The Doppelgänger: A Psychological Thriller Page 3

  She had gained a few inches after fifteen. Her face was totally different. There was no similarity between her current self and her past self. He wouldn’t be able to recognize her.

  “Here you go,” said Susan, shoving the bouquet at her. “Give him the flowers after they announce his name.”

  “But…” Before Darcy could utter another word, Susan moved to Dr. Stanley, a professor in the Life Sciences department. Darcy stood by the door with the bouquet shaking in her hand.

  Lights dimmed for a moment. The door opened. Darcy’s eyes turned to the door.

  He strode in like a tiger. His shoulders were upright, his vision unwavering and his steps deliberate. At sixty-five, he was the same. Darcy inhaled sharply.

  His presence re-oriented the molecules of her being. His eyes turned toward her. She held the bouquet over her face to avert his gaze.

  His hair was silvery white. His clear eyes, though deeper in their sockets, retained their penetrating gaze. His posture hadn’t changed.

  He walked to the podium. The chancellor wrapped a red robe around him. It was the school’s official color.

  Darcy hated red. Especially on him. Her head spun. A rapier cut across the fabric of her mind, distorting her consciousness. His eyes were on her. Just her. She was conscious of every moment. The bouquet of flowers melted away. He looked at her naked face with his scalding gaze. She was defenseless.

  She heard them scream. She heard herself scream. The lights on the ceiling turned hazy. Her head spun like the blades of a fan. Her knees succumbed to a moment of weakness. A strong grip tightened over her body.

  “Are you all right?” a low voice, whispered. Darcy opened her eyes. She saw a pair of brown eyes. They lingered over her face. She backed away. He had a clean-shaven face that smelled of Old Spice. His masculine scent rushed in through her nose. She stood up with a sudden jerk.

  “I’m fine, thank you,” she said. She picked the bouquet up from the floor. Susan observed the scene and moved closer.

  “Are you all right?” she hissed.

  “I’m not feeling well,” Darcy said, handing her the bouquet. “Can you-”

  “I will.” Susan broke in.

  “I’ll go back to the library,” Darcy said. Susan’s eyes turned to Dr. Cleo who was looking at them. She made a conscious effort not to look at him. If their eyes met, he’d recognize her. To her relief, he went on with the speech. Darcy turned to the stranger who had caught her.

  “Thank you,” Darcy said to him. She saw his brown eyes gaze down at her.

  “My pleasure,” he said. “I’m Michael. Call me Mike.”

  His face was blurry. She nodded weakly, failing to register anything he said. Dr. Cleo’s voice faded away as she slipped through the narrow opening in the door. She hurried up the marble stairs. She entered the library, panting like a dog.

  There were a few students there. They turned to her. They saw her. They saw her weak, disheveled state. She stepped back. Her flimsy heel turned against the raised entrance, landing her butt on the hard marble floor.

  “You okay?” the security guard asked. His eyes looked at her. He had the same blue eyes. Darcy shrieked.

  Everybody’s attention turned to her. Students looked at her like she was crazy. Her clothes were wet. Sweat ran down her damp hair. Her fingers trembled. She heard him breathe.

  “Are you-” his voice was deep and gruff. Just like him.

  Darcy stood up instantly. Her body slid on the marble floor. Her clothes gripped the carpet. Dust stuck to her skirt.

  “I-I’m fine.” she told the security guard who reluctantly backed away. She took three deep breaths before standing up. She picked up her bag and hurried through the slippery corridor, into the washroom. She closed the door, jamming it shut with her leg.

  Darcy stood in front of the mirror, oblivious to the sound of running water. Her eyes turned to her reflection in the mirror. She held her head in her palms and took a deep breath. Her heart sank.

  Fifteen years. Fifteen years later, he had the same effect on her. She felt the heat of his spiteful glare and pictured his crooked smile. The thought of him made every particle in her body vibrate with hatred.

