Missing shingles marked the passage of time. I rapped knuckles on a faded door, guts a-twisting. Would they recognize me and say: you’ve come back? Cry? Laugh?
"Coming!"
Pattering footsteps; then creaking hinges. My eyes widened. Not Mom. Not Dad.
Me.
"Oh, it's you.” they sneered.
Mind whirling, I sputtered, "I-who-how?"
"Cloning, my dear Watson. Hair plucked from your brush and voila: here I am!"
My knees buckled, then they were on me; hands crushing my windpipe and occluding vessels. Darkness descended, wrapping me in its funeral shroud. A cold voice—mine—filled my ears:
“There can only be one.”
About the Creator
N.J. Gallegos
Howdy! I’m an ER doc who loves horror, especially with a medical bent. Voted most witty in high school so I’m like, super funny. First novel coming out in Fall 2023! Follow me on Twitter @DrSpooky_ER.
Check me out: https://njgallegos.com
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Comments (3)
I can never get enough of your writing, Doc! "A cold voice - mine..." Chills, brah. Chills.
Whoaaa, I did not see that coming! Loved this so much!
Ha, ha! I like this...! I suspect that my last words will be, 'Is that thing loaded?' :0