Krosha

Police and medical officials have strongly advised the public to not leave their homes unless absolutely necessary due to the recent rise in cases... 

Though it's unsettling to think about what lies in wait for me outside, I find that unemployment and begging for change on the street to be a little more terrifying. Recurring nightmares of homelessness and hardship in the not-so-distant future will do that to you. Despite the fact that I would much rather be curled up in bed with a good book, someone's gotta make ends meet. And as I live alone, that unfortunate task falls on me. Trying my best to block out the news, I close my eyes and take a deep breath before concentrating on getting ready for the day. Throwing on a beige romper, face mask, and flats; shoving my résumé into my knapsack, I head for the door. "Later Whiskers!" I call out to my cat who is meowing softly from her seat atop the couch. Unfortunately, saying a quick prayer as the elevator descends does not help to ease my nerves. All I can really hope for is that I make it to my job interview and back in one piece. After 15 minutes of walking, I exhaled a breath I wasn't

even aware I was holding and avoided making prolonged eye contact with the few passersby I came across on the street. They are traveling just as swiftly as I am, perhaps in an effort to get where they are going safely. I'm about 10 mins away from the restaurant, based on the directions I've saved to my phone. Given that they called me late yesterday asking if I wanted to come in for an interview, I didn't have a lot of time to prepare. Before I get a chance to mentally run over the same questions that people typically end up asking you at these things, I notice a woman across the street

who is dressed similarly to me. If I hadn't taken my eyes off my phone to cross the intersection so as to not be distracted I would have missed it; I wish I had. Normally I wouldn't think anything of it other than being a mere silly coincidence except for the fact that she now seems to be glaring at me. The anxiety now creeping up slowly but surely inside of me at the sight of her has me contemplating on turning around and high tailing it back to my apartment. C'mon Fran, get a grip! You're only a couple of minutes

away from the restaurant, just keep your distance and hope they don't try

anything.

Crossing the street briskly glancing at

her, making sure to keep as much space between us as possible, then it dawns on me; our clothing is identical, not just similar. Right down to the Hello Kitty face mask and cheetah print flats. Suddenly she rushes towards me at a breakneck speed, reaching out, grabbing hold of my chin, and tilting my face up to meet hers. She pulls down her mask slowly and blindsided, it takes me a moment to process her facial features. Once I do it's almost as if I'm gazing into a

mirror, my reflection staring back at me. Maybe I've had a long-lost twin this

whole time I knew nothing about or I'm slowly losing my grip on reality, I'm

more inclined to believe the latter at the moment as I stare in disbelief.

Using my shocked state to her advantage she yanks me out of the horde of people

by the wrist, dragging me into the adjacent alley. "Ah!"

I yell out in surprise, caught off guard by her agility and the hold she now has on me. She has a firm grip around my wrist and is refusing to budge no matter how hard I swat at her, successfully dragging me down the alley. Pulling me behind a dumpster to hide us from any curious onlookers and willing rescuers. Using her free hand to place it over my masked mouth to stifle my screams. 

"Uhmngh!" 

I use all of my strength to scream, kick and shove against her body in an attempt to find a weak spot and escape. 

 "Fran Dana Lee Walker- aged twenty-eight." 

 She whispers. I nearly don't hear her voice and slow down a little in shock that she knows my name and age. 

"Presently, living alone and unemployed at 132 Bakers Dr, marital status single." 

Finally, there is a silence between us and I stop moving entirely. She presses on and continues to disclose personal details about me with an amazing accuracy that only a close friend or a member of my immediate family would be aware of. The verdict is still out on that one, really, since I have no idea who this woman is and she resembles me almost to a T. "Maiden name Smith, parents' marital status is divorced, and mother Margaret May Diane Smith, 55, is currently residing at 42 Suter Rd. in Florida. Tyson Beau Walker, 50-year-old father, last known whereabouts unknown." 

 My ability to fight is waning. Dread, confusion, and a million questions taking its place.  

 Why does this woman uncannily resemble me and who the hell is she? How do they know such detailed information about me? Why is she holding me against my will? And the list goes on. Her eyes flit back and forth I assume checking to see if the coast is clear and her grip on me loosens slightly. "On the count of three, I am going to let go of you. I have a switchblade taped to the back of my ankle, and I won't think twice about using it if you try to run or do anything stupid. Blink once if you understand what I'm saying." Eyes widening at the threat and certainty in her words I promptly blink once not wanting her to think I'm considering the alternative. She nods at my agreement to her terms and proceeds to count down. 

"Three… two… one." 

Freed from her grasp I slowly back up against the brick wall behind me, slumping to the ground. Adopting a neutral expression, she leans against the dumpster weaving her hands through her hair. Her posture and demeanor strike me as relaxed, almost as if she hadn't approached a random stranger on the street, who happens to be her carbon copy and accost them in broad daylight. Probably didn't even break a sweat while I'm currently trying not to hyperventilate. A snap of her fingers alerts me to her presence again, looking more agitated than before. 

 "I don't have a whole lot of time nor energy to talk you down from your oncoming panic attack so I'm going to get straight to the point." She says pointedly. “But in show off good faith I will allow you to ask two questions before I proceed." The clipped tone she uses has me breaking out of my trance somewhat, huffing out a dry laugh.  

 How gracious to allow me to ask two measly questions. Well, I have a hell of a lot more than two questions for her.

