Dead Twin Sister Page 17

  “And when did you become a physicist, Al?”

  I have a lot of time on my hands now, Grog.

  Even in death, the man had a wicked sense of humor.

  My body drove near a full-blown ten on the Richter scale. My spectral flesh bubbled and expanded, only to return to normal and repeat the process again and again. The tectonic plates of my skeleton were shaking free of muscle and tendon. Something was pulling me out of tune and out of true. The dark harmonics rumbling through my body made it crystal clear The Shallow was the guilty party.

  You can do this, Grog. You are just as powerful as she. You’ve traversed realms, defeated Vau-eal, and your voice is to not die for.

  And therein was my solution. “I could fucking kiss you, Al.”

  My voice had been my saving grace to this point; there was no logical reason why it couldn’t hold me together. And so … I sang. This time around, I opted for a bit of music that was certain to center my mind and spirit. Not something from the Die So Fluid canon, but a piece of music as ancient as memory.

  “Har tarah ka thha vilaas, par nahi bujhti thhi pyaas, Raaj-bhog pramaad thhe par manah-shaanti ka thha hraas.” The words and melody spilled over me, like coming home from a long journey. The “Story of the One” eased the violent tremors and brought me a much-needed peace. The Shallow’s hold faded.

  That’s it, luv.

  Now would be the winter of my personal discontent. I had to find a way to fight the doppelgänger, while incorporeal.

  We have to find a way. Al’s voice soothed my remaining nerves.

  “I can’t put you in harm’s way, Al.”

  That’s rich. Al’s roaring laugh filled my skull. Just try and stop me from helping you, Grog.

  “Can’t imagine, for one second, that would be an easy feat.”

  Even with Al’s help, I was going against a very powerful foe who was driven by an even more powerful need—to remain. The dead twin sister had to know it was either her or me. It was taking a considerably concerted effort for me to not vanish from the realm of the living—simply because she existed in the same dimension.

  This convolution was near to snapping my mind. It was time to take care of this nasty business.

  Grog, Al’s voice held a dark curiosity. What kind of no good are you up to?

  “I’m about to kick that bitch’s ass. You with me or no?”

  Wouldn’t miss it for anything. Well, maybe for the chance to live again.

  “You just had to remind me, didn’t you?”

  Feels damn good to know I’m missed.

  “You have no idea, Al. No bloody idea.”

  If it helps, I miss the hell out of you as well, Groggy.

  “Oddly enough, old friend, it does.”

  About that ass kicking…

  I sucked in as deep a breath as my lungs could hold—or at least went through the motions of inhaling. Quite honestly, I wasn’t sure if my lungs worked in this form.

  Go time.

  With Al by my side—or, rather, in my head—I burst through the door, in ghost-like fashion, and haunted the halls of the studio, until I found my mark.

  The sight was beyond belief. The woman had peeled away the entirety of her flesh and stood, like the Visible Woman, soaked in a sheen of blood. Visions of Julia, from Hellraiser 2, smacked me upside the head.

  I’m in Hell. My thought bumped up against Al, who responded with a gentle…

  You think this is Hell?

  The sister tensed. Even from behind, I could tell she sensed my presence.

  “I thought I smelled desperation.” The doppelgänger glanced over her shoulder at me. “And there you are.” When the lich finally turned, the stark whites of her eyes nearly doubled in size. “I never thought you had the balls to ghost me. Well played, Lisee, well played.” A devilish grin etched its way across her face. “Unfortunately, it will have been your last move. For now … you die. Don’t worry, dear, I’ll make sure it’s a fluid death.”

  The doppelgänger didn’t give me a chance to respond to the misplaced pun; her hands shot before her, palms toward me, to send a molten ball of fire my way. To my—and Al’s—surprise, the flaming projectile passed right through and slammed into a nearby wall.

  “Well that’s just … neat,” the dead twin sister thickened her accent to mock me. “I suppose I’m just going to have to try a bit harder.”

  What do we do, Grog?

