One Voice – by Ian A.

‘Good evening and welcome to another edition of BarrTalk. I’m Dave Barr and this evening I will be interviewing an interesting cross section of society. We have Reg Miller, tramp turned publishing sensation, and Denise Stevenson, the most tattooed woman in Britain. However, before we bring them out, my first guest. He has recently made the papers with his extreme look and views. He is Trent, the Modulator of the Moirae Society. Please join me on stage. Trent!.’

There is a gentle ripple of applause. Trent takes the stage wearing combat trousers and boots, a black balaclava and, upon his chest, there is a circular cut which continually bleeds. The applause fade and he settles into a chair.

‘Good evening. It’s nice to meet you. Can we start with your appearance? What does it all mean? What’s with this circle on your chest?’

‘What do you mean? The circle as you call it is my way of communing with nature’s forces. It allows me to take instructions from the energies that exist around us. It’s a conduit to the One Voice.’

‘And the balaclava?’

‘Faces are not needed. Personal, physical identity gets in the way. All the time you concentrate on perceived views of beauty and ugliness it acts as a barrier to the great message. We are a blank canvas, ready to receive.’

‘Okay, perhaps you could tell us a bit about what the Society believes?’

‘We have no beliefs. We know there’s the One Voice and that steers our every thought and deed.’

‘You have no belief system? So what’s the point? It sounds like you are just abdicating to the One Voice.’

‘No! All members of the Moirae Society are integral to the One Voice, as it is to us. Just because there isn’t a framework of beliefs it doesn’t mean there isn’t a direction. We travel with the One Voice as it leads us through the patchwork of life establishing a subtle, yet definite, pattern. It is a combination of trusting nature’s forces and scepticism.’

‘What are you sceptical of?’

‘It’s not what we are sceptical of, it’s just that we are sceptical. Trust is over rated and underlies many of the ills we see in the world today. The more you trust, the less you question…’

‘Okay, I think I’m beginning to understand. Could you tell us how you commune with the One Voice?’

‘All we have to do is connect the plug, or circle as you call it, to a living entity or inanimate object and feel the One Voice.’

The audience sniggers as Trent mentions the plug. 

‘Plug? Like sticking your fingers in the mains socket?’


‘No? How does it work then?’ Silence pervades the set. ‘Okay. It might help me better understand if you show me how it’s done. Plug into something and tell me what the One Voice is telling you. Perhaps you could use the floor or your chair.’

‘Okay, but it will work quicker if I plug into something that is living. Perhaps I can use you.’

‘Me? I’m not so sure.’

‘I thought you wanted to see how it works, to understand.’

Dave Barr nods in acquiescence.

‘Shirt off then.’

‘Oh I don’t think so. I’m not having you press you bare flesh against mine. I’m not made like that.’

The audience sniggers, rising to laughter, as Dave removes his top. Trent presses his bleeding chest against Dave’s and starts a slow incantation. There are no words, just guttural sounds. Dave looks round at the audience. He pulls faces to hide his embarrassment and to keep the crowd amused until something happens. More noises,  Trent goes rigid, spittle forms at the corners of his mouth.

‘Looks like I’ve got a rabid dog stuck to my chest,’ the host says. ‘What is the One Voice saying?’

Through the incoherence words form.

‘Fear me. Understand me, know me, fear me. Feed me. Nourish me.’

‘What does that…..?’

As Dave utters these words Trent pushes his chest harder against the flabby flesh before him and raises a hand to the host’s neck. Trent reveals a blade in his other hand and presses it against Dave’s back. Blood forms around the nicked skin and Trent shouts, ‘Trust my direction, do not insult us, live life to extinguish it.’ 

Dave screams. Trent drops the blade. He looks around and starts to stroll off the stage laughing, uses his middle finger to gesture at the audience, stares at them and shouts, ‘Fuckers!’

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