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Denn's Mobile Circus - 4. Chapter 3: The Incredible Divided Man
The sound of someone speaking over an intercom got my attention. It made me wonder if, and why, Kev would have an intercom system in his backhouse. I opened my eyes, prepared to start looking for one. All wonder about it went straight out the window as I noticed I was not in the room that I’d fallen asleep in.
I sat up immediately.
“Whoa!” An unexpected voice on my left sounded startled.
Eyes were on the source of the voice.
It was a young Mexican man dressed up in white hospital scrubs. Surprise was just leaving his face to become a smile.
“Sorry about that, Mister Phillips, you got the jump on me again,” he sighed and shook his head.
And how, I wondered, did he know my last name?
I asked him that question, and ended it with “And where am I?”
An expression that started out as knowing, before it leaned toward disappointed, then swung fully back toward knowing again, went across his face.
“You’re in your room, Mister Phillips. You were asleep,” he answered.
“What room?” I inquired.
“The room that you’re housed in.”
“Which I’ve never seen before in life, so let me be a little more explicit. How do you know my last name, and where the fuck am I?”
His eyes widened just a bit.
“My name is Alex, and I’m a staff member at Memorial Neurological Center. That’s where you are right now,” he answered.
Pause…
“Where did you say I was?” I couldn’t have heard that right.
“Memorial Neurological Center,” Alex answered. “You’ve been here ever since your accident.”
Accident?
“When did I have an accident?” I inquired.
“A little over six and a half years ago,” Alex responded.
I pulled back in shock.
“Where the hell was I at when this happened?” I had to hear the answer to this.
“At the restaurant where you used to work.”
“What kind of accident did I have?”
“One that messed you up pretty badly. You had an angry customer who threw a drink at you. When you stepped back, you slipped, fell, and hit your head on the edge of the shelf that the soda machine was on. It put you into a coma for a month.”
Confusion overtook shock.
“Uh…” I shook my head, “No. I don’t think that’s what happened.”
“Unfortunately, that is what happened, Mister Phillips.” Alex nodded.
“I think I would remember if something like that happened. And I don’t.”
“No.” Alex shook his head. “You never do. Every time you wake up. It’s part of your condition.”
Condition?
“So, now I have a condition too?” News just kept getting better.
“It’s called aggravated narcolepsy.”
I knew that word.
“That has to do with falling asleep uncontrollably, right?”
“Yes it does.” Alex nodded. “And since you’re awake, I need to give Doctor Shell a call.”
“And he is?”
“Your physician.”
He went over to a phone that was mounted on the wall, picked it up, and dialed a four digit number without waiting for me to respond.
“So…I just fall asleep? From out of nowhere?” I didn’t care if he was on the phone.
“You usually stay awake for about a month, then, you fall asleep for the same amount of time. It’s part of the cycle – ” he answered, before Doctor Shell, I assumed, picked up the line and cut him short.
That was okay. I needed a second to think.
I didn’t know the finest of details about comas, or all the other business this boy was talking about, but I couldn’t front. What he said sounded…possible. There had been that time jump after the woman threw her drink at me. Every sane person in the world knew that time did not just jump. But it could if I had, in fact, hit my head and knocked myself into a coma.
I began to wonder if everything that’d happened after the supposed fall was nothing but a dream.
Alex interrupted my thoughts. He was done with his call.
“Doctor Shell is on his way right now, Mister Phillips. He told me to tell you that he’s glad to see you’re back up again.”
“Shouldn’t I have an IV or something if I fall asleep for near a month at a time?” I felt I should call attention to such a detail.
“Already taken out.” He indicated my arm. “Along with the catheter tube.”
Looking down, I noticed a strip of white first-aid tape across my right arm, just before the spot where my arm folded. The first-aid tape held down a cotton ball.
“We usually do when we know you’re about to wake up. Can’t have you tearing the IV out again,” he continued, as I further noticed my clothing was a short-sleeved hospital robe.
I was also in a hospital-style bed with the sheets pulled up to my waist.
I looked over at Alex, then back down at my arm where the IV had been removed. I pressed lightly on the center of the cotton ball. A light, but present, sting answered. I looked back at Alex.
“When I’m sleep…do I dream?” I inquired.
The sound of someone at the only door to the room caught Alex’s attention and mine. It unlocked, opened, and in stepped an older gentleman rolling a mobile workstation. He was on the tall side, with kept gray hair, and blue eyes that smiled from behind his glasses.
“How are you feeling today, Mister Phillips?” he greeted me.
“Confused,” I answered honestly.
“Completely understandable, as always.” He nodded. “Well, as Alex has probably mentioned, I’m your physician, Doctor Shell.”
