“Hiya Champ,” it said, before falling gracefully and landing in front of me. “Wondering where you are?” It assumed my appearance, but its presence alone betrayed the bloodlust and hostility that hid behind its porcelain mask. I looked around again at the forest that seemed to stretch on forever, like black tendrils ever suffocating the earth. The canopy beheld the emptiness of the void, but above it sunlight filtered through the leaves. I had never felt at more unease than I did in this space.
“I don’t want to argue with you, or play games. I’m here for Aera’s Vanta, and that is all. Then I’m gone,” I asserted, walking towards one of the bird baths that rest beneath a tall deciduous void tree. To my surprise, the waters weren’t an inky black, but a mercurial silver, almost reflective in nature. As I peered inwards, I saw a memory: a young Aera had found a small bird, its wing broken, a heartbreaking chirp coming from its tiny beak. In her eyes, I knelt down to the bird, covering it with my umbrella to shield it from a raging storm, before scooping it up, and holding it in my arms gently, walking it along until I came to a bridge. I then proceeded to drop the bird off the side of the bridge into the torrenting waters below, feeling little to nothing, and proceed with my day.
I stumbled away from the bird bath, into something solid; I turned to see the murderous copy of me smiling still, watching me. “Starting to get the idea of where we are, Champ?” it asked, in a taunting voice.
“Is this Aera’s internal space? What the hell is wrong with it?” I asked, looking around at the serenity and obscurity of my surroundings.
“Well, as you can probably tell, she isn’t normal. She doesn’t feel things like we do. Everything is just a positive or negative outcome to her, goals and ends, nothing more. For example, try to look for yourself here. See what comes up,” it said, smiling even wider.
Before I even realized it, I was scrambling between bird baths, looking for anything about me, or our relationship, or if she had loved me at all. It took me a while to find a bird bath about me, and as I peered within, it showed a teenage Aera being bullied, and feeling a negative emotion, and spotting me. I felt her notice that I was stronger than I let on, and that I was timid and weak emotionally, making me an excellent mark for her plan to stop being bullied. I saw her perfectly lay the emotional trap, and I saw myself fall for it completely. There was no emotion when she saw me, only an assurance of safety. I scrambled to find any other memory, but only found two; of her near death at the hands of the Siphoner, and of suddenly being back home again with no understanding of why or how.
There was nothing of me in here, no lingering sorrow or regret, nor hatred, nor greedy longing. I was simply the tool that had been used, and then left behind when it was too much trouble to fight for. I had spent years with her, doing everything for her, ruining my chance at a life with friends for her, and she didn’t even think about me. She had done reprehensible damage to me, I had smiled and thanked her for it, and still not even a wistful thought. I looked for my doppelganger in the forest, and marched towards them as they just laughed at me.
“Looks like you’ve figured out just how much all that effort of yours was worth, huh, Champ!?” It was taunting me, goading me to react, and I didn’t care anymore; everything I had planned for went to hell, and I was going to get something out of this, even if it was the satisfaction of beating this murderer senseless.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
I rushed it with all my speed, but it was able to match my ferocity; I threw an opening right haymaker for its ribs, and it dodged easily, even managing to land a counter blow to my right leg with a kick. I followed up with a spinning back kick of my own leveled at its head, but it just ducked, and took me off balance by attacking my pivoting leg. I was able to regain control, but not before getting struck with a left jab to the jaw, disorienting me. I backed off, and it pounced on my weakness, rushing me with blow after blow that I only just managed to dodge. I pushed it back to create some breathing room, and as it struck out with the next right cross, I tried to counter grapple it, maybe getting it into some sort of restraining hold. But it read my intentions, and elbowed me in the sternum, a resounding crack echoing through the forest.
I didn’t understand: how was this version of me so much better at fighting than I was? I thought we were the same person, or at least derived from the same origins; if that was the case, then how was I not able to land a single blow on them? I tried to think of all the differences between them and me, and could only think that they must be more powerful than I was somehow. But if that were the case, then there was nothing I could do to best them here.
No. That wasn’t true. The Siphoner was far above me in terms of skill too, but I beat them. I killed them. I just needed the right conditions, and the right tools. I checked my belt: my sword was missing, but I could see the handle of the knife the swordsmith gave me. If I had any chance of beating this fake, I had to go at them with everything I had; I had to fight them like I wanted to kill them. I drew my knife, and felt the air around me cool a bit, the sun disappearing to make way for clouds and rain.
“That’s more like it, Avery Grey! Come at me with everything you have!” it said, the smile threatening to bleed off of its face.
I took a deep breath, feeling the cool rain on my skin, staring down my foe, this imposter, for what I hoped to be the last time. A rush of blood entered my brain and time dilated as I dashed forwards with every ounce of speed I had in me; before I knew it I was upon it, having tackled it to the ground. This might’ve been victory enough for some, but my enemy was tenacious, and it would just keep coming after me in my dreams and in the corners of my vision for the rest of my days unless I ended it right here. I stabbed downwards with the knife, and it caught my arms, fighting with all of its strength to keep my blade from piercing its heart. We struggled like this for what felt like an eternity, until the rage in my heart could handle no more; I headbutt the handle of the blade full force, sending it right into the chest of the doppelganger.
Its arms fell to its sides, and it sputtered blood from its mouth, the smile on its face finally beginning to fade a bit. I went back up to my knees, taking large gulps of air, feeling a sense of satisfaction over conquering this demon, until I looked back down. Staring up at me wasn’t my doppelganger, but Aera, her heart pierced, a smile on her face.
“I knew you could do it,” she said, before slipping into death’s embrace.
Suddenly, I was back in reality, standing over the corpse of Aera Lee. My special, hand-forged knife rested in her chest, and life was gone from her eyes; I heard no sound of blood running through her veins, or pumping through her chest. I looked down at my hands, and found her blood on my fingers, dripping. The clipboard rested near her face, and the check was still in her bloody hands. I could hear the sound of neighboring units moving about in their respective homes, and I wasn’t sure if she screamed or made a sound, so I grabbed the my knife and the check, the only evidence that I had been here, and jumped ten stories down to the ground before slipping down an alleyway and sprinting away as fast as I could.
