After a brief interlude...

There are voices in my head. I sometimes mention it but no one listens.

I don't know what they are. They're not from outside, and they're certainly not part of the collective known as Nine. They're just there. Talking. We've named them Molotov the Cruel, Morgoth the Indecisive and Sheba the Enchantress, more as a joke than anything else. They don't have any physical or mental form and can be found nowhere within the System (that we know of) so ascribing names and personalities to them seems illogical... but we just like giving things names.
Molotov speaks quietly, in a low, mocking voice, rising to a crescendo when I'm feeling weak. He calls us all manner of names and assures us that we deserve to die.
Morgoth questions everything. He casts doubts on all our actions, leaving us confused and uncertain. He's not so much of a running commentary as a backseat driver, telling us that we're doing things wrong.
Sheba spends most of her time singing. She's got a fairly good voice, actually. She alternates between songs we've heard and those of her own invention, which have nice tunes but the lyrics are gibberish so far as we can tell. Sometimes Morgoth joins her, but not usually.
Maybe talking about them as physical beings actually helps me deal with them. I don't know. I rarely know.
Sigh.
They whisper in my head, constantly. Semi-constantly at least. Always there. For me that's normal. I often think it must be very lonely in other peoples' heads. So empty. So quiet. Sometimes I think I'd like that... but it's still very alien to me.
Other times I just wish this lot would shut the hell up.