Doctor Shell parked his mobile workstation by the foot of the bed and retrieved the stethoscope from its place around his neck.
“Thank you, Alex. I’ll take it from here.” Doctor Shell excused him.
“Okay.” Alex started toward the still open door. “Nice to see you awake again, Mister Phillips.”
“Yeah.” I sent back at him. Mind was still trying to get a grip on my new...reality.
“Let me have you take the top part of your robe off, please,” Doctor Shell instructed.
I did as he asked, realizing I didn’t have any underwear on in the process. I held the robe in place just below my waist.
“When I fall asleep, do I dream?” I asked my ‘physician’.
“Yes, you do.” Doctor Shell answered, putting the cold diaphragm of the stethoscope against my chest by my heart. “Before you respond to that, deep breath in.”
I did as instructed, before being told to let the breath out. I performed the procedure a second time, before Doctor Shell moved the diaphragm further down and had me do the breathing again. After two more times of that, he moved to my back and did the same thing.
“Are they all different, or…” I wanted to see how he would fill in that blank.
“No. For people with your condition, the dream is always the same.” He filled, returning the stethoscope to its place around his neck.
“So, you’re saying everything I remember after I hit my head is a dream?” I wanted to be clear.
“One you’ve been having since your arrival almost seven years ago. It starts, plays out over a period of time, then ends. When it ends, it starts over from the beginning again, like a giant loop,” Doctor Shell answered. “Let’s take your pulse while we talk.”
He put his two fingers on my wrist and looked at his wristwatch.
“I’ve really been here for almost seven years?”
“Yes.” Doctor Shell confirmed, continuing to take my pulse.
“Then why does it feel like this is the first time this ‘dream’ has ever happened?”
“It’s one of the anomalies of your condition. For whatever reason, whenever you fall into a sleep state, your mind purges everything from the awake state from your memory,” he answered, finishing with my pulse. “When you reach the end of the dream loop, your mind also purges that from your memory. That’s why you don’t remember that you’re in a hospital right now, or that the dream you’re having is one you’ve had many times before.”
Doctor Shell adjusted his glasses, before he put his hand on my shoulder.
“But we have some new procedures to try out. Maybe this time, we’ll be able to break the circle.” Reassurance was in his voice and smile. “Let’s go ahead and get your requisite MRI done. I’ll send Alex in to take you down and we’ll resume this conversation when you return.”
Just like Alex had, Doctor Shell didn’t wait for a response from me as he went over to the phone, picked it up, and dialed in another four-digit code.
“Yes, we have a patient ready for his MRI,” he said to the person on the other end.
He was silent for a moment.
“Right. Room 217. Thank you very much.”
Hanging up the phone, he came back to where I was.
“If I’ve been here for almost seven years, it’s clear I can’t be helped.” I had not been reassured.
“Not true. You see, the brain is a very complex thing. There are times in my field where we encounter something we just haven’t seen before. Something new. When that happens, we have to take time to figure it out. So far, it’s taken us almost seven years trying.”
“Then I recommend you make some breakthroughs.”
Doctor Shell smiled and nodded.
“We won’t stop until we do.”
Keys in the door to the room interrupted us. My attention went to it, along with Doctor Shell’s, as it unlocked and opened. In walked an orderly that was not Alex. This one was a white male with a solid build that put it a few steps past slim. His face was clean-shaven, making him look young, but there was still a sort of ruggedness to it. And his eyes were a stunning shade of green.
“…You!” I knew exactly who I was looking at.
“Who?” both the orderly and Doctor Shell inquired.
I got ready to answer when “Act like you don’t know me ‘n don’t say my name, if you know it.” hit my ears.
The voice had not been Doctor Shell’s.
But the orderly’s lips weren’t moving when I heard the instructions.
From him, I looked to Doctor Shell, who’s eyes were fixed on me. A look of inquiry was on his face.
“Mister Phillips, do you know this young man?” he asked.
“Uh….no.” I decided to lie. “Just surprised it wasn’t Alex.”
“He’s on break, Mister Phillips,” the orderly I knew said, removing any doubt that it was his voice I’d heard earlier.
“Which he knows better than to do. He knows how sudden changes can upset Mister Phillips when he first wakes up,” Doctor Shell told the orderly, then nodded to me. “I apologize for that.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”
His attention went back to the orderly.
“You know where to take him?”
“Yes,” the orderly I knew responded.
“All right,” Doctor Shell acknowledged before turning to me. “I’ll be back here by the time your MRI is finished.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“Do you need some help getting up?”
“No,” I answered, pulling the covers back and getting out of the bed. “I think I got it.”
