Glancing around the crowded bar, Lucille ambled towards the spiral staircase that led to the lounge up above. Women in cocktail dresses and men in suits eyed the mysterious woman, as she began her ascent. Once upstairs, the woman casually surveyed the small lounge area. Burgundy and black suede sofas encircled the area, filled with various people. The woman’s wondering eyes landed on a man sitting at the far end of the lounge. An un-trained eye would not have noticed the four bodyguards lounging on various stools and couches that surround the man’s couch. Smoke encircled the lone man’s head, as he puffed on a thick cigar. Closing her eyes briefly, Lucille let out a long repressed breath and headed toward his table. Well Lucille, it’s your night. Do not mess it up.

Instinctively, she stood up straighter and smoothed her tight silk dress over her wide hips. Approaching the table at an angle, gave her more time to think and less time for the man to prepare. Casually, she slipped onto the couch across from him. The guards stood up at her unexpected arrival, but sat back down once they recognized the woman. If they only knew who she really was.

The man looked up with a bemused expression. Glistening drops of sweat spotted his square, chiseled jaw. Tousled pieces of golden hair wisp across his high tense forehead. Wrinkles from stress creased the young man’s square pale face. A smile touched his ice blue eyes that were encompassed by short tawny lashes.
Smirking he said to Lucille, “Fancy seeing you here Angela.”
She cringed slightly at her sister’s name, “Hello to you to Deacon. I know right? What a pleasant surprise.” She said barely above a whisper.
“Are you stalking me Miss Dichotomy? Or is this just fate?” He said laughing as he extended one long, sinewy arm toward the glass table, to place his cigar in the ashtray.
She flashed a brilliant, seductive smile, “Who knows?”

“Ha, ha. Well, all I know Angela, is that you look stunning as always. But I could have sworn I saw you earlier in a conservative purple dress. This horrible lighting must be playing tricks on my eyes.”
Lucille froze, but immediately relaxed. “Me? Conservative? Well you know what they say, ‘Never judge a book by its cover’.” Averting her eyes Deacon, she signaled to a waiter for a drink. Why is it getting so difficult for me to lie to this man? He is nothing to me, but pretending to be my sister is extremely annoying.
“Are you forgetting already that you wore that somewhat nun-looking dress to the restaurant last week?” His tense forehead creased in confusion.
Lucille let out a long breath. “Deacon, there is something I really should tell you…” Her voice trailed off when Mister Godfrey appeared out of nowhere behind the suede couch Deacon Myers was seated on.
If she were to tell Deacon about her real identity and her twin’s identity, she would be breaking one of the CEI and Mister Godfrey’s only rules. She would also be committing suicide and condemning her only cause. Lucille would never get the chance to offer Deacon her choice. Angela would win.
Mister Godfrey disappeared as quickly as he appeared. “Angela? Are you okay?” Concern spread across the young innocent man’s face.
“Uhh, yes sorry. I was going to say, I suffer from short term memory loss sometimes.” She offered a fake smile for her obvious excuse. That’s it Lucille, keep piling on the lies.
“But you are extremely intelligent! You have already outwitted me numerous time. I must say you and your bi-polar antics never cease to amaze me.”
Lucille offered him a shrug and diverted her attention to the waiter who brought her a tall crystal glass of deep red wine. Reaching out a slender arm, she clasped the glass and brought it to her quivering red lips.
The man continued to stare at the women confused. Why are women so mysterious? I cannot tell if she is actually forgetful or just lying. He took the opportunity to reach for his cigar. Calloused fingers grazed the edge of the cigar. He snatched up the object, flicked the crumbling ash into the glass ashtray and raised the object up to his wide mouth. His full bottom lip pulled back as he wrapped his lips around the object and inhaled a long, deep breath. Gradually he released his grip on the cigar. Dark smoke escaped his lips, as he breathes a heavy sigh.

“Anyways Angela, tomorrow is my 24th birthday. In case you forgot that to.” He winked.

Raising her amber eyes to rest on Deacon’s intense blue stare, she paused before she responded with a laugh, “How could I forget? You have only mentioned it twenty times.” Besides, tomorrow is more important than he could know. Lucille rather dreaded the thought.

“Just checking! Anyways, I hope to see you tomorrow evening. My friends and I will be celebrating at the Purgatory Club in downtown Sin City.”

Rolling her eyes and murmuring to herself, “How appropriate…”

Deacon continued to talk, not hearing her, “We should be arriving around 10 p.m. tomorrow, do you think you can make it?”

Lucille pulled back her red lips, exposing a bright yet devious smile, “I don’t think I could miss it, even if I wanted to.”

His brow furrowed in confusion, “I believe that is a yes, either way I will not give you a chance to change your mind! You are going whether you like it or not.” Chuckling he said, “However, I must excuse myself for a few moments, I need to use the men’s room.” While rising, his muscles tensed and bunched underneath his starchy, coal black apparel. His massive, yet lean build towered over most of the other men in the bar. He tipped his grey fedora in her direction with a smile, as he walked away.
Lucille shook her head, a grin tugging at her mouth. “Whatever you say Mr. Myers.” She muttered to his receding form. As he crossed toward the bathroom, his shiny black leather shoes thud against the marble floor. Sometimes I wish Godfrey had assigned this to someone else. There are plenty more qualified CEI agents.

