by Rei Fletcher
"I didn't realise it was you." Ash smoothed her dress. Her eyes travelled over the room, unreadable. "When I saw you in the gas station I felt like I ought to know you. But I've lived long enough that I've seen the same faces. They're like ghosts, sometimes, of the people I knew." She looked at Marianne. "But it was really you."
"I'm only me because of you."
Ash reached for her and Marianne hugged tight.
"Is that why you and I hooked up?"
"I take lovers, my darling, I do not hook up." And she laughed when Marianne squirmed. Her laugh was lighter. Her voice was a little different after all. Young Ash's voice with her Ash's spirit. "We're together because of who we are. Nothing less."
"You know I have to kill it."
Ash sighed and sat up, fingers clinging to Marianne's. They were different; even though she was young and they were maybe the same shape they felt rougher, with a knick here or there. Marianne felt the human of them. Isn't this what she should want? But Ash was Ash, rough or smooth.
"I didn't realise it was necessary to kill your own doppelgänger."
Marianne looked around the empty house. "What happens to you after this? You're going to be all alone."
"I found a way to survive."
Marianne touched her neck lightly, and Ash nodded.
"I'm sorry."
"I regret many things. Finding a way to live long enough to meet you isn't one of them." She looked down. "Marianne?"
"Yeah?"
"I have to tell you something."
"Can we trust that door not to change again?"
Ash hesitated, then relented. "Ah. True." Ash stood, and helped her up. "Let's go back, my Marianne."
"Oh, god, do we ever have to go back. Should we have a plan?"
Ash made a face. An adorable face. She was gorgeous as a vampire, but she'd been a really cute human. Marianne plucked a bit of straw from her hair. Ash's arm snaked around her waist. The warmth of her, the sounds of her as a human: she was different, yes, but she thought they fit together either way.
"I think we'd best concentrate on getting out of its nest first, then work on that part. If it has to be you, I want you as safe as possible." Ash gave her a little squeeze.
Don't let go.
Ash kept hold of her hand. They ran through the doorway. She was expecting resistance, and hit the far side of the hallway of her childhood house, hard enough to hurt her shoulder. The breathing filled her ears. She looked at Ash. The difference was stark, now that she'd seen her as a human. The unearthly perfection of her. The beauty. The relief.
"Are you okay?"
Ash nodded. "I was a little worried, there, that I'd have to transform again."
"It's...that rough, huh?"
Ash shuddered. "It is." Then her shoulders squared. "Which way, my girl?"
She looked up and down the hall. "The stairs should be this way. The dimensions are all wrong, though."
They started in the direction she thought the stairs were. It was immediately clear that the house was messing with them. They passed doors that looked like room doors, gold-toned knobs gleaming. They were as blunt and non-functional as if they'd grown out of the solid door. They walked for a good ten minutes before they saw the end. Another door was framed in the darkness, instead of a staircase. Marianne slowed down.
"What is it?"
"It's my room. It shouldn't be here."
Ash's eyes ran over the bland corridor.
"I think we might have to spring its trap."
"Trap?"
"Wherever we are, it's in control." Ash touched her face. "Are you ready?"
She took a deep breath. "I want it to end. I want it dead."
The knob was cool under her hand, metal, turning smoothly.
It was exactly as she remembered it. The furniture was white wicker. All along one wall were white shelves. Pink boxes with gingham lining marched neatly between sections of books, full of toys and art supplies. A stack of duotangs was on her desk. Homework. the subjects were carefully written in her lopsided hand. Ballerinas danced across the strawberry milkshake walls. Her boots looked cruel on the pale carpet. She watched Ash wander the room. When she came to the cork board she carefully straightened a piece of drawing paper pinned to it. Marianne flushed.
"Little girls like unicorns."
"It's cute. You...really liked pink."
"My mom was into decorating the house. It was mostly her work."
"You liked it, though."
She touched the white cotton eyelet canopy of her princess bed.
