Dead Twin Sister Page 16
Drew struggled to stand. I placed the heel of my boot on his shoulder and forced him back to the floor. Before I could continue crushing the spirit of the man, a knock came at the door.
“Everything okay in there?” Dizzy’s voice called out from the other side.
“Help!”
I allowed Drew to cry out, let him draw the others into the room, that I might end three lives with an elegant efficiency. The door crashed open. Dizzy stood, mouth-breathing like a trout out of water.
Dizzy glanced between Drew and me. “What’s going on?”
“Yum, a threesome; I could hang with that.” I grabbed a handful of DIzzy’s shirt and yanked him into the room. In predictable fashion, Bella arrived in time for the fun to begin. “Care to join this madcap ménage?”
Bella had no time to respond. She landed on the pile of lumpy flesh with a squealed complaint. All three rolled to their backsides and sat up to stare daggers into my eyes.
“I hadn’t planned on it going this way, but you forced my hand.” I nudged Drew with my boot. “You just had to push me, didn’t you, piggy?”
“What the hell, Grog?” Drew growled.
“I’m not bloody Grog, you festering bag of rot.” My voice cracked, threatening to give out. “I’m not even fucking human! I assumed, being so profoundly connected to the woman, you’d have figured out by now she’d been taken over by her evil twin.” I leaned in close enough so that Drew could smell my sour breath. “Need I spell it out for you?”
I’d had enough of the flesh bag hiding my true form. A razor-sharp fingernail pierced the meat of my forehead and drew a bloody line down my face, slicing through skin to bone. The three sniveling humans at my feet screamed in horror at the fright show before them; and yet … they moved not one inch. I snaked my fingers beneath the bloody surface and slowly peeled away the costume—the lie—that tucked away my truth. Blood rained down to the floor, splattering exposed flesh and leaving its mark on open mouths and eyes.
“Behold, maggots, this is the new world order. I have finally arrived.”
The clothing, that I’d only just donned, ripped away like wet tissue as I continued to peel off the facade. By the time the skin was completely removed, my subjects were soaked in scarlet—stark white eyes blinked against the stinging, coppery fluid; a b-horror freak show in 3D psycho-rama.
“You’re probably asking yourself, at this very moment, whatever will happen? Will this beast massacre us, one by one, and feed upon our meat? Or will she suck our souls through our mouths and feast upon our sins?” I leaned over and licked a streak of blood from Drew’s cheek. “I have something so much sweeter planned for each of you. But don’t worry, I have no intention of filling you in on my little shenanigan. There’s no reason to spoil the surprise of this most blessed event.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Blessed. Isn’t that just the wrong word to use in this situation. Oh, so very wrong. Let me amend that statement to say before the horror unfolds.”
“What have you done to Grog?” Drew shouted.
I opted for the route less taken and straddled the man. One by one, I undid the buttons on his shirt until his chest was laid bare. “What to do now?” My fingernail hovered over the flesh that tucked away the man’s heart. “What secrets hide beneath? If I were to dig in, would I find an unrequited love for your precious Grog? Or has that road already been traveled and worn to dust?”
“Fuck you, whore.” Drew spat in my face.
I licked at the spittle on my lips—the taste of human unkindness was bitter. It was imperative the man release his rage. “Maybe you and I could have a go?” I ground my raw thighs against Drew’s, my blood soaking through his jeans. “I’ll even let you call me Grog.”
A right hook connected with my jaw, cracking the mandibular joint with the blow.
“That’s the spirit.” I tossed a glance toward Dizzy. “Care to join the fun?”
The young man stared, his eyes unblinking and mouth hanging open. His reaction failed me. I needed anger, not fear. Something had to piss the boy off. My needs were met the second I caught Dizzy glancing toward Bella—his Achilles. I snatched a handful of the girl’s hair and yanked her toward me. “Have you ever kissed a woman? You should try it, sweetie. It’ll steal your breath away.” I pinched Bella’s nostrils together, sealed our lips tight, and inhaled, drawing every ounce of air from the girl’s lungs. She struggled against the act, slapping at my arms and torso, to no avail.
