Double Double

by Background Bystander

4. Am I Going Up?

...You’re not insane.

Hmph, to think he could’ve been so blind, so unaware of the world that this thing was able to craft a persona right under his nose. Or should he say beside it, as was the building he was currently residing in. Chris could even see his window from his own room, beneath the rubble of the morning’s mess.

Using his own hobbies against him? It was a little clever to spy when he was busy tucked away on his computer or submerged within his headset, but that only made the bug horse scenario all the more confusing. Guess that’s the point of villains though, right? Having plans that make complete sense in their heads, but are generally really fucking dumb once you’ve given them some actual thought.

But this one, yes this one would work! He was sure of it! To simple to fail, all the right pieces will slide into place, to enter his place and give him back his face! He thought he looked good? What a disgrace! For he wasn’t one easy to replace, to disappear without a trace...but in order to pull it off, he must make haste with rapid pace!

He huffed as he walked in the building, slipping through the open doors from another student and calling an elevator. Why do I feel like a song’s bubbling in my throat? In which I exclaim how I shall be forever victorious?...Very weird. Standing and watching as the numbers slowly ticked down above the door, his boxy ticket back to normalcy squeaked to a halt and opened. The occupants filed out, most looking at their phones and not paying him much attention. Not that he cared, but c’mon, this skin should turn some heads at some point. Maybe he needed to tweak the jawline, or how far apart the eyes were.

No, he didn’t need to worry about that. It would be gone soon, physically at least.

Inside the elevator, clicking his hand on the button, it all seemed to take ages to complete. Eventually the door closed, and he was beginning his short ascent to the double’s dorm.

...You’re not insane.

How long had he been standing at the window, waiting? He wasn’t sure. It could’ve been minutes, maybe hours. He probably never even left, passed out on the floor.

The elevator shuddered as the ancient pulley system hoisted them upwards. He idly stood in the center, starting at the very stained steel. Black hair wrapped around his fingers. A small light blinked.

First floor.

He’d combed through one of the schools textbooks in the library for one of his general courses. A section discussing the human body and its many functions. The brain belonged to the nervous system, mainly the central. Along with cranial nerves and the spinal cord.

The topic of hallucinations was defined as “perception-like experiences that occur without an external stimulus, that are vivid and clear, with the full force and impact of normal perceptions, not under voluntary control.” Most cases are caused by substance abuse, be it pharmaceutical or recreational, and mental health issues, an example often given being schizophrenia. The most common form cited being audible.

His nose scrunched at a whiff of the old carpet in the box. Swaying again as it groaned from the engines and wires. He adjusted his footing, swishing his nonexistent tail as a stabilizer. Another small light blinked.

Second floor.

Deceit was something completely different, yet familiar at the same time, considering it dealt with the same organ. For something so complex to decipher, it was scarily easy to mold. Feed it enough persistent persuasion, the brain will be fooled into believing anything you tell it. Even if it’d already known the actual truth beforehand. The term coined for this is doublethink. An example would be fake news stories from multiple networks or even the first impressions of a conversation with a complete stranger.

However, unlike hallucinations, these inconsistencies were completely voluntary, knowing full well you were lying. And would leave the affected feeling just the same, rather than thinking their loose grip on reality was starting to slip.

Slipping.

Slipping.

Falling.

Falling.

Gone.

The simplest rule was to go by three. Hear it once, most give it a passing thought with little regard. Hear it a second time, it may taken on the notion of a coincidence, gaining their attention more and more as they fall under your spell. But on the third time, it becomes a pattern, taking mass and shape. Breathing oxygen and taking shits. My god, it’s real! It’s here! It’s now! How could we’ve been so blind?

The shriek of a screeching halt, followed by hissing and wheezing of great relief. The pulleys stopped and the light blinked once more.

Third floor.

His head lowered to the ground. Just take a step, the rest will follow. Falling into line, serving their purpose as they took him through the elongated hallways. Dragging a finger across the walls as more numbers flashed.

13...14...15

The finger crossed over the wood of the doorframe, touching the laminated sheet encasing a sheet of construction paper. Chris, it read. He looked up. 3-16.

His index finger curled across the others into a ball. The world went black for a moment and his body slumped with an exhale. He brought his hand back in preparation. The thought running through his head one last time.

...You’re not insane.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

The thumps echoed throughout the hall, mixing with the faint buzzing of the overhead lights. He took a step back from the door, his hands together at his front. Nothing.

He blinked and looked down at the cracked and worn graphics on his hoodie. He wiggled his arms inward, squishing his chest. He smirked.

A few quick steps, along with the shuffling of some objects could be heard, with “Just a sec...” trying to drown them out. The door swung open with a yank, wafting the odor of chemical lemons into his face, stabbing the inside of his nose repeatedly. The double appeared in the doorframe, wearing a clean pair of jeans and t-shirt, even keeping a pair of socks on. His jawline was clear with a reddish hue, as was the rest of his face. Creating a sort of racoon veneer to his wide and alert eyes.

The smell of his charcoal body wash was muffled by another smell, that of curiosity and fulfillment. Of hopes and desires that'd been stewing throughout the day. She came, they said, she actually came. And more of that wonderfully sweet aroma from the dining hall began to seep into the air, breathing it in through the tiny hole he made between his lips. It tickled him pink.

"Hey there." He made his voice a nice, calming tone.

The double's jaw didn't move, keeping its red hue as his wide eyes moved down his person.

"Huge tits-ah, I mean, hi Chris...sy? Nice to see you...again, h-how was class?"

He ran a hand through his hair in a relaxed arc. Making his face as cutesy as possible. "Glad it's over, psychology can be such a bore."