"I guess I did. It was home. It was everything that I knew. But this is just an illusion. It was then, too. I was just too young to realise it. And mom couldn't keep it going for me. It was impossible to go back to, but I couldn't leave it behind. Even if it was a lie."
"You were a wee child. It was her job to look after you, not the other way round."
"She tried."
"I have my sympathy for her, but she failed, just the same."
"It's hard to figure it all out. And when you're young, all the ground under you just...vanishes and you're too young to understand."
"It's different when you're old enough to control your fate."
"I tried. With school and everything."
"Try again."
She looked at Ash quickly. She shrugged.
"Find a way like I did. Just...keep going."
"I'm a little scared. Of the future. It showed me something terrible."
"You can't believe it. They lie and lie, and if it tells the truth it's to serve itself and its master."
"Now, why would I do something so evil as telling lies?"
Marianne turned, and turned again. The doppelgänger's voice floated disembodied, until it finally appeared, leaning against the wall.
Ash was a blur, burying her knife in its stomach. It laughed and pushed her off with power enough to make her stagger back. They watched as it slowly pulled the knife out and tossed it aside. The wound sealed shut.
"Aw. We liked this shirt, didn't we, Marianne? We just had to steal it from the shitty little discount department store we found it in. Remember that? Remember how scared you were that you'd get caught?"
"So? So what?"
The doppelgänger twirled across the carpet. "All of your princess dreams, Marianne! I can feel your hate even now. You hate your father for dying. You hate your mom for drinking away your future."
"I do not! It wasn't his fault! It wasn't hers."
The doppelgänger cocked its head, hands on its hips like a scolding parent. "Now, now. I thought we didn't like lies."
"I'm not. It wasn't their fault."
"Sure it was. Dirty little secret, wasn't it? All those bottles in the garage that you had for the bottle drives. The hockey teams loved coming to this house. How many had he pounded back that night? But that kind of thing, you know. Drinking and driving in this town? No big deal. Everybody has a couple before they head for home."
"Shut up."
"It was the cocaine that really brought down the house. So to speak."
"Shut up!"
"Not just your house. He took out two kids, didn't he? They were just a little younger than you are now. All three of them. Bits and pieces small enough for sandwich bags, scattered along the side of the highway. So much shame. They all turned on you, and your mom crawled into a bottle, and left you all alone."
She ran at the doppelgänger, pinning it against the wall with her forearm over its neck. It laughed merrily. She swung with the knife. The doppelgänger grabbed her wrist. It was like iron, and her arm burned.
"Let's have no lies here, in the temple of your innocence."
"Fuck you."
It chuckled. "No wonder you didn't land any scholarships. Shocking lack of vocabulary."
Its other hand snapped up, squeezing her already aching throat.
"Nu-uh, little vampire. Not unless you want to go bowling with your lover's head."
"You aren't going to win."
"We won in Galicia. We won in Mongolia. We won up north. Remember how Astrid sang? Remember how she screamed?"
The doppelgänger thrust her away. Ash caught her and steadied her. She gasped for breath.
"How many times did I stop you?"
"You are a nuisance, it's true. So many of our world lost to your hunting."
"Stay in your own."
"This world is our birthright. We were expelled. We want it back. It is ours."
Ash was moving slowly away, drawing its attention. Marianne's hand tightened on the knife. Near her left hand was a porcelain poodle statue. She wrapped her fingers around it.
"It isn't yours."
"Nor yours, bloodsucker."
"Maybe not. Maybe when you're finally done, I will be, too. That doesn't bother me. The blood I spill from your pathetic brethren is payment enough." She bared her fangs. "Sometimes it's even delicious."
A spasm of rage passed over the doppelgänger's face. The house shook. "I'll enjoy tearing you apart."
