text: Written for my boi JackDaws featuring Donutting and CrimsonAshes. &#x200B; It was insignificant at first. A tiny crimson dot on his right arm which Jack thought would go away after a few days, but it had been weeks and it spread throughout his forearm like an angry cancer that taunted him at every turn. There were times when he heard it whisper, but of course it was surely his imagination. Hands don't whisper. Such lunacy would have gotten him a hiding from his father if he still lived with the grumpy old man. It was after work and Jack had long learned to ignore the odour of stale sweat that permeated the gym, but there was something about the damp locker rooms that didn't sit right with him. There were a few people finishing up their showers, but Jack could not be bothered today. He was tired and needed some sleep before the morning where a busy day of planning his house renovation loomed over him like a towering monster that grinned cruelly at his struggles. He grabbed his gym bag from the rusty, dented locker and when he passed by the mirror he paused for a moment before deciding that he should at least wash his face. The sound of streaming water filled his hearing but Jack could only stare at his face in the mirror. His once healthy smile was now replaced by a permanent frown that creased his forehead with wrinkled lines. Yes, work and house renovations had taken their toll, but he was also dealing with making arrangements for his relatives coming over to visit from the UK and a body building competition at the end of the month. Weeks of eating bland chicken breasts had made him unhappy. Suddenly the light overhead flickered, and a voice spoke to him. *"Eat a donut."* "What?" Jack wondered out loud. Water pattered against the floor. Whoever was in the shower was taking their sweet time. A water waster, in Jack's opinion, but that didn't matter now. Apart from him and the showering person there was nobody else in the locker room, unless... *"Eat a donut!"* the voice urged again, stronger this time. With more conviction. "No! Get out of my head!" cried Jack. "You're not real!" *"Aren't I?"* the voice said. It was smirking. Jack could feel it. Jack doubted himself for a second, and that was all the voice needed. *"You know I'm just looking out for you, Jack,"* said the voice. *"Eat a donut. It's good for your health."* Jack stared at the mirror again. His reflection stared back at him. His eyes were sunken and his cheeks were hollow. Maybe the voice was right. *"You know I'm right,"* said the voice. The sound of water streaming was louder now. Even louder than the voice. Jack found himself cupping his hands and scooping some of the water before splashing it against his face. The cold had done it. It cleared his thoughts. "No!" Jack denied flatly. He knew if he listened to the voice there would be no going back. "I am better than this!" The sound of a metal hatch sliding open from behind him caught Jack's attention. Of course it was a fat aged man with a white towel wrapped around his waist. What did he expect? They always seemed to take their time with their showers but somehow there was something sour smelling about them when you get close, no matter how much deodorant they used. Jack didn't blame them though. It wasn't their fault. The old man stared at Jack curiously before getting changed. Jack realised what an odd sight he might have been just now. A young, fit man just staring at himself in front of the mirror. But that didn't matter. The voice had gone quiet while the man was there. When the man had left, Jack gazed upon his crimson arm. Was it just him or had it spread even further now? Jack found the silence of the locker room deafening. What he used to enjoy was now very unsettling and he found himself reaching for his gym back and striding off outside where there were more people, but he didn't make it very far when the voice of the crimson arm spoke to him again. *"Did you really think you'd get rid of me that easily, Jack?"* there was mirth in the voice. The suddenness surprised Jack. He almost jumped out of his skin and caused one of the motorcycles passing by to swerve away from him but not before honking angrily and blowing dark smoke right into his face. Why was the voice talking? Jack panicked. There were so many people in the street. Their bodies squeezed and slid against him, ignoring his personal space, but this was Pakistan and that was the norm here. Jack had learned from a young age to always be constantly vigilant. The aroma of street food cooking everywhere filled his nostrils and Jack found his stomach grumbling. His will to resist was weaker now. Perhaps if he bought a skewered chicken it wouldn't be so bad. It was protein after all, right? *"It must be a donut Jack,"* the voice urged. *"There's no two ways about it."* "ARGH! SHUT UP YOU WHORE!" Jack lost control and screamed at the top of his lungs. People around him were staring now. Jack could feel the heat on his cheeks and on his ears. If he could see himself, he was certain that he had gone very red, and he tried to use his gym bag to hide his face. *"I will shut up,"* the voice started. *"But only if you grab a donut."* "Fine." He had given in, and Jack could feel his right arm tingle in what must have been happiness. There was a donut shop nearby, Jack decided to make a beeline for it. An electronic bell rang the moment he opened the door and the first thing that welcomed Jack after the bell and the blinding white lights was the cool air. He needed that. The thin film of sweat that coated his arms started evaporating and Jack felt a sweet bliss. There was no one else in the store except for the staff sitting at the counter. She was a petite girl wearing a black hijab. Jack noted her name tag which read 'Kres', but there was a bored look about her as she played with her phone. "Ahem!" Jack faked a cough to grab her attention. Kres stared up at him with her dark eyes. "Yes?" "I'd like a donut please." The girl looked annoyed at being disturbed and did not speak when she pointed to the sign that read 'Self Service'. "Can you read?" she said. Jack didn't bother with her. All he wanted was to satisfy the crimson hand's cravings so it wouldn't bother him anymore. He grabbed a brown takeaway bag and stuffed a donut hurriedly in without thinking too much about the flavour. *"What are you doing?"* said the voice. *"Take three!"* Jack clenched his teeth together and rolled his eyes. Fine. If that was what it took to get rid of the voice, then so be it. He stuffed two more donuts at random in the bag, but the voice was demanding. *"Jam filled buns hardly count as donuts. Only the ones with the hole in the middle are real donuts. Replace one of them!"* This was the worst. Jack put one of the strawberry jam filled donuts back and grabbed another. Then he made his way back to the counter. The girl seemed less annoyed now. She had obviously been watching his antics and must have found him amusing. "That's $6 for three. Or you can grab a dozen for a dollar each." "No the three will be fine." Jacked reached into his gym bag and opened his wallet to find that he only had 99 cents left! "Oh fuck." "Sorry?" "STEAL THE DONUTS!" screamed the voice. \# To be continued...