Chapter 44 Ioana, The Fifth
Chapter 44
Ioana, The Fifth
She thought she had the strength to permanently silence me. But no one can shut out the little voice in the back of their head completely. Especially when that voice belongs to someone else. And being trapped inside her has allowed me to sense her weaknesses and exploit them. For the last ten years, I have been able to manipulate her when I feel like it, make her pay for doing what she did to me. Today is one of those days, when she will do what I say because, if she doesn’t, I’ll take her over completely. And I don’t deliver empty threats.
She’s changed a lot since her first occupant joined her on this journey. Her mother, I have learned. I suppose she only wanted the best for her daughter. To encourage her to take charge of her life. To give her a reason to continue when she was at her bleakest. And she is grateful for that. But her mother would be mortified if she realised she’d left the gates open for the rest of us to jump on board the crazy train. I assume she thought she’d be the only one to guide her child, not to then be replaced with the next fresh kill, and so on and so forth.
Of course, Zain, Jenny and Warren all wanted out of her head the moment they arrived. Why would anyone in their right mind – excuse the pun – want to be anywhere near her? They didn’t think twice about killing their friends as a means to escape her. Warren even murdered me, a stranger to him, just to free himself from her toxicity. But she knows me well enough to know I’m different.
Because I want to stay here.
I’m not going to encourage her to kill anyone else. Given the choice of being out there in the real world or here, of course I’d pick out there. But being here is better than being dead and forgotten. It gives me the opportunity to continue where I left off. She and I have a common enemy and if I urged her to kill the final name on her list, what would happen to me? I’d vanish and be replaced. And I’m not ready to go anywhere.
The second counsellor she saw told her there’s a diagnosis for what she has.
‘A dissociative identity disorder that can evolve as an extreme reaction to bereavement in adolescence,’ they said.
She doesn’t agree with that evaluation, but I think it’s because accepting it means she’d be forced to admit there’s something wrong with her. That me and the others are not real. That we are in her imagination. By denying it, she can continue to blame her passengers for making her kill. Anyone but herself.
If she thought about it, she’d realise she’s lucky to have me. We’re the perfect match. However, for our relationship to work, she knows there has to be give and take. And now it’s my turn to take. I need her to listen and to do as I say. And only when I’m completely satisfied will I retire, at least for a time, to the shadows.
‘Start gathering your equipment and preparing yourself for what is to come,’ I tell her now. ‘Because later this week, all you’ll hear is my voice giving you instructions. And you’re going to follow them to the letter.’
Silence.
‘I hope you’re listening to me,’ I continue. ‘Because there will be consequences if you aren’t, Anna.’