That’s when Dizzy snapped, launching at me like a steel-wound coil. I tossed the gasping Bella to the side and wrapped Dizzy in a suffocating embrace.
“Valiant effort, my dear. Unfortunately, your chivalry will only score you a very premature death. But I’m certain a man like you is accustomed to premature. Am I right?” Dizzy’s eyes bulged from their sockets as he scrambled for precious oxygen. “Don’t fight it, darling. Death is an underrated moment. That passage from living to dying is the best orgasm you’ll ever experience. If you’re lucky, you’ll enjoy it for an eternity. If you’re not so lucky—” I unleashed a magnificent round of laughter. “Oh, who am I kidding? I can’t give away such a secret. You’re going to have to find out for yourself what awaits, once that heart of your thumps its last beat.”
Before Dizzy’s life passed before his eyes, the heel of Drew’s boot landed squarely against the side of my head, sending me and Dizzy crashing to the floor in different directions. My hands scrambled to gain purchase on Drew’s legs, but the unclotted blood made everything I touched a slippery mess.
“Run!” Drew shouted to his fellow living worms.
I allowed them egress from the scene. In a moment of battle-worn lucidity, I realized their escape was exactly what I needed. Chances were, they’d run back to the studio—hoping to find some semblance of protection. There, I could collect each of their souls—including the overblown engineer—and send them into The Shallow with the object of their affected affection. With the idiot brigade out of the way, I could finish up what I’d started and play the recording for the masses.
Although that last feat might require me to leave Tony alive. I tapped a good amount of Grog’s memories and skills, but it seemed sound engineering wasn’t one of them—at least not on the level I required. Mass hysteria would demand massive volume. To eleven, this bitch must go.
The teeth grinding screams faded into the distance. It was time for me to follow my wards. I wound my way through the home, leaving sticky crimson footprints in my wake, and exited the building. The hot summer air heated my exposed flesh until I felt blood boiling under the surface. “Good thing soaring temperatures and I are besties.” I chuckled at my use of lame American slang.
A symphony of honking rose around me. Pedestrians gave me a wide berth—or at least some of them did. The remaining humans seemed to inch a bit closer, as if they wanted to exercise their inner necrophiliac in the middle of the street.
I held my arms aloft and shouted, “Let them eat the cake of my flesh!”
A loud screech was followed by a metal on metal crash. I had drawn quite the crowd—exactly what I needed; bring my power to bear en masse, so I could unleash their collective rage in one fell swoop.
“Behold, the future of the human race!” Blood rained down from my lips as I spoke, the words laced with the sounds of sedition. “Look upon those around you and see beneath the lies. Dive deep into that pit of despair you call hope and rip it from you. Swallow down your pride and smash that moral compass to bits. Break the machine of faith and wrench the world free from its failing ethical obligation!”
Once finished, a discomfiting silence overcame the crowd. That moment of peace lasted all but seconds, before a war broke out among the people. All manner of violence was visited upon flesh and bone.
I skirted the crowd, keeping an eye out for errant punches, kicks, or flying bodies. I would have loved to join the fray, but my mission was far more important than the desire to inflict and feel pain. “This is the stuff of my dreams.”
A siren wailed from behind. I refused to stop. Instead, I spun a lovely pirouette, flinging drops of blood in three hundred sixty degrees, and walked on. The klaxon demanded I halt a second and third time; and yet, I persisted.
The black and white vehicle pulled in front of me, its brakes screeching as it jerked to a standstill. The passenger door opened. A man in uniform hopped out, his hand already hovering over his weapon.
“Stop where you are,” the young gent insisted. The delicate tremble in his voice betrayed his fear.
I licked my lips. “Or what?”
My question silenced the officer. A bead of sweat dropped from his forehead to sting his blinking eyes; he wiped at his brow and sucked in a nervous breath. “Ma’am, don’t make me ask you again.”