  Before I could answer, a brilliant blue glow erupted from the sister’s hands and engulfed me. Everything beyond the bubble went silent—the only sound was the electrical charge dancing in three-hundred-and-sixty degrees. The neon cage began to shrink.

  Is she going to crush us, Grog?

  “Honestly, I have no bloody idea, Al. If you have any suggestions, I’d be happy to hear them about now.”

  You’re a ghost, Grog. Do what ghosts do.

  Al’s idea was so simple, it was almost too good to work. I held my breath and slipped my hand through the boundary. A tingling sensation shot up my arm, but nothing more. With the slightest bit of relief washing over me, I stepped outside of the shrinking ball.

  My confidence in the outcome of this battle was growing exponentially with every failure visited upon the twin.

  Even though her second attack was an even bigger bomb, the doppelgänger continued to grin.

  “What is it with you evil ne’er-do-wells and that nasty-ass smile?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  “It feels good to gloat,” the bitch answered. “That’s all.”

  I was about to unleash my own dangerous flavor when the doors to the studio opened. Drew crashed the fight. “What the fuck is—” Drew’s voice fell instantly silent, the second he laid eyes on the skinned and the ectoplasmic Grogs. He pointed from one to the other, until it was clear his brain had hiccupped.

  “Drew,” I pointed to the lich. “If you’re looking for justice, take that woman down.”

  “How … what … I don’t think…” Drew was in some form of causality loop. I snapped my fingers and shouted his name until his eyes blinked open. “Grog!” Drew finally acknowledged me.

  “Isn’t this a fancy little reunion,” the sister began. “Too bad it has to come to a premature end.”

  The twin busied herself by showing her master-level snark; while she did, I made my move and formed the Grog mudra. The power resonated through my body, threatening to send my bits scattering to the literal and figurative four corners.

  The very second I was to unleash my growing fury, the world around us vanished. In place of the studio was the scarlet sky of The Seduction. The doppelgänger stood, yards from me, curious as I.

  What happened, Grog?

  “Somehow we’ve been brought back to The Dark Seduction,” I whispered as to not clue my dead twin sister in on the situation.

  Much to my chagrin, the thing laughed—nearly bending over in a howl. “The irony is so thick, wouldn’t you agree? Here we are, back at the beginning of our very own beguine, where your nightmares all began. I do hope you understand how dire this situation has become for you.”

  It’s a trap.

  I couldn’t help wonder if Al was warning me, or quoting one of his favorite nerd films. Either way, the man was probably right. I wasn’t about to fall prey to this necrotart’s games. “Seems to me, you’re the one whose circumstances have taken a turn for the bloody bleak. Or should I say, bleak and bloody?”

  The evil twin took a too-confident step forward. “I’d be more than happy to toss one liners back and forth for an eternity or two; unfortunately, for you, I have a contract that must be fulfilled. And thus, with a kiss … you die.”

  My doppelgänger floated on a bloody mist, scarlet contrails flowing in her wake. “Your death will be quick—unless you’d prefer to suffer?”

  Sooooo … what’s the plan, Grog?

  How could I tell one of my dearest and departed friends I had no plan to save my life and his soul? The synapses of my brain only just began to wrap aro
und the idea of fight or flight, when an indescribable pain shot through my body. The agony doubled me over, threatened to send me into a fit of apoplectic shock; all the while, Al’s voice roared a suffering lament inside my head. The power, unleashed by my dead twin sister, sent me soaring into the air, straight up, over the tree line to fly with the birds; only fly was a bit generous a description.

  I hit terminal velocity just as my body crashed into the hard-packed Earth of The Seduction.

  “Isn’t it remarkable how easy the human body is to unmake? Bit by bit, bone by bone, I can break you apart until the suffering takes you under the tide of death. Oh, but don’t worry, sister,” the thing cackled as she gestured for me to fly back into the air a second time. When I crashed down again, she finished her thought. “I’ll make sure you die ever so slowly. I want you to suffer unimaginable lengths of pain.”

  Do something, Grog! Al shouted in my head.

  My body disobeyed the pain receptors crying havoc within me, so I could stand and face my foe.