“Okay.” He nodded, taking his leave.
I waited until Doctor Shell was gone before my attention went back to the orderly.
“Are you who I think you are?” I asked.
The orderly nodded.
“‘N’ I’m gonna teach you a new trick. Whatever you wanna say to me, just think it and play like your sendin’ the thought at me,” his voice spoke again without his lips moving.
I continued to look at him as I thought, “You’re not supposed to be real.”
“I promise we’ll explain everything to you once were out. Until then, let’s keep the conversation between us on this level.” His response confirmed he heard me.
I was about to ask how he could hear me, and me him, when I remembered the talk about the Pack Bond; the part in particular about members of the same Pack being able to talk to one another with their minds. I figured that’s what we were doing.
But if that was true, how was it possible? All of that was supposed to have been a dream?
“What did you mean when you said ‘once we’re out’? Out of what?” I almost spoke aloud, before remembering to think it.
“We’ll explain that too. For right now, just listen ‘n’ follow. Have a seat in the chair. Keep your head down until we get into the elevator. Don’t look at anyone.”
I wanted to say ‘Explain some shit to me right now, or I’m gettin’ my black ass back in the bed’. Because, according to Doctor Shell, the person in front of me wasn’t supposed to be real. Yet, there he was. Maybe the Doctor hadn’t gotten around to it, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about me being delusional.
…Which, I couldn’t be.
If I was, Doctor Shell wouldn’t have been able to see the person giving me instructions –
“Don’t think, brother. Just do.” The orderly cut in.
And before I could make up my mind to do it or not, I was doing it. I seated myself into the wheelchair and held my head down.
“Ready.” I thought at him.
Turning the chair around to face the open door, the orderly wheeled me out of the room and into the hallway. He parked me. I was tempted to look and see why, but I didn’t.
A door closed. A pair of keys came out, jingled as one was selected, then used to lock what I figured was the door to my room. My chair un-parked, and off we went down the hallway.
I saw the feet of people as they walked past. I heard conversations. Lots of them were just general talk. About work. About kids. About life. But some were about the patients. How Mister So-And-So in room 227 had taken up his habit of exposing himself in front of the female nurses again. How Miss So-And-So’s daughter had finally decided to pull the plug on that vegetable she called her mother. I was about to tune out when I heard one of them mention ‘Phillips’ on their way past.
“Could you imagine if you just fell asleep like that, then woke up not knowing what’s going on over and over again?” a woman’s voice asked.
“God, no, I couldn’t,” an older woman’s voice responded. “I feel so sorry for that young man.”
“So do I.”
“I just pray that one day they’ll find a way to…”
Their conversation drifted away as they continued on in their direction, making me wish they’d walked slower. But nobody walks slow in a hospital.
The orderly stopped. He slid past me and out of my forward line of sight. The ‘ding’ of an elevator bell told me what he’d gone to do. His shoes returned, and went beyond my line of sight backward, as he re-took his place behind my wheelchair.
We waited until the elevator pinged again. The sound of its doors drawing open followed. Turning my chair around in the opposite direction, so that I was now facing the hallway, the orderly pulled me onto the elevator. Parking me, he went to push the button to whichever floor we were going to. The doors pulled shut and the elevator began to descend.
“All right, you’re clear to lift your head,” he said. “But we keep communication this way. Do not speak.”
“Where are we going?” I inquired.
Moving around and to the side of me, he pulled the red ‘Stop’ button. The elevator halted.
A sound from above caught my attention before I could ask what he was doing. Looking up, I saw one of the panels in the ceiling moving up and off.
“Konichiwa, bitches!” Joseph-Carter appeared in the dark square. “Micahel, heads up.”
He was gone for a second, then returned and passed down a large white bag to me. I took it.
“Stand up,” the orderly said to me, hitting the side of the wheelchair lightly a couple of times.
I did, as he went back to his spot behind the chair. Flipping the switch at the bottom center of the chair, he pulled it together and collapsed it.
“Alley-oop,” Joseph-Carter said, extending his arm down.
I stepped out of the way so they could do their thing.
“In that bag are regular clothes. We’re gonna dress up in ‘em ‘n’ walk out the front door of this place,” the orderly said, as he passed the chair to Joseph-Carter, who pulled it up through the hole and onto the top of the elevator.
“How did you two get here? You’re not supposed to be here.” I wasn’t quite passed that yet.
“Once we’re out, like I said before,” the orderly answered.
And I was tired of that answer.
I let the bag drop to the ground.
“Tell me – ” I suddenly did not give a damn about the no-talking rule as something rose up in me in a way, and at a speed, I’d never experienced before.
That something was anger.
