A Doppelganger

Martin went to say good night to his son, as it was routine since he knew his son would have trouble sleeping if he didn’t. It was a sort of silent tradition between them, one he never forgot to attend.

The room was dimly lit by the lamp, but the father could clearly see there was something unusual about the kid tonight. He looked the same, just with a huge grin that drew from ear to ear.

“You okay, buddy?” he asked. The son nodded, still grinning, before saying, “Daddy, check for monsters under my bed.” The father chuckled and got on his knees to take a look. There, under the bed, was his son. His real son. Pale, trembling, and scared to death. He whispered, “Daddy, there’s someone on my bed.”

Martin closed his eyes and got up from his knees. A slight tremor swept over his body. This kind of situation was not explained at the training courses for young fathers, his personal psychologist didn`t warn him, nobody talked about it at school or at the university. Therefore, he was sure of one thing: what wasn`t in the rules and axioms of life, cannot occur in real life. Martin tried to convince himself that there was no one under the bed. Just couldn't be.

- Buddy, you should get some sleep. And your father should too, - he said, stroking his son on the head. At the same time, the lamp began to blink hysterically, responding with convulsions to his every word.

- Are you sure that there is no one under the bed? –  Something sitting on the cot was smiling ominously.

- Yes, I am. Good night, Mike, - Martin kissed his son on the top of his head and hurried out of the room.

At night, it seemed to him that some voices were coming from his son's room. There were some scratching and moaning sounds penetrating through the pale green wall (the psychologist convinced him that green color had a calming effect on the nervous system and helped to fall asleep).

- Stacy, do you hear that? – Martin was trying to wake up his wife, who was lying next to him, - Stacy?

The woman stretched with displeasure and looked at her husband with her Lemurian eyes.

- Honey, you are tired. Please get some sleep.

Martin couldn't sleep. Not a single sound came through all night. Was something creepy happening behind the serene-looking wall? The man was so scared that he couldn't deal with the situation. He preferred to convince himself that he had just imagined it all. Only in the morning the sounds stopped, and the man plunged into the arms of Morpheus.

He realized it was a dream only when he woke up. Everything happened with amazing plausibility, and even supernatural seemed to be normal and natural for this place. Martin was walking through a long corridor made up entirely of mirrors. But he wasn't the one who looked at him from the mirror. It was someone who looked a lot like him. It seemed that his appearance, voice, gait were mysteriously stolen and accurately copied, but there was something insane, hyperbolized, unnatural in these actions. The man gathered his strength and looked directly into the eyes of one of his multiple reflections. The reflection grinned and screamed shrilly: "Daddy, will you save me?" And immediately hundreds of other copies of him shouted:

Daddy will you save me Daddy will you save me Daddy will you save me Daddy will you save me Daddy will you save me?
 
Martin jumped out of his bed in panic, but the voice did not die down.

- Daddy, will you save me? –  Mike, his son, was standing near the bed. Or it was something very similar to him.

- I will save you from… what? – the father asked and exhaled blissfully, realizing that it was just a bad dream. Just like what happened last evening in the nursery. That`s right. It was just a dream.

- I was under my bed last evening. But you didn`t save me, - said the boy and pouted his plump lips. Only his real son could do that. Martin breathed a sigh of relief and hugged him.

- Daddy will always be with you. Everything will be fine.

-  Daddy will always be with me? Do you promise? – The child's eyes lit up with a neon green light. He put on his crazy smile and clapped his hands.

- Daddy will always be with me Daddy will always be with me Daddy will always be with me!

The whole room seemed to be in the epicenter of an earthquake. Reality has turned into a viscous jelly. Martin fell off the bed and hit his head painfully.
 
The next day everything seemed unreal and insane. Martin could find his child in two places at the same time. "One version" of his son could say one thing, and the other invariably contradicted the first. He thought he was going crazy and had absolutely no idea what to do. The man felt like a lost child.  But the most frightening was that Stacy didn't notice anything strange and continued to live her normal life. She kissed the top of her son's head, not noticing his neon green eyes. Its distorted grimace seemed sweet to her. Martin would have given a lot to be as serene as she was.

- Daddy, why did you stop coming into my room and saying good night? – It asked one evening at dinner.

- Dad… is not feeling well. But I will necessarily go in your room today.

It clapped its hands and began to sing:

Daddy will be with me, Daddy will wish me a good night!
 
Even before Martin opened the nursery door, he had felt that something was wrong. The room smelled of a rotting body. The man slowly went inside like he was a wooden soldier.

The sounds of a music box could be heard in the room, which were distorted and sounded like in a horror movie. And the ballerina from the box seemed to be stained with someone's blood. The nursery was empty.

- Mike? –  Martin heard the sound of his own voice. But it wasn't his voice, - Mike?

Nobody answered him. The stuffiness in the room squeezed his chest, so the man went to the window to open it. Suddenly he tripped over something.
It was his son's rotting leg sticking out from under the bed.
 
- It turns out, that the child's corpse was lying under the bed for two weeks, and you didn't even notice your son's absence ? – The elderly cop looked skeptically at Stacy's bulging eyes. She was sobbing convulsively while giving evidence.

Cops clearly didn't believe her. «No, ma'am, you're not crazy, but can you understand...», «Ma'am, when was the last time you went to a psychologist?»

Cops left, when they were convinced  in the woman's complete insanity. The house was suspiciously empty and quiet. Stacy, distraught with loss, walked around the house screaming. «Mike, where are you?» «Mike, I know you're here, where are you hiding, my naughty boy?" But nobody answered her.

It was at three a.m. when she realized she was insanely tired. She completely forgot that Martin was also in the house. Why cops didn`t interrogate him?

With a heavy feeling in her heart, she entered their bedroom.

The room was dimly lit by the lamp, but she could clearly see there was something unusual about her husband tonight. He looked the same, just with a huge grin that drew from ear to ear.

“You okay, honey?” she asked. Martin nodded, still grinning, before saying, “Darling, check for monsters under our bed.” Stacy chuckled nervously and got on her knees to take a look. There, under the bed, was her husband. Her real husband. Pale, trembling, and scared to death. He whispered, “Darling, there’s someone on our bed.”

Sasha Vashko.

2024.