The Doppelgänger: A Psychological Thriller Page 8

  Susan burst into the room. Darcy turned to the window.

  “Where were you?” she asked, looking at Darcy. “I thought you’d had an accident or something.”

  “The train was late,” Darcy said.

  Susan turned to Jillian. “You don’t look very well today.”

  “Yesterday, I saw someone who looked just like me,” Jillian said in a low voice.

  Darcy froze. Her neck didn’t budge as her eyeballs moved. The words pricked the back of her neck. She slammed the cup of hot chocolate on the table.

  “Are you sure?” Susan asked, tilting her head.

  “I saw her at the train station….it was somewhere near the Loop,” Jillian went on.

  “Are you one of a twin?” Susan asked leaning closer.

  “No, I’m not,” she said.

  “That’s…that’s really strange,” Darcy said scratching her chin. “Are you sure you saw somebody?”

  “I thought about her all of yesterday,” Jillian said. “And I’m sure I saw her.”

  “Oh, there are all kinds of lookalikes these days,” Susan said. Jillian turned, nervously. Her shaky fingers curled over the warm cup. “Did you see that e-mail about Angelina Jolie’s lookalike? I thought it was another image of her.”

  “I saw that one,” Darcy confessed then turned to Jillian. “Some people look similar. I don’t think you should be worried.”

  “There are those people, right?” Jillian muttered. She dunked the cup of coffee into the dustbin. “It’s disturbing to know there is someone who looks like you.”

  “Why is it disturbing? I always wished I had a twin,” Susan said.

  “She was not my twin,” Jillian said. “She was a doppelgänger.”

  A moment of silence filled the room. Darcy smelled the coffee and the hot chocolate clearly for a moment. The cold outside the window bit into her skin. She didn’t speak. The door opened.

  “We need a few hands-” one of the library staff stood at the door, looking at Jillian.

  “I’ll be there.” Jillian said. Darcy stood wordlessly as Jillian ran out the door.

  “That girl’s been reading too much science fiction,” Susan said, sounding like an old grandmother. “Doppelgänger? I wonder how she came up with that.”

  “I’ll go and help out downstairs.” Darcy said immediately. Darcy hung her coat and rushed out of the door. She pressed for the elevator and stood beside it. Jillian was next to her.

  “What’s so scary about seeing your doppelgänger, anyway?” Darcy asked, ticking her fingers on the mirror.

  “Haven’t you heard the stories?” Jillian asked. The elevator door opened. The two women stepped in. Jillian pressed the button. The door closed.

  “What stories?” Darcy asked. Her shoes clicked on the hard floor. Jillian stopped. She turned to face Darcy. Jillian didn’t blink.

  “They say when you see someone who looks exactly like you, you die.”

  Darcy stomach turned queasy. The eggs she ate for breakfast churned in her belly.

  “It’s supposed to be back luck,” Jillian continued.

  The elevator doors opened. Darcy didn’t move. Jillian stepped out. Jillian said something in the background but Darcy didn’t register her words. The elevator door began to shut. She closed her eyes.

  “Are you coming?” Jillian asked, pressing the button. The doors opened wide.

  “Huh? Yeah.” Darcy said.

  At 1:00 PM, Mike arrived at the library. Darcy stood at the reception waiting for him. She waved to him. He waved back. He took long strides, closing the distance between them. His hair was ruffled. His eyes were puffier than she remembered. Red lines were visible on the white surface of his eyeball.

  “You’ve been working hard.” Darcy noted.

  “Deadline.” he explained with a shrug.

  “I looked through the library catalogue. We stock that book,” Darcy said, in a low voice.

  “That’s good news,” Mike said. “But I’m not a student. Can I still borrow the book?”

  “I had a word with Susan. She says researchers from the public can borrow books but I need you to fill out a form and give me a proof of identity. Your social security number?”

  “I think I got my ID card…” he said, digging into his pocket. “Will my driver’s license do?”