“Fine.” I stopped. “But you must do me a favor.”
“Sorry ma’am, I cannot abide any requests. I need you—”
“And that’s where you’re mistaken.” I dropped my voice into the realm of seduction. “I need you to be free from the shackles of humanity. Unleash your beast and claim your station atop the food chain.”
The officer’s face twisted into a knot of rage. He released a baleful cry that immediately shifted into a symphony of madness. As his partner exited the car, the officer leveled his pistol and laid waste the man’s head.
“Fly,” I whispered into the officer’s ear. “Be free.”
The man in uniform sped off, unloading bullet after bullet into innocent bystanders. A cacophony of crazy filled the air with a most glorious music.
“It’s too bad I can’t stay out and play,” I teased the world. “But evil waits for no one.”
This was but a taste of what was to come. With the sound of my voice blasted over the airwaves of this sprawling city, the doorway from The Dark Seduction would finally open to release the hounds of Hell.
A young couple turned a corner and walked toward me, their attention focused dead onto one another.
“Ah love, isn’t it a many,” I paused for effect, “splintered thing? The pricks and arrows of outrageous fortune beg of you, with a kick … you die.”
My words had no effect. With an infernal growl, I shouted, “How dare you—”
The young man and woman were signing to one another. Both were deaf; their inability to hear rendered them impervious to my voice. “Such tragedy that your handicap would be your salvation. Fear not, there is always collateral damage in war.”
A skater punk zipped past; before he could get out of range, I sang the boy a song—my voice undercut with the siren call of damnation. “History. Repeating in a cage, twisting every page to pervert the narrative from love to rage.”
The young man did an impressive dismount from his board, snatched it up, raced at the signing couple, and crashed it down onto the head of the male. A rainbow of blood arched into the air and splashed a generous pattern over the woman’s pristine white dress.
“Innocence unmade. When life gives you lemons, you piss lemonade.” I laughed at my turn of phrase. “I should be in a band.”
The skater continued to pulp the skull of the now-dead male. The female raced off into the shadows of an alley.
“Run, rabbit, run.” My voice bounced off the nearby walls. I let the woman go, knowing the horror of what she had experienced would spin her into a rather dark and unpredictable spiral. “Not every act of chaos has to end with death.”
Although death is a much preferable endgame.
The human orchestra continued to play the grim sonata, for which I was conductor. It was a great comfort to know, should push come to a desperate shove, even without the songs I’d recorded, I could open the door—albeit far more slowly.
“Good thing for immortality,” I chuckled and sang out, “Run, humans, run. Run! Run! Run!”
***
I reached the studio, the journey taking more time than I’d expected. That delay was, most likely, due to my dabbling in madness, here and there. Each time I unleashed another micro-war, I could feel my powers growing. Practice did, after all, make for perfect. The adage did not only apply to good.
My reflection in the glass door revealed that much of the blood had finally clotted, giving me the look of charred beauty. Veins and sinew peeked through the rust-colored sheen on my meaty covering.
“In Hell, I’d be winning beauty pageants.” I cupped my skinless breasts and blew my image a kiss. “Beauty is in the lie of the beholder.”
Without another word, I pulled the door open and walked into the stagnant air of the studio. “Hello, boys, mama’s home!” I shouted, assuming I’d be bull rushed or shot by Drew and company. When no one arrived to greet me, I continued on, toward the control room. Through the back wall of glass, I could see Tony, seated at his console, toiling away at mixing ours or someone’s tracks. The large man practically engulfed the room, dollops of sweat dripping from his forehead and lips.
This sweet unrest would be such a tasty pastry.
“All work and no play, makes Jack a dull boy.” My voice drifted through the room, a seductive siren call no man could refuse.
Tony spun on his chair. The instant he beheld my hellborn countenance, the slimy grin drained from his face. “What the fuck? Is this a goddamn joke? Bitch, you better not be getting that fake blood all over my carpet. I just had that shit cleaned.”
