章 6: The Other Me

I looked at him, the disgusting spawn of a matter that shouldn't have existed. He looked at me, the exact copy. A pair of solid black eyes looked at me unblinkingly, so clear that it revealed a perfect reflection of me. I glanced at him and myself, noticing the distance we are apart; a distance where it is possible for either of us to assault one another. He looked at me, as if reading my thoughts, and smiled. A rather... coy smile. "Came to finish the job, eh?", his sardonic voice echoed around the white room we were in, and it never failed to annoy me. He displayed a matching smirk and strode towards me slowly- excruciatingly so. Just punching him here and there was a very tempting thing to do. The mere thought of it was vivid in my mind... but of course I am more civilized than that. I like to take my time until the finishing move. His face was mere inches away from mine and his breath wafted to my nostrils. Mint and coffee- my everyday snack, with a hint of decay, but I think it's probably just because it's him that I smell this. "Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes is finally gonna save the day?", he scrunched up his nose and widened his smile: to the point that it twitched at the end. Holding that face up a few more seconds he finally laughed and backed away. I exhaled rather loudly, but the laughing buffoon is probably too preoccupied that he didn't notice. Any sign of him being superior to me is a huge blow to my ego. Even more so if it was with my consent, so being stuck in that uncomfortable position was all for protecting my male pride... and was it worth it. "Hahaha, and this is what, the third time? C'mon we both now that you are a milk drinking priss that doesn't even know how to hold a knife!", I snorted with the last refrain and lanquidly revealed the dagger hidden in my hand. He looked at me, blinked before arrogantly placing his hands on his hips. What do you think I was expecting, an 'Oh no I'm scared' or a 'God no please'? I applaud for berating of him, but this annoying bastard isn't as easy to crack as an eggshell. I think a clam is a much more closer comparison to him. A hard, crummy, loudmouth of a clam. That's an insult to clams actually. "Ok, I was wrong, but wielding a petty knife is nothing.", see I told you. The lack of questioning of the dagger nagged at the back of my head, so of course I ignored it... and of course was that a big mistake. Right after he finished talking he knocked me to the ground, but not to the point that the dagger flipped from my hands. It hurt, my head hurt like motherfucking hell, but again... pride. His identical body caged mine, but resisting is too much of a hassle for me... but so is submitting. I hugged the dagger on my chest, not leaving the slight flinch of him unnoticed. "A tenacious bugger ain't 'cha- thinking you can just kill me like a mortal", spit sprayed on my face, and it was disgusting trust me, the smell of peppermint and mocha wasn't able to erase my disgust-now it was fullblast DECAY, but I kept my unwavering stare on his. I mouthed words to him, and I'm pretty sure he knows what two words I'm mouthing. Starts with an 'F' and ends with a 'U'... "Fuck you? Did you just- ha- really- haHaHAHA", ugh again with the laughing. He laughed in front of me, and it was even harder to refrain myself from kicking him in the balls, if it had any effect. Actually I'd probably circumcise him first... nevermind. I could see every detail of his face. His long thick lashes, black but currently closed eyes with tears forming at the ends, black teeth shined at me and although the color wasn't exactly orthodox for teeth, it shined as if it was polished everyday... I inwardly sighed as I kept on looking at him. How I am never going to miss you when you are gone. I placed the dagger on his neck, pressing lightly on the skin. I already knew the outcome, but why not? He stilled at the motion and looked back to me. Amusement, that's what I saw. Those black eyes were mocking me, but I can't blame him really. I was pretty worthless and unmentionable. Underline 'was'. "Try it, just try", not even waiting for an answer he pressed down. His skin absorbed the dagger like sponge, well not exactly like sponge- but it did look as if it absorbed it. It was more like a dent really. A temporary dent. He snickered as he stayed in that position: with the dagger one forth down his neck. Vibrations tickled my fingers, ew, but the metal turned colder the longer it stayed inside him. He finally pulled back, the skin forming back as if the weapon wasn't even there, and said menacingly, " I can't disappear, Tommy. I never disappear. I am the manifestation of yourself, your demented self at least. No matter how much you try to kill me I will always be there. As long as you live, then I will live on. If I don't exist then it's as if you yourself don't exist", man have I heard that many times. He brought on his most 'innocent' smile, the most innocent he could muster. Mind if I quote 'innocent', because it only looked like something the devil would create, although I'm not catholic this seemed the most appropriate. I mirrored his smile, sweet and tepid, and brought the dagger back to my chest, except the point was first to meet with my skin. He flinched only slightly before commenting