Dead Twin Sister

by Jack Wallen

  As if that were about to happen. The Seduction mocked truth and held fast to one driving principle—consumption. If you were in its way, you were fuel for the nightmare machine.

  No matter. I’d been here before and bested my surroundings; I could do it again.

  Somehow, I sensed another one of The Seduction’s many inhabitants attempting to sneak up on me. Right before the bastard appeared, I formed the Grog mudra and dared the motherfucker to draw up anywhere near. I pressed onward, pushing my legs to reach a pace I could only make happen within the confines of this non-linear construct.

  The faster and farther I ran, the less things made sense—which was no mean feat within The Dark Seduction. Should the new world order make even less sense, madness would most surely follow.

  From above, a thundercloud crashed and opened up a flood of bloody rain; my clothing soaked up the discolored horror. With each step, my feet grew heavy with crimson mud, until I could no longer move forward.

  “Thessia!” I called out, hoping my mentor could save me from that which blocked my approach. The Seduction was doing everything in its power to prevent me from reaching the house. Somehow it knew, which sealed the fate that my doppelgänger was in league with Vau-eal.

  My effort bore fruit. Standing before me, serving to mock my situation, was the house in question. I was fewer than one hundred yards away from salvation. No matter how much effort I exerted, I could not move further.

  Come on, girl. Don’t let a little muck stop you from reaching the first steps of your enlightenment.

  “Great, Al, now you’re starting to sound like Yoda without the convolution of words. A very long way, would a little help go.” I was afraid spirit Al wouldn’t take my plea seriously. “No, seriously, Al … help!”

  I couldn’t believe I was begging for help from the disembodied voice of my dear friend and colleague. In that moment, my life had developed so many puppet strings and was controlled by myriad limbs … from all walks of life and multiple dimensions.

  My feet slammed against the broken and brittle Earth—dried hard and fast by the now blistering sun, kicking up a rooster tail of dust along the way. Nothing would stop me at this point. Fuck The Dark Seduction. Al was right; a little sentient mud wasn’t going to stop me. My bravery pressed down against my cowardice, sending doubt packing. I was ten feet from the house when another member of The Seduction’s menagerie arrived—this time in the form of a beautiful, exotic male. He was tall and dark-skinned, with a mane of ebony hair flowing halfway down his back. Whoever he was, he was gorgeous.

  The lovely creature gestured for me to draw near. Something stirred at the pit of my stomach—while coaxing me onward, it begged me to run.

  “Come nearer to me, my dear.” The voice was buttery smooth; a concoction of caramel and chocolate, simultaneously smooth and excited. I wanted the voice to wrap itself around me so I might live in its velvety seclusion.

  I took one step closer before realizing my mistake. The man coaxing me forward was my truest, darkest enemy.

  “Vau-eal,” I spat.

  “In the flesh.”

  Before I had time to react, the creature had my throat in his grasp, clamping down over my larynx—aka, the money maker. I swung a solitary punch and missed. My right foot flew upward, toward the bastard’s crotch. Once again, I failed. My last, best hope lay in my hands. Without drawing attention to my action, I formed the Grog mudra and sent a wave of energy outward, knocking Vau-eal to the ground. Before the bastard had a second to react, I sprinted off—toward the house.

  Just as I arrived, the door was tossed open. I dove in. Beyond the threshold, I heard the door slam behind me. In an instant, the outside world was, for many an understandable reason, locked away.

  “H-he’s out there,” I gasped.

  “Who?”

  Thessia stood, arms crossed, and her face twisted into a knot of despair.

  “You know who, Thess.”

  “Yes, I do. Vau-eal.” Thessia turned and imbued the door with a spell. I didn’t recognize either the gesture or the spoken words. What my mentor had done was well above both our pay grades. Clearly, The Dark Seduction had woven itself into the warp and weft of Thessia’s magical talents.

  “What was that, Thess?”