 "Any day now." She snaps her patience clearly wearing thin. "We don't sound the same." Blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. Reaching for the dumpster to help pull myself up, finally willingly looking at my "twin" in the eyes. My need for answers spurs some confidence in me, wanting to get to the bottom of this, albeit reluctantly. And if talking to my “twin” appears to be the only way I can escape, then let's play ball. "We don't sound the same." She raises a brow, crossing her arms together. "That's not a question."

"Okay let me rephrase. Why don't we sound the same? Everything else about me you've got down pat but your voice sounds cold, hard," I pause pondering the last word that's on the top of my tongue. Pointing at her as it comes to me a second later. "Distant." 

She lets out a long sigh as if I asked her the most

the weighted question in the world.  

"Because where I'm from it's not smart to sound like anything else other than cold, hard, or distant." She proceeds to reach into her romper, pulls out a picture and

hands it to me. Eyeing her warily I carefully unfold it to find an image of my dad in what looks to be a grassy field of some sort. He looks forlorn and tired

like he hasn't seen the sunlight in days and my face lights up. Earlier on when she was rapidly spouting facts about me she made a

point to bring up my parents as well, muttering something about my dad's location

being unknown. I didn't realize it then because I was still in shock from

walking one minute and being thrown around the next. 

"Is this some sort of sick joke? Are you saying that you had something to do with his disappearance?" I angrily whisper, barely able to find my voice at the thought of something terrible happening to my dad. Painful memories of realizing that he was missing at the beginning of the year come rushing back to me from the photo. And the cherry on top? After filing a missing person’s report with the police they did jack all about it. Chalking it up to him having a midlife crisis, and skipping town to waste his money away on booze, cars, and women.

"No, I'm here to warn you, hopefully preventing it from happening again. They took your father and are going to do the same to many others. I would know they did the same to the people in my world." 

"Your world”

I say aloud wondering what she means by that my temper rising at having more questions than answers at this point in our conversation. "What do you mean by your world, are you from a different country or something? And more importantly where the hell is my dad and who took hi-" 

She wields the switchblade holding it up in front of my face effectively silencing me. "As I've already stated I don't have a whole lot of time and I'm not in the business of wasting it. And I hate to break it to you but you're outta questions so I'm going to go ahead and explain this to you the best way that I can as fast as possible." Taking the photo from me, tearing it, and plopping what looks like to be an old flip phone with grey wires sticking out of it, down in my hand now. 

"Hey what th-"  

"Fran, I'm you from another reality."  

She cuts me off again quickly, my face scrunching up at this knowledge not knowing what to think. I mean it would kind of explain her knowing all of that information about me. If she claims to be me from another reality we'd practically be living the same lives except for a few minor changes. Maybe in her reality, she prefers candy to be sweet, whereas I prefer sour, and takes her coffee black

when I drown mine in sugar. The differences would be small but they're there.

And in all honesty, after seeing the picture of my father who I haven't been

updated about in months due to the police's shoddy work, and the fact that I've come face to face with my

"twin" is a feat in itself, I'm willing to entertain anything at this point.

“Krosha, the species I have come to warn you about, are an annoyingly determined bunch. They crave power and world domination and will go to great lengths to obtain it. They’ve nearly wiped out the reality where I’m

from and when they're done with mine," she pauses staring daggers into my eyes,

"They’re coming for yours.”

Frowning at the picture she's painting for me; an unbeatable foe at the forefront. Doom and disaster lurking just around the corner for my reality. "Information from my sources has led me to believe that your father was in the wrong place at the wrong time and saw something about the Krosha he shouldn't have when he was captured, because they hadn't begun their invasion of your realm yet. What that might be, though, remains to be seen."

Perfect. Not only has my dad been taken captive by a very dangerous species that my world has absolutely no idea exists, but they're also easily capable of traveling through the space-time continuum.

“What about the version of my dad in your reality—perhaps he has some sort of idea about what happened to him?” I perk up

sounding hopeful. "He's gone,"

I exhale with surprise at this realization. “I refuse to let that happen to you.” Taking the flip phone from my hands and turning it on, it makes a loud whirring sound, and the screen turns the green indicating that its

powered on. “There are notes on all things Krosha on this device." She

says placing the phone back into my hands, then looking up into the clear blue

sky and squinting. Almost as if she notices something that I don’t. “My apologies ending things so abruptly but I gotta get a move on.” She backs away from the dumpster swiftly

pulling me in for a tight hug. Giving me whiplash at are conversation ending so

suddenly. “Sorry, I couldn't save him." She whispers then takes off down the alley. “Wait!”

I call out and to my surprise she actually stops. Turning slightly but not all the way. “Are you sure you’re not here to warn me about the other much less dangerous virus that’s been going around as of late and not the creepy alien space creature thing?” She smirks before turning around again “Fraid not.”

And with that, she’s gone. Seeing my phone light up just under the dumpster I reach for it and check the time. It must have fallen during all of the commotion. Ten minutes have passed, if I run I could probably still make it to my interview. “Hmph. And here I thought the pandemic; lack of a full time job and paying rent on time were going to be my biggest obstacles this year. Guess I spoke too soon.” I mutter as I head out of the alley back down to the intersection where I came from. I haven’t decided if I believe her story or not yet but one thing's for certain, I am going to get back into looking into my dads disappearance. I was slowly losing hope there for a second but if these Krosha as she puts it are behind all of this, I’m not giving up without a fight. And Dad if you really are out there in another reality, know that I’m on my way.