Marianne swung the poodle. The doppelgänger blocked it, turning to the side. The porcelain shattered. She threw all her weight behind the knife, driving it into its shoulder, and into the wall behind it. It howled, shuddering. The house rocked back and forth. She heard the indrawn breath and covered her ears as another scream tore through it. The ballerinas crashed down from the walls. An ugly splinter appeared, barely more than a crack. Through it, she could see a hallway. A real one.
"More. Marianne—"
The doppelgänger's scream turned into laughter. It was looking at the knife. She knew it was in pain—the floor still shivered under her feet—and still, it was laughing.
"Clever, clever, little vampire, controlling your thrall so well."
"What?"
"Marianne…"
"You're her thrall. Nothing more." The doppelgänger's expression was pure malice.
"Marianne, kill it!"
"What...what's a thrall?"
"It's lying. It's lying to distract you. Kill it now, while we have a chance." There was an edge of panic in Ash's voice. The doppelgänger's eyes caught hers. Marianne hesitated.
"After she bit you. After she fed. She slipped into your mind, quiet as you please. I can feel her wiggling around in there like worms. Oh, yes." The doppelgänger tilted its head back and forth, as though Marianne was an object it was examining. "You remember, don't you? The night at the pit. The little gap of time between Bobby's shitty truck and waking up the next morning. Then there's the bite on your neck. You don't really think that the boy did it, do you? She clouded your mind. She drew you in. She knew what you could do for her. She knew she could make you do what she needed."
"Marianne kill it. Please, for god's sake kill it."
Flickers of memory. The bite. The stars. The hundred-dollar bill. A pain at her throat, followed by a peace. A pleasure. A voice whispering to her to forget. She looked at Ash, who shook her head.
"Marianne…"
It was a plea.
"You looked familiar…"
"All your desires. All your hopes. You pinned them on her." The doppelgänger's voice was smooth, and true. Marianne couldn't stop listening. "All your dreams of running away. Of money and school and exotic places. Of being someone better. Not trailer trash. Not some small-town hick. She'd sweep you away. Like a fairy tale. A vampire. She'd protect you and love you and give you all you ever wanted, and you'd give yourself to her in return."
Marianne blinked. Tears burned down her cheeks. The doppelgänger's voice burrowed into her mind.
"Everything was going to be different, wasn't it, Marianne? But she lied to you. Like your parents when they told you they'd always take care of you. Like Bobby, who didn't love you enough to protect you, and knocked you up for thirty seconds of pleasure. Like Charlene, who's your friend so she can flirt with Bobby. Your vampire lover wanted my lord dead, and she knew that you could open the gate. She knew that she could make you help her. She twined you around her little finger. You stupid little girl. So easy to play. So lonely that you'll go with anyone who says they love you."
"Marianne, it's casting a spell. Don't listen to it. Listen to me."
The doppelgänger growled and threw her off. The fog in Marianne's mind cleared. She scrambled to reach the knife. The doppelgänger wrenched it out of its shoulder. The tear in the wall split wider. It threw the knife aside, racing away deeper into the house.
"We have to get out of here."
She looked at the knife. A little spatter of blackish gore marred the carpet. She picked it up, the handle comfortable in her grip. When Ash reached out she stepped back, wiping her eyes.
"Go," she said numbly.
"I didn't—"
"We should...we should go."
They emerged in the entrance hall. Ash gingerly tried the front door. It opened without a fuss. Marianne walked out into the nighttime yard. Music came from the party down the street. She was hungry, exhausted, numb, and it was still the same day they'd left. The house looked as normal and peaceful as it had when they first approached.
She looked up at the sky, speckled with stars, and found the constellations she knew. They blurred briefly, and she wiped her eyes.
"Marianne."
"It doesn't always lie, does it? You said that it tells the truth when it serves its purpose. It mixes truth and lies."
"No. No, it doesn't always lie."
"The bite, that night. The fuzziness. It was you."
"Yes."
"You lied and pretended we'd never met before. You told me you couldn't do things like that. Mental things. But the whole time whenever I started to remember you were making me forget. To use me."