  She painted a smile with her pink lipstick. She buried the lines in powder. She didn’t look like a ghost anymore. She rehearsed her lines and made her way out the washroom.

  She walked to the staff common room and made herself some coffee. It slid down her throat. She felt life return to her cold body. Her blood was warmer, her brain calm and her senses sedated.

  She deserved a normal life. That’s why she had come to England. America was unsafe. She nibbled on her fingernails subconsciously.

  The long, winding corridors of the asylum flooded her mind. Eternal darkness descended over the lonely building.

  She stared at her reflection in the mirror and sighed. Her mask was cracking. She didn’t want to go there again. She closed her eyes and rested her back against the wall.

  The blog.

  Of course, that’s how he found out.

  It must’ve been the blog.

  He knew she was writing those posts. He knew who she was. He knew everything because of the damned blog.

  She closed the tap. The sound of flowing water ceased. She looked at herself. She needed to find out. She needed to know how the author knew about her life.

  The train arrived at 7:02. Darcy stepped into the train. She noticed her heel got stuck in the gap between the train and the platform. She pulled it out. As she did, her heel broke. The train doors closed. She examined the broken shoe. Was it a premonition?

  Darcy limped home. The messy apartment was as she left it. She reminded herself to vacuum once again, in vain before she changed into her pajamas and pulled out a piece of naan bread from the toaster. She sat before the television with the food in her hand and turned it on. The loud football commentary killed the silence. Her neighbor uttered a few loud words, startled by the sudden noise. She turned the volume down.

  Her phone rang. She answered.

  “Hey sis, how’re you doing?” It was Dan, her brother.

  “I’m good,” she said. “How’s the job search?”

  “I’m sorry, I-” she began. Dan had been looking for a job for almost two months and had found nothing. She didn’t want to pressurize him. “If you-”

  “I got a job!” he announced.

  “Really? Wow.” Darcy remarked, setting the bowl of food aside. She turned down the volume.

  “And you won’t believe who hired me.” he said.

  “Who?” she asked.

  “Ambrosia.”

  Darcy dropped the phone. It fell on the carpet. The faint football commentary went on in the background.

  “Hello?” she heard distant echoes of her brother’s voice. “Sis? Are you there?”

  Darcy picked the phone up. She pressed it against her ear.

  “Yes,” Darcy said, trying to regain composure. She gulped. Her eyes trailed across the carpet to the television. “You got a job at Ambrosia?”

  “Yes. It’s been my dream to work here.” be continued, oblivious to the escalating tension.

  “Ummmm.…”

  In thirty years, Darcy had mastered acting. That was the only way to get through life. When one mask began to crack, she quickly put another one on. The transition process had gotten smoother over the years.

  But her acting was useless when it came to her past. It wasn’t her past. It had become her reality. She was still living in that dark asylum.

  “Thank you,” Dan said. “What happened just now?”

  “Oh, nothing. I dropped the spoon,” she lied. “That’s great. Does your girlfriend know?”

  “Not yet. I tried calling her earlier, but she didn’t answer. I’ll
try again.”

  “Do that.” Darcy put in enthusiastically.

  Dan graduated with a Masters in Biochemistry that summer. He had been trying to find a job ever since. Considering the depressed economy, it had proven to be a challenge. She looked at her reflection in the steel spoon. She couldn’t bring herself to smile- not even if she were at gunpoint. Ambrosia was the enemy’s territory.

  “I’m going to call dad later,” he said. Her brain didn’t register the words.

  “Ummmm…” she said, lifelessly.

  “I’m starting next week. It’s here in New York.” He went on.

  “That’s great...” Darcy said.

  “I think I’m getting another call. I’ll hang up.”

  Dan hung up. Anxiety echoed in her heart. What if he found out? What if he found out what happened there? She closed her eyes. She spooned some food into her mouth.

  She couldn’t feel the food sliding down her throat. Her eyes skimmed over the news that flashed on the television. She fell asleep on the couch, to the sound of news. The words were distorted in her mind.

