The thing that bothered her most about the man in the street, Stacey decided after dumping half of her dinner in the garbage, was the sensation of sameness she had experienced. Like that lunatic and her had something in common.
Was this - no, was he - what Anastasia had been longing for? If so, she thought with a laugh, her twin was going to be very disappointed.
Stacey had thought about calling Anastasia at her office to tell her about the man - for some reason she couldn't possibly explain she kept wanting to call him Ben - but in the end chose to save that conversation for the next day. She didn't have time for that tonight anyway, not if she was going to get to the hospital before dark.
Besides, she was not in the mood for another lecture from her wise older sister. They may have been alive for the same number of years, but Stacey had been born at the beginning, a baby, the way normal people were. She had developed faster than most but it wasn't until she reached her teen years that she could really come close to matching wits with Anastasia.
Anastasia, who had come into this world with the wisdom of an old woman. Where had that knowledge come from, anyway? And how utterly unfair was it to the rest of...
Stacey realized she was gripping her kitchen counter so hard that her knuckles had gone white. She forced herself to relax her grip, slow her breathing. Reminded herself that the tables would turn one day, that all of Ana's knowledge would do her little good as a baby in diapers. And, most importantly, it wasn't as though Ana had chosen this backward life of hers.
At least, Stacey was mostly certain of that.
She glanced at the digital clock on her stainless steel oven. Time to go. She pulled a black wool hat over her short blonde hair, then slipped into her heavy black winter coat. At the door of her apartment she grabbed thick black gloves, her keys, and a flashlight. After the briefest of hesitations she grabbed the expandable steel baton out of the hall closet. She had ordered it online a few weeks prior, what had felt like an impulse purchase at the time. But she was beginning to trust these impulses more and more.
"Just in case," she said as opened the door and stepped into the hallway, the lights of her apartment dimming automatically behind her. "Just in case."
I like the back-story being introduced here, especially the hints of resentment (I'm not surprised either, I think I'd be resentful if my life didn't seem to be quite my own to live) and the details of how Stacey lives. She seems resourceful, and I suspect she's going to need it this year! All the little details here are good: the whitening of the fingers gripping the counter, the steel baton, the thick gloves... lovely writing.
Mine: Ben shook his head, wishing that the headache would go away, and ran his hand over his face. He'd shaved that morning and there was barely even five o'clock shadow there, but his fingers could still feel David's ragged beard as well. It contributed to the headache. His breathing was ragged and his heart was pounding in his chest, and he knew without having to be there that David was panicking about something. Again. Probably Ben, in fact, since he'd left without telling him where he was going. Not that it mattered; just like David was always somehow present in Ben's mind so he was always somehow present in David's. And David just wasn't going to let go. The silent corridors of the Crimson Falls hospital were a blessing, and the lack of electricity meant that the only light was the white brightness from the torch function on his phone. He pointed it at the floor, partly so he could see where he was going, and partly so that the light bounced off the floor and didn't hurt his eyes as much. There was a path through the dust here that he'd scraped clean from constantly visiting, and the building was sound -- no fallen rubble or broken chairs littering the place. Some of the rooms still had green curtains, rotting away in peace, and machinery it hadn't been worth reclaiming, but they were on the lower floors. Here on the top floor there had been mostly executive offices, and they'd been stripped neatly bare. Ben rubbed his chin again, feeling a stab of pain in his left temple as the cognitive dissonance of feeling a beard that wasn't there assaulted him, and felt something wet. He lifted the phone and checked: there was blood on his finger. His or David's? Impossible to tell, and that ought to be impossible. It would be for other... for normal people. There were two other rooms up here on the top floor, it had only mostly been executive offices after all. There was the bloodwork laboratory, which he was passing now. He tilted the phone, as he always did, to read the odd sign on the door: Phlebotomisty Right next door to the Chief Operating Officer's office. And the door was still locked and strong and he'd not been able to find a way in. Further along there were only two doors left: the CEO's, and the steel one. The one he had found the key for, and which he guarded jealously. Even David didn't know about the key, and keeping a secret from his... twin? anti-twin? like that probably caused half the problems between them.
