Identical

If his life depended on killing his best friend, how far would he go to survive?

These are the thoughts that raced through Arlen’s head as he lay in a hospital bed. He glanced over at the bed next to him, where another man lay sleeping. They both shared the same slightly lined, pale face, and had identical dark hair. The rest of the world believed they were twins, but the two identical men shared something else besides a face; a secret.  

6 months before, on a cool day in April, Arlen had woken up. Somewhere in space and time, in an identical bed, another Arlen had woken up as well. Two identical alarms had rung. Four feet had slipped into identical slippers and padded down identical stairs to make identical breakfasts. Then, somewhere along the line, something was different. Both Arlen’s cracked their eggs, but one had two yolks. The other egg cracked open to reveal no yolk at all. Both Arlens had exclaimed in surprise, one in frustration, one in excitement. And then, the Arlen with no breakfast had realized he was out of eggs, cursed, and made sausages instead. Both men had sat down into their chairs and eaten their breakfasts. Everything had seemed to be normal again.

The Arlens had stood up, slipped on their shoes, and stepped outside. Both stood in shock in the doorway. Both exclaimed in frustration. Sitting in the driveway of the Arlen who had eaten sausages, there were two cars. Another car had seemingly crashed onto the top of his car, rendering it unusable. The Arlen who had eaten eggs saw no car at all. Both Arlens had cursed, and taken the bus, though the Arlen who now had two crushed cars had stood in the driveway scratching his head for a moment first.

The bus had pulled up to the bus stop. The Arlen with no car had gotten on, annoyed at having his car stolen, but confident it could be recovered. As he had sat down, however, he had seen something very peculiar. Another him, sprinting down the street, yelling, “Wait! Wait! I have to get on the bus too, wait!” The bus had stopped, and an out of breath Arlen had boarded. He had stood, leaning heavily on one of the ceiling handles, doubled over. He had looked up. Both men had looked at each other, had seen their look of surprise mirrored on another face, and passed out.

After waking up in a hospital, the very same hospital they were at now, the two men had discussed what happened, and after a few breakdowns and a lot of disbelief, they had come to a conclusion. Something went wrong, they were sure of that, but they didn't know what. It seemed that the yolk from one of their eggs had ended up with the yolk of the other’s. Same with the car. One car transported to another dimension, the other crushed underneath. Evidently, this is what happened with the two Arlens as well. One of them had been transported to the other’s dimension.

 They figured out which one of them had been transported by looking at the cars in the driveway. They went home and saw two cars, and thus came to the conclusion that this was the dimension of the Arlen who had eaten sausage and had his car crushed. So they decided that Arlen 1 could keep his name, while the other would pick a new one. Arlen 2 became Allen, and the two moved in together. Each was very wary of the other, but they couldn't come up with a better solution where they were not housemates. They soon warmed up to each other, finding that they, unsurprisingly, had a lot in common. The strangest part was that everyone else in the world was under the impression that Arlen and Allen were twins. Even their parents and older sister believed this.  

For months things had some resemblance of normalcy, Arlen and Allen living a peaceful life. Allen had to adjust some, but for the most part, his life in Arlen’s dimension was the same as his old one. Then one day, they both got a fever. It was minor, and gone by the next day. Then, a week later, they both started having uncontrollable fits of coughing. This too was gone within a few days. Over the next month, they both had worse and worse symptoms, until the day they both collapsed. 

And woke up in this hospital. The hospital where they were now. The hospital where Arlen lay thinking. He had concluded that the sickness must be caused by prolonged exposure to one’s interdimensional counterpart. In the next bed, Allen had been thinking the same thing. They were the same person after all. And so Allen slept, and Arlen plotted. Then Arlen fell asleep, and Allen plotted. They both knew there was only one solution, and they both knew that when the time came, they might not be able to pull the trigger.  

They were dispatched 3 days later. They went home and sat down to watch television together. But neither was really watching. They were both plotting. They finished a movie and went to bed, Arlen to his bedroom and Allen to the guest room which was now his. And so they lay there in their respective beds, thinking. And it came to Arlen that whatever he was thinking, Allen was too. The same thought struck Allen. And so they became paranoid. The next day, Arlen invited their friend, Jason, over, thinking he would be safe around another person, only to find that Allen had already called him. Jason arrived laughing at the two “twins”, who glared at each other from either side of him. But both knew deep inside that they wouldn't be able to do it, and, realizing the other thought the same, their paranoia eased. They stayed watchful around one another but knew nothing would happen.  

Until the day Allen collapsed again. Arlen sat beside him and thought about calling an ambulance, but what if this was his way out? Surely he had been the one to collapse for a reason, after all, it was ARLEN who was here first… He stood up and began walking towards the basement, where he knew the safe was kept. Arlen reached the safe and, turning the lock, had doubts. What was he doing? This was his best friend, this was… Him! He was about to shoot his other self- his hand faltered on the lock and he began to draw it away, retreating towards the stairs, pulling out his phone to call an ambulance after all.  

Halfway up the stairs, Arlen doubled over in pain. His stomach was burning! He collapsed and rolled down the stairs, coming to a stop at the bottom. He had to do it. He had to kill Allen, no, Arlen… He crawled towards the safe, reaching up towards the lock. He desperately turned the handle, number to number, gasping in pain. He would be able to do it. He had to. He wasn’t going to be the one to die today!

The safe was open. The gun was in his hand. If only he could stand- a shadow passed over the top of the stairs. Arlen’s eyes widened. Every sound got louder. A creak on the stairs. Then another. A voice- whose was it?

“We both- ugh- we both know we could do it- oof- if our life depended on it-,” it was Allen, or rather, the other Arlen. Something glinted in his hand, he was leaning heavily on the banister. Could it be- a knife? He had collapsed next to the kitchen! Arlen’s heart beat faster with every footstep he heard. The other man was getting closer, closer, closer! He squeezed his eyes shut, lifting the gun, pointing it blindly, and- he couldn't pull the trigger. His fingers refused to move, even as he begged them to. He began to cry, deep heaving sobs. Move, fingers, move! His hand squeezed a little tighter. So did his eyes. Through his eyelids, he saw a glint of light. He opened them an inch and saw light dancing on a blade. A blade in the hands of- he looked up farther and saw himself. The light flashed towards him and finally, his hands obeyed! The trigger was pulled, and Arlen was deafened by the bang, and Allen, Arlen, was falling, falling, falling, and the knife was flashing, flashing towards Arlen! The blade plunged towards him, but he felt no pain. He laughed.  

“You couldn't do it!” he choked, “You really couldn't! I could and you- cough- couldn't!” His laughter gave way to a fit of coughing and he felt warmth, and reached for his stomach. His hand came away red. Panic set in. “You could-” and the last thing he saw as his eyes closed was the other Arlen, lying dead on the floor.