And my voice…
I could swear I heard it changing with the two words I got out before the orderly cut me off with “Got somethin’ that’ll help you handle that.”
He walked over to me…and kissed me full on the lips.
It was done and over with before any reaction on my part kicked in.
The thought of what I was about to say to the orderly was just starting to form when something hit me.
I gasped.
The hit wasn’t painful. It was…weird. Like a sudden current of energy was coursing over and through my body. It filled me with a strong, but mellow, tingle. I could feel every hair on my arms, legs, and neck standing on end.
And that’s when I felt it.
No.
Not it.
…Him.
The orderly.
I could…feel him.
His presence wasn’t just in proximity. It was inside me.
…And I knew his name.
Aurey Reynolds.
The current winked out. The rest stayed.
“How’s that anger? Better?” the orderly I now knew as Aurey asked. He’d pulled the bag into the center of the elevator and was opening it.
“…Yeah.” I nodded finally.
It’d been knocked down from a screaming ten to a frustrated two. Didn’t know, until I met it in the street, that it could come up on me so suddenly and with such…rawness.
“But we’re talkin’ about this shit once we’re ‘out’. Whatever that means,” I concluded.
Already knew he wasn’t going to tell me what’d just happened if I asked. Also didn’t want to take the risk of causing my anger to return.
“Yup,” Aurey replied, opening the bag and pulling out the clothes. “These are yours.”
He tossed me a pair of blue jeans and a black shirt, which I caught. Remembering I was butt-naked underneath the robe, I slid the jeans on first. Taking off the robe, I put it down, grabbed the black shirt, and put it on. It surprised me how well both fit me. It was like I’d picked them out myself.
Aurey started changing shortly after I did. Unlike me, he had on underwear when he shucked his scrub bottoms. He slid on his black set of jeans, got rid of his scrub top, and pulled on the white T-shirt he’d taken out for himself.
He went for the bag again.
“Yours,” he said, pulling out a black pair of shoes.
I took them and put them on, while he took out a pair for himself and did the same. Shoes on, he grabbed all our hospital clothes and put them into the bag.
“Ditch it ‘n’ come on down,” he told Joseph-Carter, closing up the bag with its drawstring and handing it to him.
Joseph-Carter reached down, took the bag, and stashed it somewhere on top of the elevator. When he returned, he came out of the panel feet first. He maneuvered himself to sit on Aurey’s shoulders. With the extra height, he reached up to close the panel back.
I could see he was already in regular clothes the moment he’d reached down for the wheelchair. But for some reason, I never noticed that he was wearing a black baseball cap.
Aurey got down on his knees so Joseph-Carter could get off his shoulders.
“This is for you,” he said, taking out another black baseball cap that I assumed he had in his back pocket. Hadn’t seen him take it off his head.
I reached out and caught the cap by its front. As I got ready to pull it toward me, Joseph-Carter tugged back on it suddenly. The tug pulled me forward. Not far, but good enough to pull me into the right position so that when he walked forward, I was in the right range of his lips, which touched mine in a full kiss.
‘Did this little muthafucker just – ’ was the forming thought, until a hit struck my body like a pimp correctin’ his bitch in public.
This strike wasn’t the same. It didn’t roll over me in a calm, almost zen, sort of way. It hit me, exploded, and sent a rush all through me. I couldn’t help the shudder my body made. Goosebumps attacked every part of my skin.
That’s when I felt it again.
Aurey was no longer the only presence I could feel inside me.
Now there was Joseph-Carter as well.
…Or, as he most often went by to the people who knew him, Jo-C.
The rush brought me down gently and winked out. Everything else stayed again. And so did something else. An odd sort of…sense. The only way to explain it is to say that I could feel my surroundings. I could feel the shape and size of the elevator, as well as my position inside of it.
“That was for you too,” Jo-C added, letting go of the cap. “You’re welcome.”
I took the cap and put it on my head.
“Just so you know, you’ll be present when me and Aurey have that talk,” I told him.
“Count on it.” He nodded.
“When we step off, we’re goin’ straight for the front door. Pull your hat down. Keep your head down. No eye-contact with anyone,” Aurey instructed, pushing in the red ‘Stop’ button.
“How will I be able to keep up with you?” I saw a flaw in that plan.
“Won’t have no trouble with that at all. You’ll see.”
Hoped so. Because if the objective was to sneak out – I’d assumed from the changing of and ditching of clothes – then I was going to stand out like a sore thumb bangin’ all into shit.
Five ‘pings’ was how long the elevator rode before it slowed. Slowed became stopped. I pulled the front of the hat down and dropped my head to the ground. It gave a much-restricted view, leaving me just enough forward line of sight to see the backs of Aurey’s and Jo-C’s shoes. I was going to have to walk right with them to keep them in sight.