The key slipped into the lock smoothly and he turned it, three times clockwise. Each turn sounded and felt like it was the only one needed, but the door wouldn't open unless you got it exactly right. He depressed the handle, which did nothing -- the door still seemed locked; and then he released it and did it again. Only now did the door open. If you didn't know about this it was probably impossible to get in. Ben rubbed his face, and felt suddenly cold. David was... outside, in the snow. He hoped he wouldn't spend too long out there. Then he was back in the hospital and he wondered if the bloodwork laboratory was like this too: secret combinations of keys and handles to get in. He went in and closed and locked the door behind him. As the lock clicked into place he felt a sudden anguish and an emptiness as though he'd not eaten in days. He felt hollow and lost; all sense of David was gone from him and there was just Ben inside Ben's head.
[David groaned, a loud, visceral sound, and fell to his knees in the snowy car-park. Tears spilled from his eyes and his wrapped his arms around himself, hugging himself tightly as he hoped and prayed that this was just one of those odd periods of separation and that Ben hadn't killed himself this time. The car-keys fell from his fingers, and passers-by looked over, wondering if they should be concerned.]
Ben turned his phone's torch off, and the room was completely dark for a moment. Then a faint crimson glow started from the middle of the room, something like a tall pillar resolving as he looked at it. It widened and spread until it was something like a gateway: tall, arched pillars surrounding a space that the crimson glow emanated from. It grew a little stronger before stabilising; just enough that Ben could see the man slumped in the chair. It was a desk chair of some kind, and there was a keyboard lying across his thighs, but his head and shoulders had fallen backwards as though he was asleep. He wasn't always there when Ben came in, but his twin (or anti-twin, or... whatever they were) was. Always. Because he was dead, sprawled on the floor against the far wall, stabbed through the heart with a scalpel. The headache blossomed into colours of fire and the smell of tin and Ben realised that he wasn't going to be able to spend any time in here today. The separation from David was simply too strong and he'd been weak even before trying to come here. He made himself walk, unsteadily, across the room. Beyond the gateway, which he avoided as though it were electrified, was a desk, and he pulled open the drawers. Something in here had to explain what had happened, he was sure of it. There were two brochures in the top drawer, glossy in the crimson glow, so he pulled them free and then staggered back to the door. Getting the key in the lock was hard, and he was swallowing, trying not to throw up, as he worked the turns and the handle. Only when the door opened did the pain subside a little, and he was able to lock the door once more and stagger through the opposite door into the CEO's office, fall onto the floor, and try and look at the brochures.
Stacey pulled into the parking lot and parked under a lamp. The lamps were dim with dust, but better than nothing. The parking lot receded into inky blackness at the edges. She climbed out of the car and headed purposefully towards the old hospital. There was a pile of old clothing on the far side of the pool of lamp light. She nearly screamed when the clothing moved and she looked down into the face of a man in agony. Tears were running down his face and he muttered unintelligibly. She was moving around him when she caught a few words. "Twin ... disappeared ... can't feel him ..."
She bent down and got an arm around the man. "Here, man, let's get you into my warm car. You'll freeze out here, crouching in the snow." He resisted, a little, but she soon had him bundled into her car with a thermos cup of hot chocolate in his hands. She had come prepared, knowing the hospital would be cold and she would be shivering when she was done with her visit.
He sipped the hot chocolate and looked at her gratefully. "Thank you. I'm glad you found me before I froze."
"I'm Stacy. I have a twin I can feel, too. I think we should talk. What were you saying about your twin disappearing?"
He looked at her more warily. "I see I said some things I shouldn't have there. I was very cold. Let's leave it at that."
"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. "I know you have a twin you can feel. Don't lie to me. What is going on here?"
This time he looked resigned. "My name is David and I have a twin I can feel in my head. He came here today without telling me. I followed him. He disappeared from my head a while ago and it was agony, but he's back now. I don't know why he disappears every so long. Now maybe you can tell me what you're doing here and how you know about twins you can feel in your head."
Stacy glanced in the rear view mirror as she thought about how to reply to David. A large man was just coming out of the hospital. She yanked open her door, exclaiming "I think your twin is here!" as she darted across the parking lot.
David got out of the car more slowly. This night was not going at all as he had planned. He hoped the strange woman was having a better night. He tried not to think about Ben even as he crossed the parking lot toward him. What were they going to do now?
Really liked your description of the hospital. I'd hoped to get there with mine but decided that would have been too much to try to squeeze in. I'm glad I left it in your capable hands!
Also: the details of Ben and David's relationship are excellent.
The locked room is intriguing, as are the brochures found within. You've given us lots to work with here!
Morganna - ah, you've managed to get the three of them together, nicely done. I wonder what shall become of this meeting...