  “Yes.” Darcy took a step toward the library. “Come on in,” she said.

  Darcy walked to the reception and handed Mike a form.

  “Fill this out. I’ll get the book for you. You can reserve it next time by calling in advance or using the online system.”

  Mike began filling out the form.

  “I’ll need a copy of your driver’s license and social security number.” Darcy said.

  “Um…sure. Here is it.” Mike said, handing her the driver’s license.

  “Thank you.” Darcy said. She sat before the computer and entered the details in the system. Mike finished filling out the form and handed it back to her.

  “Thanks. I’ll process it,” she said. “Wait a second, I’ll get the book.”

  Darcy stepped away from the main desk and went into a room filled with reserved books. She swiped her card. A beep resounded, and the door opened. Darcy stepped in and found the book. She headed back to the main area with the book.

  “Here you go.” She said, handing it to Mike.

  “Thanks a lot. I couldn’t find this one anywhere. I owe you one.”

  “I thought you were writing an article on parallel universes,” Darcy said.

  “I am,” Mike said.

  “What do doppelgängers have to do with parallel universes?”

  “A lot, apparently. I’ll have to read the book to find out the details,” he said.

  “Hmmm…now, I’m intrigued,” Darcy swallowed. “When does the article come out?”

  “In three months,” he said. “If I get it done by then.”

  “Can you check out the book by yourself?”

  “Yeah… I think I know how to use this machine...I think,” He added with a smile. “Thanks a lot for the help.”

  “You’re welcome. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  Mike turned. His back was covered with a brown coat. He took a step then, turned around.

  “Have you eaten lunch?” he enquired.

  “Not yet,” Darcy said.

  “Want to grab something?”

  “Sure.”

  They walked to the university cafeteria. The cafeteria smelled of soup, cake and stew. Students filled the steel chairs and tables. One of the cafe staff smiled at Darcy. Darcy and Mike grabbed lunch and sat on vacant chairs.

  “Lunch hour rush,” Mike remarked. Darcy nodded. He unwrapped his sandwich. “Last week, I came across a recording of the play we did at university. Macbeth, remember?”

  “I don’t think I have that one,” Darcy said.

  “I’ll give you a copy,” he volunteered. “If you want one.”

  “I would love to watch that one,” Darcy said, biting into the sandwich.

  “Brings backs memories,” Mike said, with a distant look in his eye. “University life seems like a long time ago.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” Darcy said, more relieved than nostalgic. “Before you know, ten years are gone.”

  “Exactly. I’ve been so busy trying to run the magazine. We’re starting a series of podcasts next week. Time flies.”

  “What kind of podcasts?”

  “I’m interviewing some scientists and professors,” he said before biting into his food.

  “So, what’s this about doppelgängers and parallel universes?” Darcy asked.

  “I came across the book while doing research. It adds an interest
ing twist to the article, don’t you think?”

  “Hmmmm….” Darcy swallowed the piece of sandwich.

  “I’m looking for people who’ve seen doppelgängers.”

  The sandwich got stuck in Darcy’s throat. She coughed violently. Her eyes filled with water.

  “Are you okay?” Mike walked to the water machine and got her a glass of water. Darcy drank the water. The piece of food slid through her food pipe.

  “Thank you.” Darcy said, placing the glass of water on the table. She drank some more. Mike was done. She shoved the rest of the sandwich into her mouth quickly.

  “Do you know someone who’s seen a doppelgänger?” Mike asked, his gaze narrowed.

  “Uh…no…” Darcy stammered. “I’ve seen those photos online, you know?”

  “Yeah. I know what you mean,” Mike said. “I’ll see you when I come to return the book.”

  “See you. Don’t forget to get the recording.”

  He waved, without turning. He crossed the road. She saw him disappear down the turning of the street.

  Darcy stood next to the building, staring into the distance.

  At 7:30, she stood inside Chicago station of the Red Line. Her feet traced long, slow steps on the ground.