"No. No, that isn't...I told you to stay away from the hunt."
"You didn't exactly forbid it, did you? You gave in easy."
"Are you telling me that you didn't want to hunt? I saw your joy in it."
"How do I know?" She whirled, mouth trembling. She scrubbed at her eyes again. "How do I know what was me and what was you?"
"I don't hold in thrall those I love."
"Love. Sure. Thrall. That's the real reason you could hear me. Feel me. It wasn't…" She swallowed hard. "It was just you protecting your pet."
Ash looked as though she'd been slapped. Finally, she shook her head. "You can hate me, and walk away, and you can get on with your life, but there are two true things that you need to know. The first is that you earned your place on the hunt. From that first time with your frying pan, I couldn't have been more impressed, and more happy to have you by my side. More fortunate. The second is that I love you. And my kind don't half love."
"And you lied to me. That's three things." She turned and started down the driveway.
"Marianne!"
"Leave me alone. Go fight your invisible war. Leave me the fuck out of it."
The gate swung closed behind her. Ash screamed. There was no anger in it, only pain and loss that made her sob.
Somehow Marianne kept walking.
Chapter 17
Her mom rescheduled the doctor's appointment and drove her when it was time. She'd made a big deal about how lucky it was they could reschedule so fast and trailed off when Marianne only thanked her and went to her room. In the murky silence that followed she gathered up the knife and the fancy underwear and wrapped it up with the dress in an old bag and shoved it under her bed. She thought about it all the time, and thought about throwing it away.
It was probably only half maternal interest that made her mom go along. Most of it was to make sure she actually went. She sat in the waiting room staring at the floor, ignoring her mom's looks, and the ancient magazines, and the other women waiting to see the doctor.
Her mom nudged her. When she looked up the nurse was waiting. Marianne hid her aches and pains as best she could. Maybe her mom put her slowness down to the pregnancy. That was fine, as long as she left her alone.
"Do you want me to go in with you, honey?"
"No. I
t's okay."
She was poked and prodded, and gritted her teeth, staring at the wall while the doctor examined her. She'd started out chirpy. When Marianne couldn't live up to the doppelgänger's good cheer the running commentary had gradually taken on a certain strain.
"Ready for your first look?"
She went ahead when Marianne didn't answer. The nurse tilted the screen for her. "Ah, there we are."
Marianne looked at the fuzzy blob, then turned back to her examination of the blank white wall. "Are you almost done?"
"Sure. Sure, almost done. I'll print some pictures for you. You were talking about it last time we spoke. Just a few more things to go over."
She slouched on the paper-covered bed, toying with the frays on her jeans. The doctor came back with her clipboard and pulled up the stool. She made a few notes and set it aside.
"How are you really feeling today, Marianne?"
"Fine."
"You look a little down. It's a pretty big change from how you were when we met before."
"Sorry."
"You don't have to apologise. Mood changes are fairly common. I only want to be sure of the source. I'm here to keep you and your baby healthy. A big part of that is going to be your state of mind."
"I'm fine."
"Your lack of enthusiasm worries me."
Marianne shrugged. The doppelgänger always acted like the worst sort of cheerleader type. It made her wonder if real cheerleaders were all secretly full of unmitigated evil.
The doctor dipped her head, trying to meet her eyes. "I noticed the marks on your neck. It must hurt to talk."
Marianne nodded.
"The bruises too. It all looks pretty painful. Does that have something to do with it?"
"No."
"Do you mind if I ask how it happened?"
"Nothing important. Got into an argument with someone at a party."
"I see."
"I wasn't drinking or anything. Just hanging out with friends."
"Your life is going to change pretty dramatically."
Marianne tuned her out, looking past her at the blue sky, full of puffy white clouds. Her mom had already spent hours ragging on her. She'd been wearing a scarf again to cover the doppelgänger's damage. Between that and the bite, she should probably buy a few more scarves.