The Doppelgänger: A Psychological Thriller (7 page)

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.”

“I thought I saw you,” he said, blinking his deep blue eyes. His face titled.

Darcy was still. She was at work on Tuesday. How could he have seen her?

“I thought I heard something in your house. I remembered yesterday.”

“Uh…I can’t remember.” That was the day the photo frame broke. So, someone did come.

“I must’ve seen it wrong,” he said, scratching the remnants of silver hair on his head.

“Headed outside?”

“Yes.”

“Have a good night.”

“You too.” Mr. Hatter disappeared down the corridor.

Darcy remained frozen by the door. So, someone came. Someone that looked like her. Her hollow eyes stared at the empty corridor. She stared at her apartment door. Her eyes moved from Mr. Hatter’s door, which was next to hers to her own.

She opened the door to her apartment and went in and closed the door. Her phone beeped. She pulled the her phone out. Mike’s message flashed on the screen. Her eyes moved to the card on the table that Mr. Hatter had given her yesterday. It was untouched.

At 9:00 the next morning, Darcy stood before the library. The library was fairly quiet. She glanced at her reflection in the window glass. She looked like a zombie. The generous dose of concealer barely covered her puffy eyes. They sunk deep into her eye sockets. Last night had not been easy. She stifled a yawn.

She scanned her card. The doors opened. Her legs felt weak and tired. Her muscles pulled. She walked up the stairs and entered the library.

The line of bookshelves didn’t seem to end. Mr. Hatter’s revelation was what kept Darcy awake all night. The image of the broken photo frame churned in her brain. Someone came to her house on Tuesday. And, Dr. Cleo came on Wednesday. Maybe the psychic was right.

“Darcy.” A deep voice startled her. She turned. Mike stood at the entrance of the library with the book tucked under his arm. He wore another dark shirt with light pants. She was beginning to notice a pattern here.

“Good morning.” she said.

“What’s the matter?” Mike asked, immediately, noticing her troubled expression.

“No…nothing,” Darcy stammered. “Did you finish reading the book?”

“Yes, I did. Thank you. I came to return it.”

He handed her the book. Her eyes remained on the cover. She stared at the image of the doppelgänger on the cover. The evil smiled was etched in her memory.

“How was it?” she asked, anxious. The door opened. A student stepped through.

“So, how was the book? Did you find anything useful?” she repeated.

“I didn’t know you were interested in parallel universes,” Mike remarked.

“I was curious.”

“It was good. An interesting theory but it has a long way to go.”

“What theory?” Darcy asked.

“The author thinks doppelgängers are your mirror reflection in another universe.”

“Really?” Darcy asked. She blinked blankly.

“Unusual, isn’t it?”

“I’ve never heard of anything….”

“It’s an educated theoretical guess at best,” Mike said. “But, an interesting read. There is some convincing proof there, but it’s ahead of its time.”

“That’s a very unique angle,” Darcy said, finding her voice. The cogs of her brain turned rapidly. “Do you think doppelgängers are real?”

Mike stopped. He turned.

“I do. I mean, you see them in the newspapers on online blogs all the time.” Mike said,

The realization drummed at the back of her mind. The blog. The photo. The message. Did she really have a doppelgänger? She composed herself.

“They’re common… I mean, there are people that look like you. Haven’t you seen celebrity doppelgänger photos on the internet?” Mike continued, oblivious to her predicament.

“That’s not the real thing, is it?” Darcy said.

Mike nodded.  “The people in those pictures are similar, not identical.”

“There’s a difference?”

“That’s the difference between the ones from a parallel universe and the ones in our world.”

“The author says that?”

Mike nodded. “He says the similar ones have different destinies but the identical ones have the same destiny.”

“The same destiny?”

“There is another Darcy out there,” Mike said. She stopped in the middle of the street. The cold air swooshed past her. The words had a lasting impact on her mind. Mike blinked. His grey eyes surveyed her intensely. “You okay?”

“I never thought about it that way.” Darcy said.

“Some parts of the book were difficult to follow,” he said. “I need to read it again. I got a few pages photocopied, just in case.”

“Jillian said she saw somebody that looked like her last week.” The words shot out of Darcy’s mouth before she could think.

“Who’s Jillian?” Mike asked, raising his eyebrows.

“The new intern at the library.”

“She saw a doppelgänger?”

Darcy nodded. “She’s worried something will happen to her.”

“Why?”

“You know, they say when you see someone that looks like you, you die.” Darcy said the words with a straight face. “They’re a bad omen. Bringers of bad luck.”

“You believe in that stuff?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen one,” Darcy admitted.

“What if you see one?”

“One from a parallel universe?” Darcy’s heart thudded. Her volume dropped. “I don’t know.”

“I almost forgot,” Mike said. He pulled out a blue pen drive and extended it to her.

“That’s the recording of the play I promised.” he said.

“Thank you. I hope I remember this,” Darcy said. He turned.

“Do you want to meet again?” he asked. Darcy inhaled. “To talk about the doppelgangers? I’m reading another book on the topic. You could give me a few suggestions and we could catch up over coffee.”

“All right. See you on Sunday.” Darcy added, with a smile. 