rather rushed, "Are you serious? Tommy, have you actually stepped backwards on the evolution chain?". Ah, that wavering at the end was like music to my ears. I pressed the dagger on my chest until the feeling of a mosquito bite seared it as well as the cool and numb flow of the blood leaking out of my wound. He gasped and jumped off my body. I got up in a sitting position, my elbow keeping me up, and kept the dagger tip-deep in my chest. He looked at me, wide-eyed, and touched the matching wound on his chest. A faint white marred his, mirroring the exact depth of my wound. He gasped, as if this pain was too hard to, hahaha, handle and fingered the whole- only to hiss when he touched any area near it. "Not so tough now, bugger", I said, my voice back to it's glory. Note to self: One step backwards for him = two steps forward for me. I thoroughly enjoyed the familiar hum of my throat as I spoke. 'Seductive incubus' I would describe it... fine it was more like 'Charming playboy', but that's as low as I'm going. My voice is too good for the likes of him. It sounded better than his deformed version, which sounds like my voice and a constipated woman giving birth's voice mushed together- which sounds as horrible as it sounds, minus my voice. "You're bluffing", he seethed, low and hateful. I laughed and as punishment plunged the blade deeper inside my chest, to the point that it reached the hilt. Now, that did a great damage to me, as well as him of course. Both of us coughed out: him nothing while me, well, blood. The red sticky liquid dribbled down my mouth unto the white ground mixing together with the blood from the wound, making me a bloody mess. He coughed a few times and brought his left hand to wipe the saliva cascading down his chin, a silver thread connecting his top and bottom teeth as he breathed out. At least mine looked cooler than his drool. My eyes twitched slightly as I caught sight of his teeth. No more were they the dark shiny black, but more of a sticky wine-red. We spat our accumulating liquids on the ground, here I inwardly cringed. We synchronized... god this is more nauseating than when he spat on my face. I watched as he struggled from collecting his breath, probably isn't even able to. " You are bluffing. Stop it bastard. Stop it NOW!", his voice took the turn for the worse and got even more deformed, adding the raspy-voiced hormonal teenager. I sighed as the white room shook with the pressure, white dusty debris falling from the top, "Don't you ever learn". I placed the dagger on my throat, on the position for slitting it wide open. "WAIT!", his voice echoed. Desperate and needy it jumped off every wall and corner of the room, silencing it until it faded off. Joy was he getting pathetic. I sat there with the dagger still in the position until he made a audible gulp. His voice quivered now, thank the heavens, "I-I'm s-sorry". I raised my brow feigning ignorance and tilted my head, digging the edge deeper. He lowered his voice now, to the point that it was a mere whisper, "I'm s-sorr-y". I slowly laid the blade away from the base of my Adam's apple, the metal clanking as it made contact with the floor, and with that action I felt my sadistic side yell at me as he relaxed. I sweetened my voice like a child, slurring like the way I hated it, "Do you pwomise not to bother me eever again~?". He gulped again and looked at me hesitantly as if it was a trap. But what choice does he have anyway? If he refuses, well down the gutter he goes. He brought a shaky finger to his nonexistent heart and made a cross. "Cross my heart or hope to die", I smiled at him and my sadistic side was raging now, like a lion separated from it's prey by a glass wall. A strong, thin glass wall. "Well that's good-", his shoulder relaxed now. 1...2...3... "-but too bad for you I want you dead. NOW", and now that wall was gone. I watched, as if in slow-motion, as his eyes widened and his mouth formed words I no longer hear. Last minute death-thing I guess. "Son of a bitch Tommy", was it? Yeah, those were his last words. Those last words that no one will mourn. Not even death itself. The dagger cut through my throat swiftly, as swiftly as his voice change. Last thing I saw was his body evaporating to this air. POOF. Gone with the snap of my fingers. The room also began to crack... probably got destroyed to who-knows-what. My death was quick, short, and happy. I was happy at least. I'm pretty sure he died angry at the end. I mean, did you see those teeth? Got me shivering there bud. He was pissed as shit and I'm certain I wanted it that way anyway. If I didn't I would've changed into a ghost or something. Probably find a guy like him and torture him til he dies the way I want him to. But he's one of a kind, since he's me anyway. Can't find anyone else like him. If I did, well, that person would be dead, thus both of our extermination. The world just can't handle the two of the same kind. Even those freaky identical twins you see on TV have their flaws. I messed with him like he messed with me and, like they say, live life to the fullest, and sir his agonized expression was the fullest thing my life could get. Now with all of that gone I had something scratching my mind. Something about what he said.... what was it now....hm... Oh- "The names Thomas, jackass".