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The Three You's

It was three a.m.; he was sitting alone in his kitchen, furiously typing away on his laptop. His deadline was less than three hours away, and he was only a fourth of the way done with the new chapter for his upcoming book, 'Shadows'. His publisher was going to kill him if he requested another extended deadline; maybe she would even quit working with him.

He didn't know, and he certainly didn't want to find out.

His eyes were glued to the screen, so he didn't notice when a shadow ran across the kitchen floor and into the bathroom.

His phone suddenly rang. 'Who would be calling me at this hour?' He thought, raising his eyebrows. He shrugged, picking up the mobile device. He thought maybe it would be Anne, his publisher, ready to begin her ritual nagging, but the number was unknown to him.

"Hello?" He answered tiredly.

"Hello, Andy." An unknown voice spoke on the other end. It was deep, raspy, much like his own, but it had an edge to it.

"Who is this?" Andy asked, leaning back in the wooden chair.

"What are you doing this fine morning?" The voice asked aloofly.

"What? Who is this? What do you want? How do you know my name?" The man was getting annoyed. He had better things to do than talk so some useless person trying to be funny.

"I'm in your house, Andy…." The phone went dead.

He placed his phone on the table, shutting his laptop. He walked over to the kitchen counter and pulled a large butcher knife from the holder and gripped it tightly. He looked everywhere around him, and he saw nothing.

"WHERE ARE YOU?!" He shouted into the darkness. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"

Nothing made a sound.

A masked figure stepped out of the shadows of the bathroom.

"Why are you in my house?" Andy shouted, pointing the knife at the masked man.

"Why do you ask?" The figure asked calmly, sarcastically, inching closer and closer to the man.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Andy shouted enraged. His face was turning red.
"And here I was hoping that we could do this the easy way, but your attitude suggests otherwise." The man sighed, still getting closer and closer to his victim.

"LEAVE!"

"Now now, is that really how you speak to your closest friend?" The man was making fun of him, and Andy couldn't take it.

"GET OUT!" Andy flipped the knife in his hand, closing both fists tightly. Now was the time when all those years of karate where going to come in handy.

But still Andy remained in his place, waiting for the man to charge at him first, or waiting to see if he would indeed leave.

But what kind of attacker left the victim?

"I'm not going to fight you, Andy."

"Oh, and why not?"

"By the time I reached you, it would all be over. See, you're going to die. Right on this kitchen floor and I'm going to walk away. You'll be gasping your final breaths, begging for someone to help you, but no one will come, because no one cares."

"What?"

Like a flash of lightning, a figure appeared behind Andy. The man turned, but it was too late. The figure leapt into the air, swinging the knife over Andy's exposed throat, causing red liquid to seep out of it. Andy fell to the floor. The masked figure stood above him, his head cocked to the side, admiring his work.

"I told you, you were going to die." The other figure mumbled in a matter of factly tone. "But don't worry, Andy, you're not dying in front of strangers." The figure pulled off his mask, and Andy felt his heart leap even more out of his chest. There, standing in front of him, was himself. "You see…we're you, Andy. And, well, you're the part of us that we feel, just had to go."

Andy, in his dying breath, thought that he was delusional. Maybe being locked up inside his house for days on end caused him to lose his mind. Or maybe…just maybe…

"We don't need you anymore."

He didn't know what he was seeing or hearing. There was no answer to any of this.

The unmasked figure looked at his companion, who had also removed his mask. "We're done here." The two of them walked slowly towards the darkness, leaving Andy, a part of them, on the floor to meet his slow and agonized end.




And he was right, no one came.

No one came, because no one cared.



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