“Sunday at eleven?”

“Where do you want to meet?”

“There’s a cafe near my place. I’ll text you the address.”

“See you on Sunday,” Darcy said. “I’ll get the pen drive then.”

She watched him disappear down the stairs. He was gone.

At 7:30 that evening, she stood in the train station, again. The phone buzzed. The vibrations travelled through her stomach, tingling her flesh. She pulled it out of her pocket. It was Dan.

“Hello, sis?”

“Dan.”

“Have you seen the news?”

“Did something happen?” Darcy blocked the sound off by placing her left hand over her ear. The chatter made its way to her ears anyway.

“Dr. Williams resigned.” Dan said. The chatter suddenly disappeared. Darcy took a step away.

“What?” The train arrived. 

“You don’t know? It’s everywhere.” Dan continued. People were everywhere. She composed herself. Her legs wobbled on the spot.

“He resigned? Why?” she asked.

“He didn’t give a reason.”

Uneasiness shot through Darcy’s body. She knew why. The image of his shadow on her apartment wall flashed in her mind. His blue eyes were vivid in the reel of her memory. The image inched closer. The sounds surrounding her edged into her space.

The train emerged. Lights blinded her. The crowd moved in kaleidoscopic patterns. This was a dream. It had to be.

“Excuse me,” a stranger said, as her brushed past her. She felt the texture of his fingers. She heard the sound of his leg tap on the floor.

“I’ll call you later.” Darcy threw the phone into her bag. She ran onto the train.

Darcy rushed home. Panic dripped through her intuition, forming an ocean of fear. Something happened. It was a warning. She knew it.

She took a deep breath. The cold wind hit against her terrified face. Panic pricked her eyes. Her fists curled into a ball. She boxed the cold London air. It threw her off balance. Her ankle was perilously close to a sprain. She fell to the ground. Her eyes stared at the dark sky.

The memories flashed like scenes from a horror movie. She knew what went on within the four walls of the lab. She didn’t have the courage to face it. She took a deep breath in. She would figure this out. Darcy had spent fifteen years recovering from the trauma of that incident. And it wasn’t over yet. He had found her. He had come for her last evening.

Dan’s words rang in her mind. She didn’t believe him. She didn’t want to believe him. Her cold fingers pressed her cheeks. What did he want now?

She turned at the bend in the road. The short, empty road greeted her. On one side of it lay her apartment building. Her shoes rubbed on the mortar street until she reached the base of the staircase that led to her apartment. She walked up the stairs and pulled the door open.

When Darcy got home, she was greeted by silence. Smokey was eerily quiet. Mr. Hatter was not home. She dumped her bag on the sofa and walked into the kitchen. It was empty.

Silence.

Cold fear coiled around her neck. She rushed to the television and turned it on. The sound of cheesy pop songs distracted her. She flipped channels. The news was on. She sat on the sofa after pushing her bag on the floor. She began to undo her socks.

Her eyes remained on the screen. She read each word that moved across the screen.

Ambrosia CEO Resigns

For a moment, her eyes closed with disbelief. She pinched herself. The news anchor’s snobbish accent doled some sense into her.

“This morning, Dr. Cleo Williams, the CEO of Ambrosia resigned. An official statement was released at noon confirming the news. No reasons were disclosed. Anna Harrington has more details.”

An image of Ambrosia’s head office in New York covered the screen as the reporter repeated everything the anchor had just said, adding nothing. A crowd of reporters stood outside the tall glass building. A man emerged from the building. He wore a navy suit with a light blue shirt and red tie. His hair was black and his eyes brown. Journalists shoved microphones down his throat. The cameras were so close that she could see the pores of his skin.

“I’m sorry. More details will be out soon,” the manager said.

She rested her back against the sofa. The cushions dug into her lower back. Dan was right.

“Dr. Williams’ resignation has raised questions about the future of Ambrosia,” the reporter continued. “As of now, there has been no announcement of the new CEO. The board of directors is meeting tomorrow to discuss the appointment of another CEO. Anna Harrington for BBC News.”

Darcy flipped TV channels. They were all saying the same thing. It was everywhere. She pulled the blanket closer.

“Dr. Williams has not been seen publicly since his announcement,” the announcer continued.

The words sunk into Darcy’s ears. She stared at the news blasting through the speakers. Smokey scowled, but she was too surprised to turn the volume down. She needed to hear the announcer shouting at her.

Her phone rang. Her eyeballs darted to the screen. Light emanated from under her blanket. She pulled the phone toward herself.

An unknown number.

Her hands didn’t move. The vibration merged with the rhythm of the news anchor’s voice. It dug into her skin, prompting her to take action. She slid her finger on the touchscreen. The timer began to tick.

She placed the phone against her ear. Silence.

“Hello.” Her voice was low.

“Hello? Darcy?” the raspy voice froze her body. Blood beat against the walls of her arteries.

“Hello?” the voice repeated. She wasn’t imagining this.

Darcy pulled the phone away from her ears. She hung up. Echoes of his raspy sank into her bones. She breathed. She struggled to breathe, but she breathed. She had to.

He’d found her.