Strange Faces: Part 2

(read part one here; or just scroll down, don't be lazy.)

“Now listen carefully” he said.

Is that what my voice sounded like?  People had always told me that I had a voice made for radio, but I never really believed it.  Listening now to the silky sounds coming out of my doppelgängers  throat made me think a new career path had just opened up.  

They could call me the Wolfman, I thought.

“Pay attention!”, Mirror Me shouted. 

Shit, I almost forgot he was there.  I should probably describe what I was seeing at this point.  He was more than just my double.  Of course he looked just like me, right down to the Marilyn Monroe mole on my cheek.  Being from what I assume was an alternate dimension, he also had that evil twin goatee, like Mr. Spock had on that one episode of Star Trek. 

Making the  goatee sexy since the 23rd century.

 Then I remembered that I also had a goatee and it kind of sucked the fun right out of the horror.  But after a moment, I realized that the similarities were only superficial.  What came out of the mirror was an exact copy of me in every way.  What was standing before me now was changing in oh so subtle ways.  As I watched, pounds began to melt off of him.  Where I could be described as a bit, cough cough, heavy, my twin was slowly reaching my ideal weight, a thousand Hollywood diets screaming in protest.  The small scar on my hand from a childhood accident was slowly fading away.  Even his hair was changing style, split down the middle in a way that didn't make him look like a complete douche. Bastard.

No longer needed.

“I am the you that you always wanted to be”, he said. “I am you without the fear, without the anxiety and depression you keep hidden from even your own family.  I am the mask of confidence you slip on every day as you look into the mirror, steeling yourself for another endless day of false smiles and forced friendships because you can’t for a moment conceive of anyone accepting you for who you really are.  What I really am.”

Keep talking, asshole. Not that I wasn't listening.  I heard every word; I just didn't think that this was a good time for self-discovery.  There were other, more pressing problems to confront.  Escape came to mind. 

“I am th-gahhh!”  

That last was my attempt at making dick hamburger with his crotch.  Unfortunately for him, but fortunately for me, my position falling backward into the tub left my legs elevated to perfect crotch level.  The bathroom, as small as it is (I think its cozy), had him standing well within reach for a size twelve dick kicking.  Taking the opportunity I created, I scrambled out of the tub, leaving him writhing in what I can only hope was excruciating pain, and headed for the living room.

I need a weapon, I thought. Think.

Get me my boomstick.

Standing in the living room, I began to take a quick inventory of its contents, hoping to see something that I could use to bludgeon an inter-dimensional doppelgänger.  You don’t see tools for that at Sears, you know.  Although it would probably be made by Craftsman.

Ok, lets see.  TV remote. No, its fragile; just looking at it wrong causes the batteries to fall out.  Ok, next.  Laptop sitting on my coffee table.  No, no.  Kill me, but don’t take away my internet.  Day old French fries next to laptop.  Maybe I could feed them to him.  No, wait! Got it!

Rushing back into the bathroom, I brandished my chosen weapon as the knights of old would brandish their swords. 

Holding my back-scratcher ready, I said, “All right motherfucker, get ready for the worst scratching of your life!”  Alright, the knight I was thinking of may have been Don Quixote.  Sue me.

From Bruce Campbell to this fucking guy.  Things aren't going well.

But he was no longer there.  A ripple in the mirror and a scrawled message on its surface told the tale.

“I am everywhere”

I had no reflection.

To Be Continued...

JrX

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