From the Dark Side Excerpt: Jennifer Williams’ “The Twin”

Check out an excerpt from the upcoming From the Dark Side charity anthology. Today’s tidbit comes from author/podcaster Jennifer Williams, and it’s titled, “The Twin.” Please be sure to check out Jen’s official blog, and check back tomorrow for another From the Dark Side Excerpt. From the Dark Side goes on sale July 9, 2010, and all proceeds are being donated to the Letters & Light Organization.

The Twin

“You,” I said, and I closed the door quietly behind me. I managed to convince myself over the years that what happened in the fields behind my nan’s house was a particularly vivid dream, like the ones you have when you are full of some childhood fever. To see him again after all this time was like a kick to the stomach, and all of a sudden it was difficult to stand. “What are you doing here?”

The other me smiled and waved the video cassette again, and then walked over to the VCR, cool as anything. As he pushed the cassette into the slot, I saw a mole on the back of his neck, exactly the same as mine. How was that even possible?

There was a fuzz of static and then a dark interior came into view on the TV screen. There were dusty wooden walls and deep shadows- a shed perhaps? Cold dread seeped into my stomach like ice water, and I realized I very much did not want to see what was on the tape.

“You have to leave,” I said, and grabbed the back of his shirt, but my twin shrugged me off impatiently, and tapped on the TV screen.

What he came to show me was now visible.

There was a dog in the half light, or what was left of one. I could tell it was alive from the way it was trembling, but its ribs stuck through its thin fur like bars on a birdcage, and its head hung heavy and skull-like towards the floor. Chains and leather cuffs kept the starving animal secured to the wall, and I could see sores on its neck where it had tried endlessly to free itself. The camera moved from the desiccated dog to the floor, where many small bones were scattered. Some of them were obviously those of smaller dogs.

I pressed my hand to my mouth, while the other me stood up. He pulled a bag out from behind the bed and held it up to me. It was full of video tapes.

“Get out!” I shouted, and my twin just smiled again. Infuriated, I grabbed an old coat of mine off the door peg and slung it over his head, as I took hold of him by the back of his shirt. Roughly I forced him out the bedroom and down the hallway, shoving him out the front door as hard as I could.

When I came back inside my flat mates greeted me with puzzled looks, but I explained it away as a gatecrasher. The bugger was after my Playstation, I said, and they looked suitably scandalized before returning to their cheap lager. The next day, my head thick with a hangover and a constant churning in my stomach, I tipped the contents of the bag down the rubbish shoot, the video tapes unwatched. I didn’t want to know what was on them.