  “A shadow spell to temporarily prevent that bastard from seeing this home. We have a very short amount of time before he breaks it.” Thessia pulled me into a tight embrace. “Why are you here and not kicking the doppelgänger into oblivion?”

  “For some reason, I couldn’t return,” I confessed.

  Thessia stared into some void or other, searching for an answer or a solution—considering what may be at stake, I was hoping for both.

  “It’s her. The doppelgänger’s presence on The Planar Mortalis is preventing you from occupying the same realm.”

  “Extra-dimensional quantum mechanics?”

  Thess shook her head. “Not exactly. This is the Pauli exclusion principle; two identical fermions cannot occupy the same quantum state simultaneously.”

  “As interesting as that sounds, I don’t really have time for science. We need to figure out how to get me back to my reality so I can save Drew.”

  Thessia stepped back and addressed me, once again in mentor mode. “But it is science that will save the day, my dear. You cannot reach The Planar Mortalis in your current form.”

  “Human? What does that mean? You’re not going to send me back as a—”

  “Ghost, so to speak.” Thessia began yet another ritual I did not recognize.

  The idea of ghosting me had absolutely zero appeal. I liked my body, liked living in my own skin. Before Thess could complete the ritual, I grabbed her hands. “I’m all for doing everything possible, but dying for this cause? That might be a bit much. If I’m gone—”

  Thessia smiled. “I’m not going to kill you, Grog. You have a traveler within you, one dear enough to carry your spirit across the dimensional divide and help you destroy the dead twin sister.”

  Al. The idea of endangering that gentle man’s soul sent a wash of panic to and through my heart. Before I could voice my concern, an all-too-familiar whisper returned to me.

  It’s the only way, luv. Besides, if I can’t have one final kick ass moment with you, my death would have been pointless.

  Those words wrenched and empowered my heart. Al had always been a giver; now he was willing to give the only thing he had remaining to ensure I could protect the living I loved.

  “When we take this bitch down, Al, you and I are going to share a pint. I don’t give a shit if ghosts can’t drink … we’ll find a way.”

  If anyone can, it’s you.

  I nodded to Thessia. “We’re ready.”

  “Velum mittet contra tales. Ignescunt animis eos in hostem auxilium petunt,” Thessia recited in a monotone mumble.

  The world stretched, grew smaller and then larger than one life could accommodate. Sensory overload mocked my current state and threatened to render my every sense impotent. One second I couldn’t hear; the next, I heard everything. I was blind, and then I saw it all. Numbness overwhelmed my flesh before every caress was deadly.

  Al’s disembodied voice shouted in reverse. Yrc covah dna tel pils eht sgod fo raw! I couldn’t discern the words, but the emotional appeal was obvious.

  I willed myself loose from my physical being, while at the same time offering a prayer to Buddha. “O Blessed One, Shakyamuni Buddha, precious treasury of compassion, bestower of supreme inner peace. You, who love all beings without exception, are the source of happiness and goodness; And you guide us to the liberating path.”

  It was the only prayer I could think of, in the moment, and it offered me just enough peace to finally—and completely—let go.

  The Dark Seduction slipped away from reality and spiraled into emptiness. While the world around Al and me paused, it dawned on me that the spell could have failed, leaving both of us stranded within some spectral causality loop. I wanted to cry out, b
eg Al to anchor us to something … anything. I opened my mouth to shout and found myself incapable of creating even the slightest sound.

  And then … darkness. Not the darkness found between realms, where the monsters did lurk. This absence of illumination was fueled by innocence.

  Someone turned out the lights, Al said, with a whimsical lilt.

  That’s when it dawned on me … where we were.

  “The studio.”

  I stood on rubbery legs, held my arms out before me, and stumbled until palms met the unyielding surface of a wall. My fingers landed on the nearest light switch, but my incorporeal form had no effect on the physical plane. This was one of those moments I wished the cat suit would imbue me with feline superpowers. Unfortunately, that was not meant to be; my eyes remained very much human and the lights … very much off. Once I was acclimated to the surrounding darkness, I was able to discern we were, in fact, in the recording studio—alone. Instruments were packed away and the walls were silent, refusing to tell their stories about the day’s delights.