"Right? There's some many details and terms and shit to remember, it puts me to sleep just thinking about it."

Like you're one to forget details...let's see your place. "Hey, um, before we go, do you happen to have a drink or something? I'm a little thirsty."

"Oh sure, got a small fridge for that kinda stuff." He motioned with a hand. "Come on in, me casa es tu casa."

"Well, muchas gracias." He forced a girly giggle, walking in with his hand on the door handle.

The dorm was around the same size as his, with most of the differences due to the shape of building. The Thatcher Hall, the one he was staying in, was newer, only being built a few years ago. The countertops had more scratches and scuffs from previous students, and the wallpaper aged with the grace of spoiled milk. Smelled like it too, if you got close enough.

"I welcome thee to the court of Chris, thy newfound subject." He sighed, arms dropping to his side. "Like I said, it ain't luxury."

Please, I could show you a real court, with real subjects. Argh, what is that? It happened back at breakfast, too. He needed to stop thinking like that.

"So it seems, but you can't really choose those who have it before you."

"Yeah...that didn’t make the paperwork any easier." His waved a hand. "...But enough about that, what do want to drink? I’ll get it for you." He turned and walked over to the fridge.

"Oh! You have any of that coffee from the dining hall?"

He gave him a funny look. "Uuuh...no? I'm not siphoning coffee and storing it like some caffeine crazed doomsday prepper."

"Uh, right, I know...just messing around. I'll take a water, if you have it."

"A water? I should have one of thoooooose..." He drawled out, sticking his head inside and poking around.

Chris silently slid his hand over the lock, turning it with a muffled click.

The double piped up again. "So, how's Alaska?"

Oh, shoot, quick just make up something. "Oh...um, it's...big. And it's got, like...snow, and mountains. Snow on the mountains...maybe a moose here and there." I don't have time for this...meaningless drivel.

"Huh, that’s what I thought it was like. I've wanted to go for a while, just haven't had the money." He shut the fridge with a foot, holding two bottles. "Here, one for you, one for me."

"Thank you." He could still feel the aroma lingering around them, making his mouth water. He quickly licks his lips and gave him another cutesy look. "Didn't you say you were a freshman?" He took a few step closer to him.

"Yeah." The double uncapped it and took a swig. "Just graduated not too long ago, think it was back in-"

"May?"

"...Yup, that sounds about right. Pretty good guess, you graduate the same month?"

"Mmm hmm." He hummed softly and took another step, keeping close on the wall. He was able to get a glimpse over into the double's bedroom. The very messy, very familiar bedroom. As the flags and assorted memorabilia showed. The taste was getting stronger. "So, how was high school? If you don’t mind me asking.” Putting on a curious tone.

"Heh...uh..." Small talk was stumping the double. "I guess it wasn't too bad. I didn't mess with nobody, nobody messed with me, just sorta glided along until I had a piece of paper in my hand. I had a couple buddies here and there, but they all kinda went their own ways. We try to keep in touch, usually through the computer." That last part made his face a bit red. "Y'know, uh, you actually look kinda familiar, now that I think about it. I thought you resembled-"

"You're from Texas." He blurted. His body was beginning to fidget from pent up energy...pent up frustration. The last word has splashed a huge wave of that sweet goodness into the air, and he slurped it all down. It was amazing, invigorating, he felt like he could run for miles! Lift mountains! Squash this little shit into pieces! In his moment of excitement, he accidently smushed the bottle in his hand, making it explode all over the floor.

The double jumped slightly, and took a step back. "Y-Yeah, I am. How can you tell, is it the accent?"

"No...you're not originally from Texas, you're from Louisiana. You only moved there." He dropped the water in his hand and crept forward towards him, continually pointing a finger at him. "You moved there when you were eight, with your mom and your stepdad."

He recoiled in shock, nearly falling over. "W-What the-"

"While you were there, you found it hard to talk to others. You always felt like an outsider. Until you were eleven, when you met a boy named Roman Welles during basketball practice, he was the only kid in the neighborhood you knew who had the game you wanted and two controllers, so you two stuck by each other, eventually going into middle school...then high school..."

"H-H-How do you, h-"

"You had to give up the sport sophomore year due to a severely torn ACL, but he helped you recover as you found new interests...delving more into video games, comics, movies, many different forms of entertainment...but he had to go off to another college on a sports scholarship. But you still talk, y'know, through the computer..." He brought the finger to his chin. "Does that sound right?"

The double eyes were darting across the room, on the verge of a complete mental breakdown. "How do you know all of this?"

"Because I'm everything you are. I know what you've done, because I've done it. I know what you've said, because I've said it. I know what you like, what you hate, what you fear...everything you are as a human being, if you're even that to begin with."

He now had him pinned to the wall, choking him with a yank of his shirt collar as he glared up into his eyes. He was literally dripping with fear and confusion...oh, it tasted so raw, so pure! He was ripe for the pickings! He let out a serpent-like hiss, his tongue rattling. "Because for the longest time, I've been you...or rather..."

The green flame erupted around him, matching the intensity of his slobbering rage. Savoring every moment as he looked down to the speck caught between his hooves. The unfathomable, unexplainable terror caught within his face, as it would be plastered forever. Their heads nearly connecting as he roared.

"YOU'VE BEEN ME!"

Comments

[jasha3558021]

Espero los siguientes episodios con ansias
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

[Ali della Morte]

Great chapter

[Feynna]

The term coined for this is doublethink. An example would be fake news stories from multiple networks or even the first impressions of a conversation with a complete stranger.

Ahh... good ol' Orwell. Love the 1984 reference.