Made me hope no fast moves needed to be made.
The sound of a television greeted us as the doors came open. Aurey and Jo-C stepped forward. I went with them. I figured we were in a waiting room lobby. That was usually the place where the televisions were located.
But no.
That wasn’t what I sensed.
We weren’t in the lobby. We were walking toward the lobby. And we were in a hallway. A wide one. I could feel the free space, but also the enclosure.
Noticing this put me a few steps behind Aurey and Jo-C, taking their shoes out of my line of sight. Just as panic started to creep up, I realized something…unexpected. I could feel where they were. Their direction. How fast they were moving. How far ahead they were.
Now I knew what Aurey meant about not having a problem following them.
The hallway spread out. The area felt larger on both sides. There was more than one television. There were six. Three on each side of us. The sound they were putting out broadcast their exact locations. How spread out they were from each other. Which direction they were from each other –
Something was moving toward me from the left.
It was moving fast.
I stopped.
A large white bouncing ball streaked with pink hit me lightly in the leg. It reminded me of the ones I’d played with when I was a kid.
The sense again.
Another something was moving toward me from the same direction as the ball.
Before I knew how to react, that something stooped down to pick up the ball. The action put a little girl, who didn’t look any older than five, into my direct line of sight. She got her ball and looked up at me. Our eyes met.
She stood.
The ball dropped from her hands and took a couple of bounces off to the right. Her right hand lashed out and fastened onto my wrist.
“I see you! I see you!” Her little voice sang in a song.
“The front door is directly in front of us,” Aurey said.
“Book it!” Jo-C added.
Looking up, and snatching my hand out of the little girl’s grip, I saw that the door was ten or so yards away from us. Would’ve made me run faster if it weren’t for the group of officers I could see on the other side of the door about to walk in. Couldn’t tell if they were actual police or just security, but whichever they were, they had guns.
They came in through the large, electric double-doors that served as the entrance to the place. I stalled. Aurey and Jo-C did too. We watched as the guards spread out to the left and right in front of the door, forming a blockade.
“You’re not supposed to be down here, Mister Phillips,” a familiar voice spoke out to us from the opposite direction.
I turned to look behind us. Officers were on that side too. They’d formed a blockade across the hallway leading to the elevator. The little girl was now on the left side of the lobby, standing along with all the other people who were in there. They were all facing us. Looking at us.
Also looking at me was the owner of the familiar voice. Doctor Shell. He stood in front of the officers with arms crossed and a look on his face that threatened to turn from stern, to pissed, at any second.
“Let’s get you back to your room.” His tone simulated his face. “Right now.”
“As of right now, Mister Phillips is bein’ discharged.” Aurey spoke the words physically.
Doctor Shell opened his mouth to respond.
“Don’t believe he was addressing you, whoever you are,” another familiar voice said from the opposite direction, cutting him off.
I turned just in time to see an additional person emerging from behind the officers barricading the front door. He was outfitted in the same uniform, minus the hat, but plus another gun on what would’ve been his nightstick hip.
If I hadn’t already felt like my situation rolled into the Twilight Zone and parked for a spell, this would’ve done it. The dude speaking looked and sounded just like me.
“What. The. Fuck?!” I was surprised I remembered not to speak.
“Exactly what I’m thinkin’,” Jo-C agreed. “Aurey, is this supposed to be happening?”
“No,” Aurey didn’t hesitate on that response.
That scared me.
“Don’t know who you are.” My double pointed to Aurey. “Or who this other little white boy is.” He indicated Jo-C. “But I know you’re both not supposed to be in here.”
“Then step aside ‘n’ we’ll be happy to leave,” Aurey said.
“You got one thing about that right.”
By the time the thought to react formed in my head, my double had already drawn his guns and aimed at us.
‘We’re dead’ was all I could think.
My double pulled the triggers and the guns fired.
I felt the shots as they struck. One directly in the center of my chest. The other was also to my chest, but to the right. I looked down at my shirt, expecting to see wet spots breaking out on the dark fabric. There was no blood. And there was no pain. Just…the feeling.
“AH! FUCK!” Jo-C cried out.
He was standing behind me to my right. I looked. He was holding his hand over the right side of his chest. Eyes clenched shut. Face contorted in pain. Body attempting to double over.
Knowledge hit me from out of nowhere. I’d never been shot at all. Jo-C and Aurey had.
Jo-C’s eyes snapped back open. He winced, recovered, then winced again harder. Recovering from that, his eyes started to look up at me before they suddenly focused directly ahead. Pain left his face and was replaced by a look that I knew only came with one thing. Realization. The bad kind.