  A clock, hanging above the exit, read 8PM.

  “There’s no way Drew is at home.” I said—or at least I assumed I’d said. It was impossible to know if the vibrations from my ghostly cords managed to produce actual sound.

  I heard you, luv, Al confirmed I had an effect on someone, or something—the boundary between fiction and fantasy had vanished, leaving me to guess at what could hear my voice or see my form. At this point both truth and lies were a wash.

  If I were to venture a guess, Drew had taken the doppelgänger, Dizzy, and Bella out for a bite or a drink … or both. We existed in the heart of a sprawling city, filled with every conceivable type of bar and diner—there’d be no way we’d find that particular needle in such a haystack.

  Once I gave up on immediately chasing Drew down, a singular question came to mind: Where should this battle be waged? That is, of course, assuming there would be a battle. I had no way of knowing what would happen should the doppelgänger become aware of my arrival.

  Should. That’s laughable. The bitch had been one step ahead of me since she first crawled from the shadows; why would I manage to gain the upper hand at this point?

  I felt defeat begin to well in my gut. I’d fought this crushing sensation back so many times before, but this go-round seemed to have significantly more power over my psyche. “Now what?”

  Listen.

  “I don’t understand, Al.” I’d been listening to him—and my surroundings—since I’d escaped The Dark Seduction. Not one thing had given me that ah ha moment. How could I know what Al meant? However, to this point, my spirit guide had yet to steer me wrong. With that in mind, I did as told. At first there was nothing outside of the usual noises from a shuttered room. Considering this particular building was built for a future of acoustical silence, what few noises were offered up only barely registered. When nothing more came, I focused as much energy as possible into the listening, remembering one of my earliest lessons from a Buddhist monk.

  Listen deeply.

  I concentrated my whole heart and complete presence to truly hear what the room wanted me to know. At first there was nothing. Moments passed by, long enough to challenge my resolve, until finally some thread of sound rose from the silence.

  My voice—rather, my singing voice, spilled from the structural memory embedded within the walls of the studio; only it wasn’t really me, but a fairly reasonable representation singing the music from the band’s new album. Although the timbre and tone were spot on, something else existed within the voice, some aberrant tonality that wouldn’t normally be picked up by the unassisted ear. Seeing as how I was an expert on my voice, I could speak that with a certain level of confidence.

  Beneath the words, wrapped within the notes, there was a siren song tucked away, ready to unleash itself on the unsuspecting listener. No hidden message would be discovered, no backward masked call to death or fealty to some dark lord. This was far worse. As I listened to the extraneous noise, the need to unmake threatened me; a certain rage begged the listener to do its bidding. Had it not been for Al’s presence, there’d be no telling what I might have done.

  “What is her endgame, Al?” I asked with as much a measure of calm as I was capable in the moment.

  A call to arms.

  Al’s simple reply spoke volumes. My dead twin sister was planning on bringing forth an army … but to what end?

  Now is not the time for deconstruction, Grog.

  He was right—again. Being mentally bested by a dead man was growing tiresome.

  It could be worse, Al revved up for the punch line. I could be ghostsplaining.

  A warm chuckle escaped my lips. “I love you, Al.”

  And I you.

  The walls told their story; as I’d expected, the doppelgänger had some very big tricks up her maleficent sleeve. As the sounds accosted my ears, I was overcome by a surge of every possible emotion—from longing to fulfillment, from hatred to love, from joy to sorrow. My heart and mind were inundated and threatened to cave. I was losing what little control I had over my spiritual self. Not even an om or chant would keep me from falling into an early and shallow grave.

  The world is too big for one life and time is never on our side. Al sang inside my head. The world is too big for one life and time is never on our side. I lived a whole life through the moment I first saw you and my hunger won’t be denied.