  “Oh, she’s pretty and tough.” The lich licked its lips.

  With my agony in check, I brought my hands together into the Rudra mudra. The second my thumb and ring finger touched together, the suffering ended. My hands quickly formed the mudra Thessia had empowered to me. Fingers of pure white light snaked from my fingers, like sentient lightning, and encompassed the lich. I raised my hands above my head to send the skinless creature hurling into the sky. With another swipe of my arms, she was sent smashing to the ground—a taste of her very own, sinister medicine.

  I sent the creature flinging to the ground a second and third time. As I gestured for her fourth sky fall, the energy sputtered and failed. She stood, arms at her sides and flesh charred, smiling as if she’d just stepped off a fun-house ride.

  “It’s about damn time someone challenged me.”

  Something shifted in the doppelgänger’s body.

  What is happening? Al asked, his voice a mixture of curiosity and terror.

  Strands of glistening fiber loosed themselves around the foul bitch—like giant rubber bands whipped by a master dominatrix.

  Those are…

  Before Al could finish the statement, I realized what I was seeing—my dead twin sister’s veins and arteries were stretching and snapping about to reinvent her physical makeup. Something deep within me had a sneaking suspicion what was about to unfold.

  “Grog!” Thessia’s voice called out from my left. Before I could return the cry, the lich sent a writhing mass of vein to cocoon the woman. She fell to the ground, attempting to wriggle and press her way out of the encasement—to no avail.

  The sister dragged Thessia toward her. Instinct took hold and, before I realized what was happening, I’d launched myself at the lich to take her down. We hit the ground hard, my backside taking the brunt of the fall. I rolled over and sent a hail storm of fists crashing into any piece of exposed muscle and bone I could find. Blow by blow rained down, sending shockwaves of pain up my arm and arcs of brownish blood exploding into the surrounding air. I ignored the sensation and continued, knowing my pugilism was the only thing standing in the way of Thessia and the Grimmest of Reapers.

  She’d had enough and tossed me aside like a second-hand doll. The cocoon holding Thessia was growing smaller and smaller and smaller.

  A devil-may-care smile broke over the lich’s lips. “She tastes of regret. Even so, her liquid is flowing through me now. Thanks to your dearly departed, I am stronger than ever.” The now-empty sack of veins retracted back into the evil twin. “Sorry for your loss and all.”

  Rage burned in my chest. This nightmare had taken too much from me already—now she’d robbed me of my mentor and dear friend. The muscles in my neck and shoulders twitched with anticipation and need—a need to end this monstrosity, once and for fucking all.

  Without thinking, I formed the Grog mudra and unleashed a river of energy at the lich. To my shock, she shrugged it off like a carpet’s static charge.

  Shit, Grog, that is not good.

  “Obvious much, Al?”

  Now’s not the time to go all Buffy on me, luv.

  My dead twin sister raised her arms, a spaghetti-work of veins undulating like a mass of snakes ready to strike. She flung rubbery death at me; I managed to dodge out of the way, just as the slippery mess passed over my head.

  The house.

  Al didn’t have to explain. I sped off, toward the abandoned shack, leaving the doppelgänger momentarily in my dust. From behind I could hear the bitch screaming my name; there was a certain desperation in her tone, as if she knew something I didn’t—something that would most certainly not favor her cause. My boots bit into the black, dusty earth of The Seduction, each stride testing the limits of my catsuit. Before I reached the broken and tattered porch, I raised a palm toward the house and sent a wave of energy toward the door—it opened just as I reached the threshold.

  I slid to a halt, turned, and slammed the entryway shut. Why I was certain this rotted slab of wood could prevent something powerful as my evil twin from gaining access, I’d never know. A memory of a too-frightened little girl bubbled up to the surface—a younger me, ducking under the covers to hide away from the darkness that dwelled within my closet. The cotton cloth stood sentinel over me, my protector from shadow and sin.

  From the other side of the door, her voice rose in a thunderous howl. “You can’t stay in there forever, Grog Rox. I, on the other hand, have all the time in the universe to wait.”