5 comments:
The thing that bothered her most about the man in the street, Stacey decided after dumping half of her dinner in the garbage, was the sensation of sameness she had experienced. Like that lunatic and her had something in common.
Was this - no, was he - what Anastasia had been longing for? If so, she thought with a laugh, her twin was going to be very disappointed.
Stacey had thought about calling Anastasia at her office to tell her about the man - for some reason she couldn't possibly explain she kept wanting to call him Ben - but in the end chose to save that conversation for the next day. She didn't have time for that tonight anyway, not if she was going to get to the hospital before dark.
Besides, she was not in the mood for another lecture from her wise older sister. They may have been alive for the same number of years, but Stacey had been born at the beginning, a baby, the way normal people were. She had developed faster than most but it wasn't until she reached her teen years that she could really come close to matching wits with Anastasia.
Anastasia, who had come into this world with the wisdom of an old woman. Where had that knowledge come from, anyway? And how utterly unfair was it to the rest of...
Stacey realized she was gripping her kitchen counter so hard that her knuckles had gone white. She forced herself to relax her grip, slow her breathing. Reminded herself that the tables would turn one day, that all of Ana's knowledge would do her little good as a baby in diapers. And, most importantly, it wasn't as though Ana had chosen this backward life of hers.
At least, Stacey was mostly certain of that.
She glanced at the digital clock on her stainless steel oven. Time to go. She pulled a black wool hat over her short blonde hair, then slipped into her heavy black winter coat. At the door of her apartment she grabbed thick black gloves, her keys, and a flashlight. After the briefest of hesitations she grabbed the expandable steel baton out of the hall closet. She had ordered it online a few weeks prior, what had felt like an impulse purchase at the time. But she was beginning to trust these impulses more and more.
"Just in case," she said as opened the door and stepped into the hallway, the lights of her apartment dimming automatically behind her. "Just in case."
I like the back-story being introduced here, especially the hints of resentment (I'm not surprised either, I think I'd be resentful if my life didn't seem to be quite my own to live) and the details of how Stacey lives. She seems resourceful, and I suspect she's going to need it this year! All the little details here are good: the whitening of the fingers gripping the counter, the steel baton, the thick gloves... lovely writing.
Mine:
Ben shook his head, wishing that the headache would go away, and ran his hand over his face. He'd shaved that morning and there was barely even five o'clock shadow there, but his fingers could still feel David's ragged beard as well. It contributed to the headache. His breathing was ragged and his heart was pounding in his chest, and he knew without having to be there that David was panicking about something. Again. Probably Ben, in fact, since he'd left without telling him where he was going. Not that it mattered; just like David was always somehow present in Ben's mind so he was always somehow present in David's. And David just wasn't going to let go.
The silent corridors of the Crimson Falls hospital were a blessing, and the lack of electricity meant that the only light was the white brightness from the torch function on his phone. He pointed it at the floor, partly so he could see where he was going, and partly so that the light bounced off the floor and didn't hurt his eyes as much. There was a path through the dust here that he'd scraped clean from constantly visiting, and the building was sound -- no fallen rubble or broken chairs littering the place. Some of the rooms still had green curtains, rotting away in peace, and machinery it hadn't been worth reclaiming, but they were on the lower floors. Here on the top floor there had been mostly executive offices, and they'd been stripped neatly bare.
Ben rubbed his chin again, feeling a stab of pain in his left temple as the cognitive dissonance of feeling a beard that wasn't there assaulted him, and felt something wet. He lifted the phone and checked: there was blood on his finger. His or David's? Impossible to tell, and that ought to be impossible. It would be for other... for normal people.
There were two other rooms up here on the top floor, it had only mostly been executive offices after all. There was the bloodwork laboratory, which he was passing now. He tilted the phone, as he always did, to read the odd sign on the door: Phlebotomisty Right next door to the Chief Operating Officer's office. And the door was still locked and strong and he'd not been able to find a way in.
Further along there were only two doors left: the CEO's, and the steel one. The one he had found the key for, and which he guarded jealously. Even David didn't know about the key, and keeping a secret from his... twin? anti-twin? like that probably caused half the problems between them.
[Double-posting, but you knew I would]
The key slipped into the lock smoothly and he turned it, three times clockwise. Each turn sounded and felt like it was the only one needed, but the door wouldn't open unless you got it exactly right. He depressed the handle, which did nothing -- the door still seemed locked; and then he released it and did it again. Only now did the door open. If you didn't know about this it was probably impossible to get in. Ben rubbed his face, and felt suddenly cold. David was... outside, in the snow. He hoped he wouldn't spend too long out there. Then he was back in the hospital and he wondered if the bloodwork laboratory was like this too: secret combinations of keys and handles to get in.
