Matthew No-Name, And His Crazy Friend, Pt. 2

My hands still shook as they clutched the steering wheel, my mind just coming to terms with what my body had apparently already done. Suddenly, as before in the compound, my hands went numb, and they were suddenly steady on the wheel. Again I heard that voice from before, speaking to my brain like a walkie-talkie.
"Speed up and keep us three miles above the speed limit. I need to get us somewhere you can get some food and I can explain what's going on."
Just like that, and it was gone. My head never felt any different for it's presence, but I knew it wasn't someone else. Whatever the voice spoke for, it was something that was as much a part of me as my heart. The hardest part about it was, the voice seemed unbalanced. I can almost feel how insane it truly is, and how fast it will act on the instinct to kill. But maybe soon, everything would make more sense. If I'm lucky. If not, I'll have to just spend the rest of my life with a schizophrenic voice in my head, and hope that it's something they have medication for.
I sighed softly, speeding up the car and feeling the adrenaline in my veins disappear completely. I was still stuck in a toga made of sheets like I knew were found in hospitals. I could remember being in a hospital, but I couldn't remember what my name was. This was turning into a terrible day, and I've only been awake for an hour.
Catching sight of a truck stop, I pulled the car up and felt my hands become mine again, standing up and getting out of the car, the stolen sports bag in my hand. Walking slowly into the store, I look around, my eyes searching for the bathrooms. Catching sight of them, I grabbed my bag tighter and hustled forth, moving quickly through the aisles toward the sanctum of toiletry. Suddenly, a beefy arm was in front of me, and I felt it hit my chest, stopping me in my tracks.
Looking up, I felt my heart sink as I saw the person before me. He was taller and much bigger than I was, and had the look of a seasoned truck driver. I froze on the spot as he began to speak.
"We don't like yer kind 'round here, boy. So I suggest ya get yer faggot ass outta my truck stop, before i have to get rough wit' ye." Said the man, his breathe like rotten milk shoved into a cat's ass. It was clear he wasn't messing around, and that I need to leave. Soon.
"Oh, for the love of Jesus' monkey, who is this fuckface?" There was the voice again, paying attention to me. Suddenly, my whole body went numb, and what happened next was almost too fast to see.
My right hand seemed to flicker, and suddenly it was pressed deep into the man's chest, a long, thin blade seemingly attached to the palm and driven straight through the trucker's breastbone. With another flicker, the hand pulled itself out and the blade vanished back into the palm, my whole body pivoting itself around quickly, slamming a roundhouse kick into the side of the rude trucker, knocking him into a wall. With a quick step forward, my left hand suddenly pushed itself in under the solar plexus, and then ripped open his rib cage in a splatter of gory anger. Standing up, the voice walked me quickly back to the bathrooms and dressed me faster than I thought available. Fighting was beyond me, tears falling from my eyes as I tried to come to terms with the fact that a voice in my head had just killed a man with my hands.
Seemingly ignoring my piteous crying, the voice pulled on all black clothes, loose but comfortable, and a holster belt, complete with a gun around my waist. I'm not even sure why he's doing this, I don't need a gun, I just need to go home.
Before I know it, we've moved back through the store, and a huge wallet is in my back pocket. The voice is moving my body back to my car, grabbing food as we go and not paying any of the frightened people in the store any attention. Everything's confusing, and I don't remember much or think much until we're already on the road. Trying hard to pull myself together, I get up the courage to ask the voice what's going on, and the answer was more horrible than I imagined.
"Those doctors found you when you were little. You've never been human, and so they studied you, and discovered what you can do. Those weapons I keep using? They're your power, they are summoned by your will. I can use them too, which makes everything easier for me. I don't know how they made me part of you, but I have existed only since you were 12. They never talk to me, but they know I'm here, so they know that you're dangerous. I can control you, I think, but not completely, so you need to figure out who you are so we can find a place where you'll be safe. Until then, just know that weapons are at your command constantly, and I am here to help. Also, you're much stronger than normal humans, and you heal faster."
The words echoed in my mind as my own hand fed me on it's own and the other one drove me into the night. I could feel my mind straining to comprehend, and nothing stayed the same.
I fell asleep soon after, my body still moving under the voice's control.

-Fin-