  What is it about this house that prevents her—

  I silenced Al’s thought with a point toward the floor.

  Mother of all that is dark and occult-y. What in the hell is that?

  On the floor, drawn in blood, was an all-too familiar-sigil. A circle of pitchforks—similar to the one that had haunted me before I first entered The Dark Seduction, only inverted.

  “Thessia did this. She knew…”

  Knew what, luv?

  “That we’d seek shelter here from our tormentor.”

  And that symbol keeps the bitch from entering?

  I bent down and hovered my fingers over a patch of Thessia’s bloody work. An energy emanated from the dark crimson, an energy that could only be hers. I could feel it. I knew Thessia as though she was my truest twin, knew the beat of her heart, the flow of her chi. That familiarity was reciprocated, which helped her understand exactly what I’d do, if found facing down the lich.

  So we just pop out of here, back to the living world, and enjoy a life without that … thing?

  “No.”

  What? Why, Grog? Now’s your chance to escape that beast’s clutches, once and for all?

  “And then what, Al? She’ll just chase us down, no matter where we hide.” My voice rose well above indoor decibels. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap. It’s just … if we don’t end that thing, she’ll never give up until we’re all dead. And who knows what twisted master plan she has up her sleeve.”

  Outside a blustery wind kicked up, rattling the boards of the house until they promised to rip off their moorings and fly into The Seduction.

  I stole a quick peek out of a dingy window. “Maybe a cyclone is on its way to kick us into the air.”

  So long as we land on the Wicked Bitch of The Seduction, I’m good with that.

  Had this not been such a dangerous situation, I would have laughed at Al’s lame attempt at lightheartedness. As it stood, there was very little room for joy.

  Grog, we can’t just remain here until that thing grows tired of taunting us. We have to do something.

  The wind kicked up a notch, sending a shutter flinging out into the scarlet, forever night. After that first piece of rotten wood went sailing, a second and third joined in on the fun.

  “Little pig, little pig,” the bitch howled, “if you don’t let me in, I will tear your house down and feast on your sin.”

  The walls of the house vibrated, sending anything attached shattering to the floor.


  Grog, Al screamed in my head.

  Before I could respond, the rending and cracking of wood announced the roof detaching. The entire structure vanished into the darkening of The Seduction’s night.

  Oh fuck, All whispered. This is not going to end well.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, friendo.”

  Well, magic hands, make something happen.

  Al was right—not so much about the magic hands, but me doing something about our current situation. I formed a protective mudra and concentrated on sealing the gaping hole that was once the ceiling of the house. A giant umbrella of energy rose upward to form a union with the walls that, to my shock, were still standing.

  Gazing upward at my handiwork, I spotted her, floating on her scarlet mist, eyes maddening-wide and mouth open to release an asylum-born cry. I was nothing more than a mouse in her trap; it was only a matter of time before she let me loose to play until boredom set in and the death knell sounded.

  “Fuck this shit,” I mumbled.

  Grog, what in the hell are you thinking?

  “Of doing something, Al. I’m done cowering.”

  I didn’t give Al a chance to reason with me. With a swift kick, I sent the front door sailing and stepped through like a boss. Instinct took over. I struck a rock-god pose, with my devil horns held high. It was cliché as hell, but a much-needed comfort.

  I mustered every ounce of confidence I could. “Hey, bitch! Let’s settle this like women.”

  My dead twin sister lowered herself until she hovered a foot or so above the ground; the look on her face was a mixture of curiosity and bliss. Before she had a chance to go on the offensive, I attacked—tossing a ball of pure white electricity into her chest. The energy hit home and sent the lich slamming into a rusted Honda. I launched a second and third orb of righteous hate into the doppelgänger. My spectacular blow forced her body further into the car—the sound of rending and wrenching metal played in perfect counterpoint to the lich’s screams of agony. Glowing filaments traced hypnotic lines from her twisting and writhing body. The aged auto carcass folded in upon itself until it formed a metal burrito around the doppelgänger.