowly aimed my pistol at the thing in the closet. My body began to run on autopilot, my hands gripping my pistol tightly as I stared at the (hopefully) hallucination inside the closet.

"Oh God no..." I said as I realized that this was far from over. "Not this again. Anything but this. I just wanted to sleep!"

The whispers stopped as I stared at him. I sighed at the thing as I looked at him. I looked down at the ground to try not to get sick. My body trembles at the entity.

Before anything could happen. Before I could pull the trigger of the Walther P38. It spoke, in that same deep voice that almost gave me a headache.

"Pulling the trigger isn't going to make things any better Joe... Things need to be done."

I groaned as I heard him. His infectious voice booming from my closet.

It took a minute for me to speak. I don't know how to process this situation. The Dark God, the diabolical entity that corrupted my friends, made my life worse and tried to kill Lucas for being "different." All of this and now he was messing with me again.

"Why? Why the hell are you at my house?" I asked, controlling my emotions as I aimed the pistol at it. This was all too familiar to the incident a year prior... "Why do you keep harassing me like this? I didn't do anything to you! And you decided to come to my home!?"

The deity sighed as he moved his fangs, practically taunting me.

"Joe, you're wrong about this. I only came along to help this world. This world's been impure for centuries." He said, his voice became calm as ever. My head only got worse and worse as he continued his lies. "I didn't attack you. Nor am I harassing you. I wanted you to accept your destiny. I was going to make things right... Until you shot me while I tried to get my physical form."

"Then why did you kidnap me and my friends for some stupid prophecy? You keep on doing all of this even though we did nothing to you! This whole situation is just your fault. The cults, the suffering, everything! You only made it worse!" I said, almost pouring my emotions out on him.

The Dark God groaned like I was hypnotized by some cultist.

"I kidnapped you because I thought it was the most effective way to make you join us," he explained, "I was clearly in the wrong at that one, I'll admit. But you shooting me, destroying my creation, and killing Randall so many times was not cool."

The world began to break into nothing. My room turned into that room all those years ago. Smell and all, the only difference was my closet was there. The fangs made me want to snap, want to break those God damn fangs in half.

"I don't believe you," I mumbled as I gripped the pistol. "I think you're only lying because you don't have the control you want. I only did this in self-defense! Randall keeps attacking me for no reason! What's the point? You can't be doing this! And to think that you did this, bringing me here is sickening! You're just as bad as WILSON!"

The Dark God continues to do its psychological effects. I felt my stomach hurting, my sweating became more present as I felt sick...

My finger squeezed the trigger...

Bang!

The bullet went past the thing in my sight. It quickly faded out of existence itself. The Dark God decided to speak more softly as I started to freak out. Not towards the levels I had one year back. But I'm still pissed at him.

"None of this would work Joe," he said. I felt my mind scrambling a little bit. "Just admit it, Wilson isn't perfect. But he's not evil either. Trust me, I'm not a monster, I want to help you... please."

"You're lying, you're a false prophet," I said, pulling the trigger with a BANG, "I will never support anyone like you! I'll not do that!"

The Dark God erased the bullet out of existence. My body is feeling way better now as he brought the bullet away.

The Dark God disappeared without a word. The smelly room where everything went to hell, just turned into normal. My vision glitches, seeing my friends, Heller, Lucas, Dakota, and Rylan. I saw everyone, I even saw my father himself.

But then everything was replaced with the same, dark bedroom I sleep in. The Dark God didn't seem to be found. It was like the whole thing never happened at all.

What happened? What did I just experience? I don't get this at all.

I turned to my bed. Trying to ignore whatever happened. I laid down, ignoring the hallucination of Tim's decapitated corpse standing near the bed (hopefully it was a hallucination.)

I closed my eyes and heard some ghostly sounds as I fell asleep. But not before I heard Tim say, "Please do the right thing, Joe..."

The End