  The melody and lyrics of the older song gave me the strength I needed to block the sound of the doppelgänger’s voice. Sense and order ebbed back into my being.

  “Thank you, my friend.”

  Just doing what I do. Since ghosts can’t hold drumsticks, I figured the best use of my time was saving your ass—bad as it is. If incorporeal beings could smile, the wonder of Al’s grin would be shining down upon me. So, Grog, what’s the plan?

  “We wait for the return of the crew and then take the bitch down.”

  And how do we accomplish that particular task?

  “By any means possible.”

  Let her come to you. Let the battle be waged within an empire of your making.

  The spirit of Al was right—within the walls of this studio, I was Queen. Let the bitch come and I will end her.

  With a modicum of comfort on our side and shadows in which to hide, we two ghosts waited for daybreak to deliver the enemy.

  FIFTEEN

  Polygonal beings stacked up on life’s shelves and all their demons unknown even to themselves

  I thought we were done. I’d recorded everything necessary to complete the ritual and open the gate from The Dark Seduction. The last thing I needed was Drew poking his face back into the studio. And then there was Tony—the bastard with the ears capable of discerning the undertones of the overlord. This was a tricky position. Should I protest too much, Drew could grow suspicious and question my motives—at which point my only recourse would be his death. That would not do … at least not until the release of the sonic call to chaos. My very own big bada boom.

  The bedroom door opened a crack to reveal Drew’s bright eyes and smile—both of which I could snuff out with a single thought.

  Patience, I counseled myself. His time will come.

  “Hidy ho, doll face. We’ve got a long day of listening ahead of us. Grab yourself some breakfast and we’ll be off.”

  The bastard didn’t wait for a response and left me alone with my thoughts of pain and retribution.

  “You will suffer my wrath,” I whispered, slipping out of the bed and into clothing unfit for my station. “Once the gate is open, I will call forth my sisters to rain down death and claim this realm for the one true God.”

  Again the door opened. “Any time, luv.” Drew’s voice hinted at the slightest annoyance.

  “Fuck.” I fumbled my first attempt at slipping on a shoe. “I’m coming.”

  “Princess needs her coffee.” Drew snapped his fingers and left my sight.

  I had no choice but to comply.
After completing the ritual of dressing, I made my way to the kitchen to find Drew pouring coffee—like clockwork in a watch—and Bella in an all-too-obvious flirtation with anyone who might partake. The second I walked into the room, Dizzy did his thing with the camera. This I had to avoid. No way in hell would I discover the means to mask my truth from that damnable device.

  “Not now, Dizzy.” I raised my open palm to block the lens.

  “But Gordon—”

  “I don’t give a filthy fuck what Gordon says, I don’t want that bloody camera on me at this particular moment. Shut it down—otherwise, I’ll smash it to pieces and make you clean the mess.”

  Without another word, or bothering to address anyone else in the room, I grabbed a plateful of cooked flesh and a cup of hot, black liquid.

  Bella pointed to my plate. “I thought—”

  “And that would be your first big mistake, blondie. Thinking isn’t your strong suit.”

  The girl shrank in her seat, a look of abject rejection plastered across her face.

  “Grog,” Drew called out from behind. “A word, if you will.”

  I snapped around to face the man, ready to send my fist through his skull. “What?” I shouted, my voice far too loud for reason.

  Drew insisted I follow him back to my bedroom. When we arrived, he shut the door behind us and glared as if snakes would spill from his eye sockets. “You need to get your shit together. I realize you’ve gone a bit mental, but that’s no reason—”

  And that was that. I couldn’t contain my rage any longer. No human had ever—or would ever—attempt to control me. My hands cupped Drew’s skull and sent him crashing to the floor like a broken puppet. “How dare you presume to be worthy of speaking to one such as I in that manner? You will kneel before me and proclaim your fealty to my cause or your life is forfeit.”