“Oh, shi…” was all he got out before his eyes rolled suddenly into the back of his head and his body collapsed to the ground.
The second it made impact with the floor, it turned into ash and exploded apart. The explosion spread a short distance, before it was swallowed up seemingly by the air itself.
Hands grabbed my shoulders roughly and spun me around to face Aurey.
He looked sick…
“Find a way…” he began, before his eyes started to roll back in his head.
His lips pulled tightly together as if he were straining. His eyes rolled forward to look at me again. I watched as his green eyes began to fill with a yellow glow.
“…Out of here,” he continued, his voice deepening with each word. “Don’t go back…”
Again his eyes started to roll. The look of strain didn’t show on his face as they rolled completely back. His grip loosened on my shoulders and he began to fall to the ground.
“No!” I reached out to grab him.
But it was too late.
His knee hit the ground just as I sprang into action. Immediately, his body turned to ash and exploded apart. Just like Jo-C’s, it was swallowed up until there was nothing left.
My double broke the encroaching silence.
“Well, well, well. After all these years, we meet again. Couldn’t just stay in your place, could you? You had to try and escape.”
Did not know what’d just happened to Aurey and Jo-C. Did not know what the actual fuck this person who looked like me was talking about. But, I did know that my anger meter was movin’ on up toward that dangerous level again. Whatever was holding it back before was slowly fading away. That was just fine. I didn’t want to hold it back.
But first, what was this shit about ‘escaping’.
…And also, where were the officers?
They weren’t there with my double anymore. He was the only thing standing between me and the front door to the place.
I took a quick glance over my shoulder. The officers blocking the hallway weren’t there either. The people, including Doctor Shell, were gone as well. Me and my double were the only ones in the room.
It was also dark outside. Before it’d been day. Add to that the feeling of Aurey and Jo-C being part of me suddenly not being there anymore…
“Who…what are you?” I did my very best to keep my brain from exploding.
“What am I?” My double pointed to himself.
He chuckled.
“I’ll tell you what I’m not. A mistake like you. Don’t even know how you’re still alive to be honest.”
His response was so far out in left field, I didn’t even know how to process it.
“So…” he continued. “You can do this the easy way and let me escort you back to your room. Or you can do it the hard way and have me drag you back to your room. Either way, you ain’t gettin' out these front doors.”
Aurey’s last sentence stuck out in my mind, pulling me back from encroaching insanity.
‘Don’t go back…’
Was that how he was going to finish the sentence? Don’t go back to your room? Didn’t know for sure. But my own mind, despite being screwed, was made up. I wasn’t going anywhere except out the door of that place.
But I had some issues.
Trying to get passed my double would be impossible. He’d shoot me at least six times before I even made it to him. I didn’t know the place, so I didn’t know any other way out except for the front door. That meant getting my double away from the door long enough to make it out. The only way I saw to do that was to lure him deeper into the building.
There’d been a check-in stand on my left. I remembered the two women standing at it with their eyes locked on me, Aurey, and Jo-C with the rest of the people. It’d been open. No metal grate or plastic window protecting it. It would provide cover to get behind and protection from the left and right sides, due to being walled in. It would also force my double to enter in the same way I’d have to, which could provide an advantage.
I glanced over my shoulder toward the check-in stand. I guessed it at about thirty-feet away. Without thinking about being fast enough to make it, I turned my body and made a sprint for it.
“So…the hard way, then,” my double said from behind me.
I didn’t stop. Kept hauling ass toward the check-in stand.
Approaching it, I leapt up. My left foot connected with the edge of its counter. I used that as my step to carry my right foot forward across the counter.
A shot went off.
Then, I felt it.
It tore into the back of my right arm, searing it with pain. I stumbled and fell off the counter and into the area behind it.
Pain snatched every piece of my focus. The point of impact felt like it’d gone numb. The rest of my arm, however, was on fire.
“You might as well give up now. I know every square inch of this place. You’re not gonna be able to run or hide from me for long,” my double taunted from beyond the check-in station.
His last word was just getting finished when I realized I couldn’t feel my surroundings anymore, like I had been able to earlier.
Couldn’t worry about that now.
My eyes opened from being squinted in pain and surveyed. There was a small desk a few feet in front of me. I could see the other side of the room underneath its front end. There was a door.
Pulling myself up into a hunched position, with the pain from being shot attacking me like my name was Susan, I made my way to the door as quickly as I could. I reached for the door handle, expecting to hear a shot. I didn’t. I turned the handle and was never more happy to see a door open in life.