  She lay on her bed that night, staring at the wall. She ran down the corridors. She stopped. Her mother stood behind her. Her body was as ethereal as the moonlight. The image dissipated. Behind her sat Dan, his eyes colored with a familiar fear. He looked at Darcy, begging for help. Begging to save him. Darcy walked closer to him. He held his hand out. Before she could grab it, a gunshot cracked the scene open. Dan fell into the endless void. She ran. Red curtains came down on her. Sticky blood flowed down her palms. She opened her eyes instantly.

  Sweat covered her body. She had the same dream again. She saw his face, again and again, replaying like a broken record player. She walked out of her bed.

  She stood by the window and looked out. The streets were quiet and dark. On the corner of the lamp, she saw a shadow. It was a tall, long shadow that stretched all the way to her doorstep. She took a step back. She jerked the curtains shut. Jagged breaths puffed against the surface of the curtain. The goosebumps subsided. The dark room embraced her.

  She turned. Lights flickered behind the closed curtains. She drew the curtains open, again.

  He was gone.

  Chapter 3

  Darcy walked on the pavement, on her way to work, bumping into three people in rapid succession. The read shot into four branches. As she stood at the crossing, she was lost for a second.. Car horns resonated. She accidentally stepped onto the street. A car brushed past her. The driver mouthed some nasty words before he drove away. She backed off, her knees feeling like jelly.

  She stuttered toward the university library. There were people everywhere. Everybody pointed to her. She turned away, trying to ignore them. Her heels clicked on the road as she sped toward the library entrance. The people grew distant. She buried her hands into the coat pocket. Warmth emanated from the pocket.

  The lights turned green. Darcy crossed the road. She sped into the library building ans stepped into the main door. She walked up the marble staircase to the library. The security guard showed up a minute later. He flashed her a friendly smile to which she didn’t react. She headed to the common room. She removed her scarf and placed it on the stand with her coat. Her hands traced over her beige cardigan.

  Was it real?

  Last night’s dinner made her stomach churn. She held her hands cover her stomach. Her stomach felt like a washing machine, spinning violently. The sensation travelled through her body. The discomfort collided with the anxiety in her heart.

  Tweet.

  A message.

  Darcy felt her heartbeat at the tips of her fingers. She pulled her phone out. She stared at the latest e-mail.

  A new post was up on the website. She clicked on it.

  “Morning,” Jillian remarked. Darcy shoved the phone into her bag, reflexively. She swirled.

  “Jillian,” she said. Jillian strode across the room. She placed her bag on the table.

  Darcy hung her coat on the stand. Jillian’s green eyes examined the large cardboard boxes that lay against the wall.

  “The new books came in today,” Jillian said, eyeing the cardboard carton at the end of the room.

  “Where’s Susan?” Darcy asked.

  “She asked me to get started with these. You’re at the reception again.”

  “All right.” Darcy said.

  Jillian and Darcy unpacked the carton. Books flowed out of it. On top of them lay a book with an intriguing title.

  Doppelgänger

  Darcy didn’t know why the book took her breath away. It was a hardcover book. She picked it up. She felt the smooth, glossy cover. On it was an image of a mirror. A woman was looking into the mirror. Her reflection stared at her.

  Something was different about the reflection. Darcy leaned closer to the book. The reflection’s lips curled into an evil smile. Darcy dropped the book.

  “What-” Jillian bent to pick up the book. She dusted it. She stared at Darcy. Darcy tried to restrain her anxiety.

  “I’m sorry.” Darcy whispered, breathless. She pulled the book away from Jillian.

  “You okay?” Jillian asked. She hesitated. “You’ve been acting…out of sorts.”

  “I’m not feeling well,” Darcy said. “Must be the weather.”

  Darcy turned to the pile of books. “You get on with it.”