My ire skyrocketed; the heat from my core liquefying the crusted blood covering my naked muscles. Every black fiber within me begged to unleash my beast. I had to curb that rage. Otherwise Tony would be no more.
“Now, now, friendo … let’s not be hasty. I can make your every wish come true.”
“Bullshit,” Tony spat.
“Why don’t you try me? Haven’t you always longed to taste the truly naked flesh of a woman? It’s only necro if your partner’s dead. I’m very much alive.”
“This is Gordon’s doing, isn’t it? I knew he was a prankster. I could hear it in his voice.” Tony stood and took one step forward before I stopped him with a look. “Why don’t you hit the head, take off the skin suit, and maybe then we can party. I got coke, weed, booze; anything your heart desires. Just … take the fucking Slim Goodbody costume off before I toss my goddamn breakfast all over you.”
This one was going to be fun. The man had no fear—at least not on the surface. Fortunately, for one such as myself, it wouldn’t be hard to mine his fright. Everyone had something tucked away in their heart, some kernel of dread that promised to undo them, should it surface.
I inched toward Tony, step by step, until he was within arm’s reach. Before the overlarge man could excuse himself from the moment, I grabbed a handful of shirt, pulled him to me, and pressed my lips to his. This time around, the kiss held a much more specific purpose; instead of sucking the life from the victim, I exhaled my own special flavor into him. When I shoved Tony away, he was stripped of everything that made him … him. No more was he the clown, the fool, the fop, the mad hatter of the recording industry. Now the man was my puppet. His slackened face and half-mast eyes clearly indicated the trick had worked to perfection.
“Ring Drew and get him here. I don’t care what you have to do or say to make it happen, just do it. Fail me and the suffering you will endure will last an eternity. Succeed and you will enjoy sweet relief.”
Tony withdrew his phone and tapped at the screen. Soon after pressing the device to the side of his face, he spoke. “Drew, my man. I need you at the studio pronto. No, it can’t wait. Gordon shifted the release date forward, so we have to get this shit mixed and shipped—otherwise you run the risk of pissing off your new manager. I don’t care if you’re chasing down the fucking pope, we have to get this done. Good. See you in a bit.” Tony disconnected the call and nodded my way. “He’ll be here soon.”
“Wonderful. Now ge
t back to your room and do your thing. By the way, you are not to alter my tracks one bit.”
“But—”
I pressed the tip of my index finger into Tony’s mouth. Reflexively, the man sucked at the drying life juice, like an overripe baby to a pacifier laced with sugar. “There, there, big boy, have all you need from mama. Before the suckling grew tedious, I withdrew my finger. “Do what I asked, or you’ll never taste of the mana again.”
Tony’s face nearly collapsed with fear. My blood was the purest drug, easier to get hooked on than heroin, and smoother than the finest whiskey. Like a good minion, the man retreated to his room, tail tucked between his legs, and sat behind his station to work.
This was going to be too damned easy. I wanted a fight—at least something to entertain me until chaos reigned supreme.
ACT V
REVENGE
SIXTEEN
We were born in blood, just to get a taste. Hear the call to run in the human race You’re my rival, you’re not my brother. We were born to kill each other.
She’s here, Al roused me from a most wondrous stupor. My body was floating, hovering inches above the floor, in a state of peace I’d never before experienced—or so I’d thought. Peace had always been the goal for me, the never-ending struggle in a modern world built for speed and overstimulation. Yoga was my one true drug and the road to a calm heart. Without it, I was lost. With it in my arsenal, I could chill in a war zone.
I snapped out of my reverie, to find my incorporeal flesh alive with an unsettling vibration—as if the ghostly molecules holding me together were about to release themselves unto the world at large.
What’s wrong, Grog?
“Having a bit of trouble holding myself together, Al.”
You can’t allow anger to take control.
“It’s not anger; something is…” The vibrations escalated until I was certain my end was nigh.
It’s the doppelgänger. The two of you existing in this realm together is unmaking you on a quantum level.