Deacon pushed open the smooth steel door and entered the bathroom. Walking towards the sink, he pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his short blonde hair. His lean muscular arm reached out to turn on the metallic faucet. Splashing the cool water on his face, he exhaled deeply. This Angela girl is amazing yet so unpredictable. I guess it is typical female behavior. Just sometimes…she acts like two completely different people. Shaking his head in exasperation, Deacon looked up at his reflection. His reflection seemed to blur and shake. He already had drank a couple of beers and they seemed to be having an effect on him. Well more than the normal effect. I better call it an early night, I hope Angela will understand. Shutting off the water, Deacon turned and exited the bathroom.

Entering into the smoky bar, Deacon noticed an older man across the bar, staring directly at him. Unbeknownst to him, it was Mister Santorini. The man wore all black and a simple blood red tie. Short black hair adorned his large head. A thick beard accentuated his wide jaw and contrasted against his brown skin. Deep dark set eyes stared unblinking at Deacon.

Averting his gaze, Deacon glanced over his shoulder to see what the man was looking at. Only the bathroom door lay behind him. He glanced back at the stool where he had seen the man, but it was empty. Deacon blinked a couple of times in confusion. Creasing his brow and shaking his head, he muttered to himself. “I really should go easy on the drinks…” Slowly making his way through the crowd, he noticed his bodyguards had moved from their original positions to surround the bathroom door. They were now mimicking his steps toward the couch. Angela, who was actually Lucille, was still waiting for him.

As he approached the couch, Lucille turned a brilliant white smile toward him. “Long time no see handsome.” She winked.

“I must apologize Angela, but I am not feeling so great. I believe it would be best if I headed home. I need to get my rest and hopefully sober up for my birthday tomorrow.” Deacon offered her a weak smile.

One perfectly shaped eyebrow arched in surprise, “Oh, I am sorry to hear you are not feeling well. That is probably a good idea. I will walk out with you.” Since when does a couple of beers inhibit Deacon? Angela must have put something in them. That is not technically against agency rules; however, I have never attempted an underhanded trick. I shouldn’t be surprised though, Angela is proficient in devious tactics.

“Angela, that really isn’t necessary…” Deacon’s voice trailed off as Lucille swiftly stood and placed a soft hand on his.

“Deacon, it would be my pleasure.” She whispered as a small smile played on her face.

“Well if you insist.” He muttered as he leaned over to grab his leather jacket that was lying on the burgundy suede couches.

Lucille slipped her arm through his as they headed toward the stairs. The four muscular bodyguards fell in line with the couple: two walking down the stairs first and the other two behind them. Deacon looked down at Angela; neither seemed to mind their presence. He still grinned sheepishly and said, “Sorry we never get any alone time. My father is still over-protective.”

By then they were passing the mirrored wall, next to the exit. Lucille’s eyes were focused on something behind Deacon. He glanced towards the glass wall. His reflection caught him off guard. Well, their reflection: their reflection seemed to illuminate. It was almost as if they were illuminated. Shaking his head in disbelief, he believed the cracked glass was just playing tricks on his eyes. In reality, he was not illuminating but Lucille was.

Lucille interrupted his thought process, “Don’t worry about it Deacon Myers, I completely understand.” He turned his gaze back to her.

“Thank you, that means a lot.” He said as they exited the steel double doors. Glancing over his shoulder, he could not see a source for the illumination. Maybe I am just seeing things again. Nevertheless, he could not shake that odd feeling that had settled over him.

They stopped in front of his shiny black stretch limousine. Lucille playfully punched him, “When did you become such a lightweight anyways?”

“Beats me!” Deacon laughed, “It was great seeing you tonight Angela and I cannot wait to see you again tomorrow. Good night.” He leaned over and pressed a small kiss on her soft cheek. Lucille smiled at him as he turned and stepped into the awaiting limo. A bodyguard closed the door and entered through the passenger door. Rolling down his window, Deacon waved to Lucille as the dark vehicle pulled away from the curb and headed down Golden Street.

Lucille emphatically waved back, “Farewell Deacon, I hope you will see the real me tomorrow night,” she whispered to no one in particular. Turning toward the direction of her car, she noticed a man leaning against a light post across the street. Mister Santorini. Of course. Mister Santorini is always involved in his important affairs. Lucille dipped her head out of respect only; he mimicked the gesture and disappeared.

Deacon watched Angela disappear until his limo turned onto Epiphany Lane. Settling back into his seat, his mind was muddled with all his questioning thoughts. However, sleep soon overpowered him. Deacon sank into a fitful oblivion of unconsciousness.