  Darcy sat before a blank computer screen at the reception. People went in and out of the library. She looked around to see if anybody was watching her. She was the only staff member at the reception. She faced the desktop background, staring blankly at the screen. Her fingers moved across the keyboard. She read what she had typed. My Diary. She pressed ‘enter’. Search results filled the screen. She opened the My Diary blog page. A new post was up. She scrolled nervously. An image of a long, empty corridor floated on the screen.

  ‘Fifteen Years ago’ the title of the post read. Darcy scrolled.

  Dear diary,

  When I was fifteen, something happened. Something that continues to haunt me fifteen years later.

  Darcy’s eyes turned away in disbelief. She was torn between curiosity and denial. She fought her resistance and read.

  When I was fifteen, I was abducted. It was a humid August evening. My mother and I were the only people in the house. The door opened. Four dark figures emerged. I lost consciousness.

  When I opened my eyes, I was in a dark cell. It was in an abandoned asylum. He imprisoned us. A bowl of unappetizing food was sent to the room twice a day. My body was weak. The food was disgusting, but I ate to live.

  People were caged like animals. They screamed in pain. They didn’t know what was happening to them. But I knew.

  I will never forget the days I spent at the asylum. I thought I’d never see the light again. I was hungry and scared. It was the most horrifying experience of my life.

  The moonlight was my only companion. But I was not alone. Because I was with my mother, I thought I could pull through. Little did I know that those were my last days with her.

  When I thought the misery would end, something horrible happened. He came. He came with a shiny revolver and a crooked smile. I heard his every breath. His dark shadow stretched over me.

  He wanted to kill her. He wanted to wipe every trace of resistance. He was ruthless. The world called him a genius, but he was a monster.

  He opened the door. She lay in the dark cell weakly. I saw her blue eyes mirror his repulsive face. They lit up with fear. He whispered something in a raspy voice. She screamed, but nobody heard her. Nobody except me.

  The shot was fired. Cold blood splashed over my face. It ran down my arms and fingers. It stained my blouse. It buried my happiness.

  She crumbled to the floor, lifeless. Her hand closed over mine. Tears streamed down my face.
He walked away, without casting me a second glance.

  They moved me to another room. I was alone. I had no reason to go on. I never thought I would make it out of there. Blood filled the keyhole and the remnants of my memory. It remained in my eyes, staining them red.

  I cried tirelessly, but nobody heard me wail. Just like hundreds of voices, my voice too died within those four walls.

  That day is etched in my memory. It haunts me every night. I see the self-satisfied smirk on his face grow. I see his reign of terror expand. I see his empire of malice expand. And, I live with that. I live to change that one day.

  That is why, I continue to live.

  Tears sprang from Darcy’s eyes. A stream of salty water ran down her cheeks. She caught herself quickly and wiped away the tears. She took a few deep breaths and checked if anybody was observing her. Mornings weren’t very popular with students so there weren’t many of them. Darcy wiped the remnants of her tears.

  When the fleeting moment of catharsis passed, a dark wave of fear washed her senses. Someone knew. Someone knew everything about her. Soon, everybody would know. He would find out.

  With panic ringing at the back of her mind, she scrolled down. There were many comments. Some offered sympathies while others were disparaging. However, most of them were curious. They wanted to know who she was. So did Darcy.

  Darcy’s fingers covered the surface of the keyboard. Her typing was noisy as a typewriter. She filled in the ‘comments’ box. She cut the comment until it was down to a sentence.

  Who are you?

  That was all she wanted to know. She clicked ‘publish’. Her hands pulled away from the keypad. Darcy cradled her aching head in her palms. She fell asleep on the couch.

  A procession of memories passed her by. The images flashed and cut across the reel of her mind. He was coming. She could hear his footsteps. She saw him coming. The image mixed with another of her mother. Mom. Her surreal face was as real as she remembered it. It faded away. It moved away from her. Darcy’s feet moved. She ran, but she couldn’t hold her.