  A full train passed by. She stared at the blurred images. The crowd whispered loudly. The buzzing sounds were the background music to her thoughts. Her mind reeled back to what Jillian said. Had she really seen a doppelgänger? Did they exist?

  “Excuse me,” someone whispered behind her. A stranger squeezed between her and the door. She moved away. The train stood before her. The doors were open. She walked into it, unsteadily. The doors closed. Bodies squeezed against her. The train departed. Her breaths were shallow. She only breathed normally once the train reached Damen. She walked back to her apartment building.

  She saw a tall figure walking out of her apartment from the distance. Her feet froze. The rustling of grocery bags made her body vibrate with fear. She reflexively stepped back, merging with the shadows.

  An old man emerged from the door. He wore a long, grey coat. His silver white hair was neatly pressed on his scalp. Darcy strained to steal a glance at his face. He turned. The blue eyes shot through the dark like a missile. The street lamp outside the apartment building illuminated his distinct features. Pale skin. Clear blue eyes. Crow’s feet. White hair.

  Darcy dropped the grocery bags. She slapped her mouth shut with her hands. He turned around, startled by the noise. Darcy moved behind the trees. Her breathing was uneven. Had he seen her? She didn’t turn. The sound of footsteps grew distant. She breathed with relief. The coated figure’s image faded away. He was gone.

  She came out of hiding. Her legs sank to the damp grass. The wet mud soaked through her clothes. Her hands reached for the grocery bags. She rubbed her eyes. Her heartbeat drummed in her skull. This wasn’t a dream. He really was here. She remained still, careful to avoid his gaze. He glanced at her direction. She turned. The sound of his footsteps grew distant.

  She stood up slowly, collecting her thoughts. She took slow, calculated strides toward the door and turned the handle. Thoughts crossed her mind like a bullet train. She climbed a flight of stairs to her apartment on the first floor. The door was closed. She Her hand fell on the door handle. It was locked. She breathed with relief. He hadn’t been inside her house. The cold sensation of steel solidified between her fingers.

  Mr. Hatter’s door opened.

  “You’re back?” he asked. Smokey walked out of the door, scaring Darcy with her intense gaze.

  “Good evening, Mr. Hatter,” Darcy said, formally. He examined her.

  “Somebody was here to see you a while ago,” he said. “I told him you weren’t in.”

  Him.

  “Who was it?” Darcy asked, her voice sinking an octave. Mr. Hatter pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to Darcy.

  “He left this.” he said. Darcy’s eyes fell on the card.

  Dr. Cleo Williams

  CEO, Ambrosia Pharmaceuticals

  Those words took her breath away. Her shocked eyes burned holes on the card. Her eyeballs were paralyzed. She didn’t look up. Every particle of her being vibrated with fear. He found her. For fifteen years, she’d been hiding from him but he finally found her. Her heartbeat escalated, instinctively. The light on the ceiling of the corridor was suddenly brighter than the sun. Its overpowering light made her weak.

  “Are you okay?” Mr. Hatter asked.

  “Um…yeah…” Darcy whispered, her eyes still fixed on the card.

  “Nobody unfamiliar came. I was watching,” Mr. Hatter continued. His voice seeped in through the crevices between her thoughts.

  “Thank you,” Darcy uttered, snapping herself out of a hallucinatory nightmare. Mr. Hatter began to walk away. Darcy pulled her apartment door open and rushed in. She shut the door and took a moment to get her senses back. The rapid heartbeat slowly stabilized.

  The first thing she did after dumping her bag on the couch was head for the bedroom. She jerked the drawer open. The photo lay on the surface. It was untouched. She closed the drawer. Then, she closed her eyes. She sat on the carpeted floor, her mind numb.

  He came. He came for her. He knew. He knew who she was. Her eyes were blinded by the words on the card. The words encircled her thoughts and swam in her mind. He had come to her house.