Since Plan A had gone out the window upon getting shot, plus not being able to feel my surroundings, Plan B was to get the fuck away. It’d led me to a room that was lined with five large cubicles on each side. Beyond that was what looked like a laboratory, where blood work and things of that nature were done. The floor path went to the left and right at the entrance to the laboratory.
I entered and stood up completely. Pushing the door back, without closing it, I resumed my run. I went on passed the cubicles, to the laboratory, and stopped. On the right was a door. I figured it led back out into the lobby.
It would be the way to go if my double chose to follow my same path.
But would he?
Was it easier to skip my path and walk to the door I was currently considering?
My attention went to the left, where the path led to more cubicles, before turning to the right. If there was a door beyond that right turn, I figured it could take me back to the lobby. If my double used any of the other doors, I’d be able to hear it and make my move. But that was if there was a door at the end of that right turn. If there was wall, I’d be screwed.
I took the risk at being screwed, and went down the left path and turned right. There were more cubicles. At the end of that was the door I was hoping for. I dashed for it, listening as best I could to hear if any of the other doors came open.
Making it to the door, I grasped the handle, turned it, and slowly began to pull it open. It did lead back out into the lobby. Just before the area where the hallway that led to where the elevators were. It also led to my double. He was standing right there with one of his guns pointed directly at my face.
He smiled.
“Whoops.”
He pulled the trigger.
I fell backward. It was the first reaction I could think to come up with. I heard the shot. I landed ass, and lower-back, first on the floor facing toward the door. My feet were still close enough to touch it. I kicked the door back shut.
Immediately I was up, tossing myself back first onto the door as a barricade. I already knew there was no way in hell I’d make it to the turn without getting shot if he got in.
“I’m gon’ give you two seconds to figure out why that’s a bad idea,” my double said from the other side of the door.
Only took me one.
The door I was behind was probably not bulletproof…
I launched myself off the door and down the pathway in a ducking run.
A shot came.
I heard the door shatter as the bullet pierced a hole through it.
I stumbled and fell suddenly; just in time to hear what I thought was a bullet soaring over the left side of my head. Scrambling back onto my feet, I made it to the turn and took it.
My double pursued. The sound of the door being opened roughly alerted me just after making the turn. I pulled up into standing position and broke into full sprint. I was going for the door directly in front. Going the other way would mean trying to get back over the counter at the check-in station.
The sound of my double’s footsteps told me he wasn’t running, but he was moving fast. The question of if I’d be fast enough to reach the door before he came around the corner raised its hand, but I ignored it and kept haulin’ until I made it to the door, opened it, and stepped out into the lobby.
I took a second to look for the front door. It was to the right. I sprinted in that direction, knowing that even if my double ran, he wouldn’t catch me before I made it out.
Sensing my arrival, the electronic opening device began parting the front doors for me. They were about half way open when I noticed they reflected what was behind me. The only reason I noticed was because there was movement in the reflection in a place where I wasn’t at. My double had run. Had to have in order to make it to the check-in desk when he had. I heaved myself through the still opening doors at the same time a shot went off.
It missed.
But I hadn’t.
I sprawled onto the ground outside the doors, falling onto my shot arm.
I screamed.
The pain hit me so hard it paralyzed me to the spot. It was about to consume me completely when something else hit me. It was so powerful it made me feel like I’d been knocked out of my own body for a moment, before it snatched me back in and fastened me down.
It was a feeling I’d felt before, back at the empty house when ‘Large Marge’ had Jo-C down for the count.
I was Shifting.
The warmth I remembered from before returned, filling my body with its energy. I could feel the bullet in the meat of my arm moving. The numbness melted away as the feeling of the bullet’s motion increased. It moved up. The further up it traveled, the more the pain decreased. Further and further it went until it was back up and on top of the surface of my skin. The pain vanished completely.
But some things had reappeared.
I could feel Aurey and Jo-C again. It was nowhere near as strong as it had been before. Just…barely there. The sense of surrounding, which had abandoned me earlier, had also come back. It was in full force.
And there was something…off.
I was outside, but there was no chirping of crickets. There was no sound, or feel, of a breeze blowing. Everything was impossibly still and quiet. There wasn’t even a buzz coming from the electric lights that were lighting up the outside with bright amber-colored light.
No time to question that. The sound of footsteps approaching returned my attention to the situation. My double was in pursuit.
Picking myself up off the ground, I noticed the bullet was still stuck on the backside of my arm where it’d come out, covered in my blood. I brushed it off and turned to look back through the front doors. My double stood not fifteen feet away, stalled in mid-step.
“…Huh.” Unsureness was what I thought I heard in his voice. “That was a pretty neat trick.”
He finished his step.
“Let’s see if you can do it again.”
