Errant Knight

I start stumbling out into the cold, and walk in a general direction. Lack of taste, check. Drowsy perception and coordination, check. I keep checking my watch at the time. Almost midnight.

Around midnight, I start to realize most of the noise in the city I’m in has disappeared. I’m in the wrong part of town, where the witching hour has turned the general area into a literal ghost town. This isn’t what bothered me, and why I quickened my pace and slowed it down, gathering a confusion in my mind. My footsteps echoed around another. I was being followed.

A corner of my heart was filled with a desire to grab the bastard, but I was lost enough anyway, and had a life to lose. There was a mattress waiting for me at home. I turned a corner and started looking for shadows. A small alleyway caught my eye and I folded into it, waiting. An invasive thought popped in that I should scare the guy. Maybe mug him instead, I thought. None of these ideas developed further than this when he passed by.

It was a Knight. I bit my hand as he passed, the clanking and tinking of his armor echoing with every step. Sound started to fill the city again as well, my ears popping from a sudden pressure. I felt colder, suddenly. I breathed into my hands and stepped out of the shadow, the man in the suit of armor clanging along the road ahead. Despite the irony, I started to follow him.

Only a few minutes later, we had rounded back to the bar I had just departed from, and he leaned down. He dropped a longsword onto the sidewalk and took off his armor piece by piece. I approached quietly, and he spoke. “Didn’t want to bother you this evening, but I’ve been looking for you, and I needed you safe.” I swallowed and reached in my pocket for a stick of gum, something to anchor my senses.

He took off his helmet and I started sweating. In every way, undeniably, he looked just like me. He was even wearing my clothes under the armor. The only error in this copy was a long scar that swung from around his neck which he covered with a white scarf. From inside the helmet he took out some leather gloves and put them on. He motioned for me to take a seat with him on the sidewalk.

“First off, we’re not the same. I’m no future version of you or descendant. We’re different, but the same.”

“Did you come for the money? Did Brian send you?”

“I’m not the Duke of Death, either. Look. You committed a terrible crime. You got away with it. Your riches are safe. These are facts. What comes next doesn’t involve any of that.”

“Why find me if you’re not here to punish me?”

“Forces that be wish for this world to change. I can facilitate that change. With your means, I can do so quite easily. The deal is this: you don’t want to carry the weight of your brother’s loss, but I can do that for you. We can trade roles.”

“Trade places? You be me, then? But then, what are you?”

“I’m a Knight. I travel between worlds. Sometimes play snake, sometimes play cherub.”

“You play?”

“Life is a play. Don’t tell anyone.”

The morning snaps into focus and I realize I had blacked out in the middle of our conversation. The talk about the transition. I turn in pain and see him sitting cross-legged in a kind of meditative posture. “Help.” I croak. “I can’t help you, I’m not from here. I have no money, no information.”

I start to mentally navigate the night prior. This was a clone of me. He wanted us to trade places so he could change the world. It felt almost cult-like, but how could I question it? He could go to work for me, adjust to the world almost like a tourist. And my consequence, for what I did? Erased.

I flop out of bed more violently than I anticipated, feeling blood rush to the head on impact with the wood flooring. I live on the fifth floor of an apartment building and question if I’m going to hear knocking. But the sound never comes. Instead, I rise from the early dead and speak the magic words.

“Get dressed, we gotta get breakfast.”

Orin’s Diner, coffee and pie. Country fried steak and eggs. Black coffee with tons of sugar. The Knight sat impatiently across from me as my eyes glazed over the menu. Nausea flashed back and forth in focus. He was talking, again.

“Are you sure you are fit for this transition?”

“My consequence is eliminated if I take your word, right? You’re being honest with me.”

“Of course I’m not, John. We are dishonest people.”

The waitress came, but I couldn’t even get a word out before the Knight spoke, matching my speech in manner and form. “Can we both get an order of country fried steak with eggs, and some black coffee? Thanks.”

I coughed into my jacket. “How long have you been doing this? Trading places, I mean.”

“Seven hundred years. Time dilation accounts for the majority of it, though. I’ve spent a lot of it dead.”

“So we do go somewhere when we die.”

“Naturally. I don’t prefer it. You don’t face consequence so much as you face yourself. It’s where you’d go if you take my offer.”

“So you’ll kill me and take my place?”

“Naturally.”

I sweat and lean back, facing him head on. “With the sword?” He glared at me in silence for a moment. “The sword isn’t for you. The way you go is your choice. I like something that limits my suspicion when it comes to my place in this world. We can go anywhere you want if you want to simply disappear, but I need to confirm that part.”