  She knew one thing. She couldn’t run anymore. She had to do something.

  Chapter 9

  At 9:00 AM, Darcy walked through the library doors. She was the first one to arrive. Darcy went straight to the washroom, trying to calm herself. She lay her eyes on her face. Her blonde hair was back to brunette. She dyed it again. Blonde wasn’t her color.

  The door opened. A student entered the washroom. Darcy locked herself into one of the toilets and rubbed her chest with her hands, in an attempt to calm her heartbeat. She closed her eyes. She saw his face. Darcy opened the door and walked out. She took slow, deliberate steps to the staff common room. She placed herself on a chair and spaced out.

  Jillian arrived five minutes later. She hung her camel coat on the stand, revealing her blue dress. Jillian’s usually optimistic face was plastered with concern. Susan followed her.

  “What’s up with you?” Susan asked. “Still thinking about the doppelgänger?”

  “Yeah, yeah, make fun of me all you want,” Jillian retorted. “I really saw one.”

  “All right.” Susan threw her hands up in the air.

  “What’s on the agenda today?” Darcy asked, hanging her coat on the stand.

  “You’re at the reception again, Darcy. I’m sorry I keep making you do reception duty but the students like you.”

  “You’re just saying that to make me substitute.”

  “Whatever works,” Susan said, with a shrug. She began to walk away but turned halfway. “You’ll have to stay late once the exam season begins.”

  “I’m dreading it,” Jillian said. “It hasn’t been long since I graduated. I still remember the exams.”

  “The only thing I remember is how dreadful they were,” Darcy said.

  “All-night parties, last minute studying-”

  “You’re already missing it?” Susan asked.

  “At least I didn’t have to worry about paying back my student loan!”

  “I told you. This job gets boring pretty fast.” Darcy said, patting her shoulder.

  The three of them dispersed and got to work.

  Darcy walked home from Damen that evening. The sharp chill bit her exposed hand. She shoved her hands into her pockets. She approached the apartment. She basked in the dim glow of the black Victorian street lamp before taking another step. The road was empty. The cold wind hit her face. She brushed past the railing to the main door. She turned
the key and walked into her apartment.

  She didn’t hear Smokey’s shrill mews. She relaxed into the chair and turned on the television. The BBC news anchor announced yet another dismal piece of news. It was either terrorists or natural disasters. Darcy walked into the bedroom and undressed. She slipped into her pajamas and placed herself on the couch. She flipped channels until she heard a faint sound in the corridor. The hair on her hands stood up. She turned the volume up. Her hands reached for the phone.

  She got a text.

  I’m coming by tomorrow.

  -Mike

  The doorbell rang. Darcy hesitated. She remembered the image of Dr. Cleo outside her house. It could be him. Maybe he had come to check on her. She stood up. Her hands reached for the drawer. She pulled out a revolver from the drawer and inched toward the door. Her breaths fogged on the surface of the revolver. Clutching the revolver in her hand, she approached the door. Her eyes were fixed on the peeping hole on the door. It was Mr. Hatter. She breathed. She hurried back to the drawer and shoved the revolver into it.

  The doorbell shrieked again. Darcy opened the door.

  “It’s me.” Mr. Hatter’s familiar voice soothed her edgy nerves.

  “Coming.” she called out. She rushed to the drawer and shoved the revolver in. She opened the door.

  Mr. Hatter stood outside her door, curiously examining its texture. He turned. She flashed a smile.

  “How was your day?” she asked, clueless. He wore a black leather jacket and a pair of old jeans.

  “Good. Yours?”

  “Good. Good. Nobody showed up today either. I wanted to let you know,” he said. He fiddled with his fingers.

  “Thank you. I appreciate it,” Darcy replied. He smiled. He took a step and turned around.

  “By the way, why did you stop by on Tuesday afternoon?” he asked.

  “Me? Tuesday afternoon?” Darcy’s fingers lingered on the door. “I was in the library.”