tarnished -- part two -- trekker |
Chapter Four | |
Duality |
As it turned out, the eyeless men with knives did, in fact, prove to be a problem, though, fortunately or unfortunately, the problem was over and done with by the time Ethan arrived. As he let himself into his hotel room after leaving the house, the smell of blood and viscera still seemed to coat his nostrils. They hadn't just been dead, they'd been torn apart. It seemed to be a message, though whether that message was aimed at Ethan himself, or at Giles, or at the Watchers or the world as a whole, Ethan wasn't sure.
In any case, he had to admit to being a bit shaken. He lay down on the bed, and stared up at the ceiling, still seeing swirls of hot red.
"So, you failed, then."
He sat up, and found himself facing his doppleganger again, sitting on the bed beside his.
"Ah. The First Evil, I presume?" Ethan said. "Should I be honored?"
"That depends," it said, "On whose side you plan to be on."
"Never been one for picking sides, really," Ethan said, blithely, though his heart was beginning to pound. He glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see tall shadowy figures outside the window. All he saw was darkness.
"That was before. Things are different now. There are two sides, there is no grey. You're with me, or you're against me."
"Honestly, I can't see the benefit for me if I were, in fact, with you. Given that you represent pure evil and no doubt plan to maim, torture, and kill every human on the planet."
It smiled.
"You've been listening to Rupert too much, my dear. You see, if you join with me, I wouldn't dream of harming you. Quite the contrary. I would give you power beyond your wildest imaginings. You could rule at my side."
It stood then, and walked around Ethan's bed to the window, apparently looking out into the night.
"On the other hand, if you are against me..."
It turned abruptly and spread its arms, and it was no longer his duplicate. It was him, but it was rent open from stomach to throat, purplish guts hanging out in ropes, red, thick heart throbbing under white ribs.
"Gods!" Ethan scrabbled backwards off the bed, scrambled to his feet, felt the other bed pressed against his calves, his own heart echoing that horrible pulse.
"My boys can make it take days," it said, dead eyes glittering.
It walked closer, wading straight through the bed between them until it was mere inches away from him. Ethan couldn't move, all he could feel was the steady throb of panic.
"So you see," it said, voice low and intimate, pink lungs moving with the words, "it's really hardly a choice at all."
Then it was gone, leaving him alone, panting, in a plain hotel room. His knees were shaking, so he let himself collapse onto the bed behind him, sitting and feeling the world spin around him.
tarnished -- part two -- trekker |