“Backpacking, then? Go to the Appalachian Mountains, find a skinwalker-”

“Not funny.” I started to feel a sense of guilt as I realized the Knight found me repulsive. No, maybe not repulsive as much as… Adverse. Incorrect in manner and form. Maybe this was more about ego, then. “How did your previous selves go?”

“Most opted for a bonfire. You’d be surprised… We’re a cursed… Variation. Some things have stayed the same. We embrace family willingly, and to the bitter end. We also have a knack for finding trouble, and triumphantly coming out unscathed. We are also a guilty party. Our victories come with a price. Like this. I visited you on the eve of your return.”

“What do you know about what happened?”

“I know everything. I saw it happen.”

The coffee and food came, and I dug in almost instantly. The Knight continued, me half-listening until something caught my ear.

“Your brother shot three people. Why?”

Blood pumped into my ears. Get me out of this. He panicked, get me out. “Let’s not talk about that. Focus on the deal.” I swallowed and tensed up as I raised my head. The Knight was smiling. “I’ll avoid this subject. But if you are to leave this world, you need to bring nothing with you to the after.”

“Were you one of the hostages?”

“I was. When you guys ran, I was still there. I didn’t need a mask. You just didn’t notice me.”

“Guess you think I’m pretty fucking stupid.”

The Knight grabbed a fork and knife and pointed them at the plate in front of him. “You’re not. You just played your role, kiddo.”

As we left the diner, I found myself starting to cry. On the subject of the victims, I started replaying the night in my head. Again, and again, I saw him lose control. He wasn’t getting the attention he needed to maintain authority. He wasn’t controlling the crowd, he couldn’t. He only had a gun, and more bullets than he wanted to use. We were like children with big toys, and big ideas.

He got mad. Brian always got mad when he was ignored, and eventually they did just that. They started talking shit about just having to wait to see us get taken out, and he started firing. And then the place got swarmed, and we booked it.

But how could I miss my face in the crowd? What was I even thinking to realize my future was decided? Did Brian even matter? What was his role? Where was his double?

The Knight shook my shoulders as I cried and looked at me. “Make peace with this. He made his choice. He wanted you to live. Here you are, alive. And the world will be better for it. I promise you that.”

“In the after, would he be there?”

“Brian has passed on. There’s no point in looking for him.”

“Then I’ll burn the money. It’s not mine.”

“I need the cash if this is to work. John. Focus.”

I walked away from the Knight suddenly and walked in a general direction. He followed my softly behind me. “We’re a variation. We aren’t original, or special. Our choices follow a pattern of behavior. And you’ve seen this for hundreds of years. Right?!” I turned back to him and he stopped, a distance from me. He nodded. He was ready for it.

“And we’re two liars. The deal’s off. Grab your shit and go.”

I looked at the Knight as he got back in the armor. “You have no use for this money. Half a million dollars is just weight for you. You’ve got nobody on your side to protect you if anyone else finds out.”

I crossed my arms as he touched the helmet. He was still looking at me with my eyes, but there was an impatience, then. I eyed the sword. “You’re trying to change my mind? Might as well tell me to jump out that window.” A small flash of light glinted as I looked towards it, and as I looked away, the Knight had disappeared.

I looked back once again as a clicking began to sound outside of my apartment door. A red dot flashed between my eyes from across me, beyond the window, and in an empty apartment on the other side of the street. I blinked slowly and reeled back, one shot hitting dead center in my chest as I flopped off of the bed. I screamed and cried as they picked the lock. I vaguely recognized them from the diner. Did anyone even see the Knight? See my twin?

I must’ve been dreaming, I thought. I must’ve been going crazy this whole time.

I bled on the floor as they pulled up the mattress, revealing the weight of consequence underneath. Cash, untouched. I bled on the floor as the sniper packed his things and left. I bled and I went.

From the cold, I walked out to a warm room. It was mostly dark except for a big window, where moonlight poured in over the Knight. I approached him quietly, and he frowned. “By design, and on time. Are you alright with this?”

I looked around to find myself disembodied. I had nothing to gesture with to shrug or to feign disappointment. “I just didn’t expect it to be so fast… Are you even real? I’m losing my mind, man…”

“No. You’re just dead. We are liars, but we’re also bad ones. I said I would clean up after it. I’m here with you to do just that.”

In the moonlight, the Knight brought his sword up and unlatched his chestpiece from his armor. “The equipment is still good. Keep it polished when you can. It gets tarnished if you remain here for too long. There are others, here. Avoid them. You are what you can trust.”

“What-”

The Knight turned the blade to him, and sank it into his chest with lethal force, letting out a noise of pain and panic at even the idea that death would come, the ultimate. I blinked in recognition of the truth, that he was not taking my place in the world. I was taking his place as his immortal. His memory would fade and would continue with another variation. His work, however it manifested, would continue. He was a liar, alright.

For I am Death.