He went in and closed and locked the door behind him. As the lock clicked into place he felt a sudden anguish and an emptiness as though he'd not eaten in days. He felt hollow and lost; all sense of David was gone from him and there was just Ben inside Ben's head.
[David groaned, a loud, visceral sound, and fell to his knees in the snowy car-park. Tears spilled from his eyes and his wrapped his arms around himself, hugging himself tightly as he hoped and prayed that this was just one of those odd periods of separation and that Ben hadn't killed himself this time. The car-keys fell from his fingers, and passers-by looked over, wondering if they should be concerned.]
Ben turned his phone's torch off, and the room was completely dark for a moment. Then a faint crimson glow started from the middle of the room, something like a tall pillar resolving as he looked at it. It widened and spread until it was something like a gateway: tall, arched pillars surrounding a space that the crimson glow emanated from. It grew a little stronger before stabilising; just enough that Ben could see the man slumped in the chair. It was a desk chair of some kind, and there was a keyboard lying across his thighs, but his head and shoulders had fallen backwards as though he was asleep. He wasn't always there when Ben came in, but his twin (or anti-twin, or... whatever they were) was. Always. Because he was dead, sprawled on the floor against the far wall, stabbed through the heart with a scalpel.
The headache blossomed into colours of fire and the smell of tin and Ben realised that he wasn't going to be able to spend any time in here today. The separation from David was simply too strong and he'd been weak even before trying to come here. He made himself walk, unsteadily, across the room. Beyond the gateway, which he avoided as though it were electrified, was a desk, and he pulled open the drawers. Something in here had to explain what had happened, he was sure of it. There were two brochures in the top drawer, glossy in the crimson glow, so he pulled them free and then staggered back to the door. Getting the key in the lock was hard, and he was swallowing, trying not to throw up, as he worked the turns and the handle. Only when the door opened did the pain subside a little, and he was able to lock the door once more and stagger through the opposite door into the CEO's office, fall onto the floor, and try and look at the brochures.
Stacey pulled into the parking lot and parked under a lamp. The lamps were dim with dust, but better than nothing. The parking lot receded into inky blackness at the edges. She climbed out of the car and headed purposefully towards the old hospital. There was a pile of old clothing on the far side of the pool of lamp light. She nearly screamed when the clothing moved and she looked down into the face of a man in agony. Tears were running down his face and he muttered unintelligibly. She was moving around him when she caught a few words. "Twin ... disappeared ... can't feel him ..."
She bent down and got an arm around the man. "Here, man, let's get you into my warm car. You'll freeze out here, crouching in the snow." He resisted, a little, but she soon had him bundled into her car with a thermos cup of hot chocolate in his hands. She had come prepared, knowing the hospital would be cold and she would be shivering when she was done with her visit.
He sipped the hot chocolate and looked at her gratefully. "Thank you. I'm glad you found me before I froze."
"I'm Stacy. I have a twin I can feel, too. I think we should talk. What were you saying about your twin disappearing?"
He looked at her more warily. "I see I said some things I shouldn't have there. I was very cold. Let's leave it at that."
"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. "I know you have a twin you can feel. Don't lie to me. What is going on here?"
This time he looked resigned. "My name is David and I have a twin I can feel in my head. He came here today without telling me. I followed him. He disappeared from my head a while ago and it was agony, but he's back now. I don't know why he disappears every so long. Now maybe you can tell me what you're doing here and how you know about twins you can feel in your head."
Stacy glanced in the rear view mirror as she thought about how to reply to David. A large man was just coming out of the hospital. She yanked open her door, exclaiming "I think your twin is here!" as she darted across the parking lot.
David got out of the car more slowly. This night was not going at all as he had planned. He hoped the strange woman was having a better night. He tried not to think about Ben even as he crossed the parking lot toward him. What were they going to do now?
Greg - thanks, glad you liked it :)
Really liked your description of the hospital. I'd hoped to get there with mine but decided that would have been too much to try to squeeze in. I'm glad I left it in your capable hands!
Also: the details of Ben and David's relationship are excellent.
The locked room is intriguing, as are the brochures found within. You've given us lots to work with here!
Morganna - ah, you've managed to get the three of them together, nicely done. I wonder what shall become of this meeting...
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