Didn’t even get a moment to think about moving. A shot struck me in the left leg, reminding me why I hadn’t liked getting shot the first time. It snatched my balance away from me. I fell onto my good side and steadied myself with my hands. My left leg throbbed angrily.
The same sensation and reaction that happened with my arm kicked in again. My leg began to heal, pushing the bullet closer to out as it did so. This bullet actually popped out, as my body finished rejecting its presence, this time. The sound the bullet made as it hit the ground wasn’t loud, but it was audible. Audible enough for my double to hear it as well as I had. The look on his face was one of absolute anger.
Full feeling back in my leg, I stood up.
“Stay down!” my double commanded, firing another shot at me.
I was hit.
Another shot went off.
And another.
…And another.
Fucker really liked my arms and legs as targets.
Each hit knocked me backward a little as they made impact. Pain followed each and every one of them. Each time, however, it was less than the last. And it felt like I was healing faster.
Recovering from the assault, which hadn’t knocked me down, the last bullet my double shot me with was rejected forcefully. My gaze returned to him, as I prepared for him to unload the rest of the clip on me.
He’d forgotten about shooting. He stood there with a look of disbelief plastered across his face. That look began to change as he holstered his gun and reached with both hands behind his back.
I readied. Had no idea what he was going to pull out. His hands came back into view. They were outfitted in a pair of silver colored brass knuckles.
“These ought to kick you down some notches, if the rumors are true,” he said, breaking into a sprint right at me.
Good.
No way in hell I was going back into that building.
I turned my back to my double and walked away from the door. I wanted a bit more distance between me and it, just in case he was stronger than I thought, and he attempted to throw me back in.
Stopping, I turned around just as my double reached me and took a swing. His silver brass-knuckle covered fist struck my jaw, snapping my head to the right. I was ready for the pain it erupted into. Wasn’t ready for how short lived it was. It dulled faster than the pain from the gunshots.
Just as that was becoming non-existent, the second hit from the other direction came, once again in the jaw. This hit didn’t land as hard as the first, but it was still enough to cause a reaction. A third punch followed same as the first. A fourth punch followed same as the second. By the tenth punch it was like I wasn’t even being hit at all. It was as like all the power had been drained out of my double’s punches with each one he gave.
And he realized it.
He took a half-hearted eleventh punch. When my head didn’t so much as twitch from the impact, he shook his head. He took a step away from me. And for the first time I saw fear creep into his eyes. Then, something chased the fear away. It put a nasty twinkle into my double’s eyes that I didn’t like. A smile played across his lips.
“You want me? Come and get me!” he challenged, turning to run back into the building.
“No!” I, in my deepened voice, disagreed.
I lashed out and snagged the arm he was pulling back to start his run. He never got the chance to react until he was spun around to face me and my hand latched itself around his neck in a death grip.
I brought him face to face with me, growling behind clenched teeth.
“…hat are….you…gonna…do? Kill…me?” He choked out.
“Debating,” I answered.
“Let...see how…long…y..ou last. You ain’t…sh..it…ithout…me.”
And then…he spat in my face.
The level of rage that hit me was so powerful it removed all logic. I opened my mouth. I didn’t know why I was doing it until a strange sensation spread into my gums. All four of my canines, and the incisors next to them closest to the front of my mouth, tingled powerfully. I didn’t remember this happening during my first fight, but I knew what was going on. My teeth were changing.
It didn’t take long for them to do their thing. When they were finished, I removed my hand and went for my double’s throat in an attempt to take his head clean off. My teeth gripped, then tore into his flesh effortlessly. The sound of his windpipe crushing was oddly satisfying. I whipped my head to the right, enjoying the feeling of his ripping flesh as my teeth tore through it. Didn’t need to whip to the left. One was all it took to snatch his entire throat out.
Holding it in my mouth, I caught his falling head in my hand.
I looked him directly in the eyes…
Then, I spat his ripped-out throat into his face.
I let him think about that for a moment, before I let his head go.
His hands grabbed at the gaping wound in his neck as I did so. His body collapsed to the ground and began to shake as if it were seizing. Gurgling sounds came from his throat as he tried to breathe with a non-existent windpipe. Blood squirted through his fingers as his heart continued to pump to an area that wasn’t there anymore.
I watched, curious to see how long it would take him to die. Didn’t have to wait long. The shaking of his body slowed until it was stopped completely. He took one final, shallow, gurgling breath a second after. Then, there was silence.
Didn’t know why I felt the need to do it until a split second before it came out of my mouth. I needed to do it because it was release. It was vindication. It was victory.
And it was all let loose in the thunderous howl that tore out of me.
* * * * * *
- 7
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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