The next thing Deacon remembers is being woken by a blinding white light probing at his eyelids. Pulling back one eyelid, he peered around for the source of the light. His gaze soon landed on the large bay window in his room. Rolling over, he glanced at his clock. It read 1:30 p.m. Struggling to a sitting position, he noticed his clothing from the night before had been removed. When did I even get home last night, I only remember passing out in the car. The guards must have helped me in and I was just too drunk to remember. Sighing he pulled the covers back and jumped out of bed. Stumbling slightly, he headed toward the bathroom for a shower. Glancing at the calendar on the wall, he noted it was June 6, 2006; his twenty-fourth birthday. How eerie, he thought, it is 6-6-06. Good thing I do not believe in superstitions! Except for last night, something was different. Shrugging off the feelings, Deacon stepped into the shower and let the steaming hot water refresh him.

The rest of the day felt surreal; his mind was captured in a haze, leftover from the night before. Golf with his dad, lunch with his parents, dinner with his best friend, and preparing for his birthday celebration, seemed to pass in a blur. The next thing he realized it was 9:45 p.m. Deacon and his two friends, Thomas and Peter, were just arriving at The Purgatory Club. Flashing lights and fog danced across the sidewalk as the doors opened to omit the three young men and his bodyguards. Thumping bass vibrated Deacon’s body, drowning out the voices of his friends.

Lucille watched his arrival from the corner of the club. Both her and Angela looked identical tonight; they were decked out in gold clubbing dresses and black stiletto heels. Each had replaced their glasses with contacts. Tonight, anything goes. There were no rules; the twins could interchange whenever they got the chance. If Angela leaves his side at all, Lucille will fill in. The only rule is they could not compromise their true identities. To Deacon, they are the same person. Lucille’s eyes followed Angela’s as she headed for the trio.

Angela smiled to herself. She had the upper hand in this game. Getting to Deacon first gave her a huge advantage, and it helped she was the more devious of the two sisters.

She reached out a small hand to grasp Deacon’s shoulder from behind. He spun around to see Angela. She offered a small wave and he smiled back.


“Well hello there gorgeous,” he murmured as he admired her tall thin frame. Accentuating her wide hips and narrow waist, was a brassy gold dress that shimmered from the lights in the club. Jet-black hair flowed straight down her back and her usual glasses were missing.

Laughing she replied, “Hello handsome, happy birthday!” She reached up and wrapped her arms around his thick neck. Angela peered over his shoulder as she clung to him.

Unbeknownst to Deacon, besides his entourage, three other people observed their embrace. Lucile, Godfrey and Santorini lurked in the shadows.

As the night began, so did the chaos awaiting Deacon Myers. Shots were poured, glasses were drained and un-identified items were smoked. Deacon’s world began to tip and blur within an hour. By 11:30 p.m. Deacon could barely stand; he was only vaguely aware of his friends around him. Santorini, posing as a waiter, dressed in all black, approached Deacon with a small metallic tray. On the tray sat one tall crystal glass filled with a bubbling topaz liquid. Not remembering that he ordered another drink, Deacon waved him away.


“Deacon,” Angela whispered, she had managed to stay by his side most of the night, “drink it!” It is simply delicious! You must try it! It will make you feel great, I promise!” To emphasize her words she took a big gulp from a drink identical to his.

His blurry eyes scanned the room; Angela seems to really like it, whatever it is. I guess I can have at least one sip. Reaching out an unsteady hand, he clasped the glass and brought it to his lips. Taking a tentative sip, his parched throat was greeted by a wonderful numbing sensation. Moments later his eyelids lowered as he slumped back against the stool. To everyone watching, Deacon Myers had one too many drinks, but to the CEI agents, Deacon Myers had just entered their reality. His concerned friends and bodyguards hovered around his body, as Deacon awoke in a very blank place.

Peeling back his eyelids, the numbing sensation left Deacon’s throat. Instead of being surrounded by the foggy club, he was surrounded by endless white. His world consisted of white floors, white walls and an endless amount of white wherever he looked. All of the sudden, two women appeared in front of him. To be more exact, Angela and Lucille appeared in front of him. Lucille was dressed in a shimmering white gown, while Angela donned a ebony black gown. Their true colors were finally showing. His brow furrowed in confusion at this odd dream. “Angela?” He asked, “Why am I seeing double? This is an odd dream; where am I?” Holding his stomach he muttered, “I think I have drank too much.”

Angela laughed, “My dear, you are not seeing double and this far from a dream. You have just entered an alternate reality, the one me and my sister are from. This is my twin sister Lucille, you have interacted with her as much as you have interacted with me.” Smoothing her black dress, she sat down in mid-air.

“When you thought that we were two different people, you were right. We were pretending to be each other. Well I was pretending to be Angela.” Lucille chimed in.

Realization dawned on him, these twin sisters had been deceiving him. They really were two separate women. No wonder he was always so confused. “So you were lying to me Lucille?”

“No! I mean, if you put it that way, yes. But you have to realize that it was not on purpose! You knew Angela first; I could not compromise the mission. I tried my best to let you see the real me. To let you know there is more to a person that meets the eye.” Lucille cried out. “You have to understand, I did not mean to deceive you. It was on Godfrey’s orders I could not expose my sister for what she really is. You had to find out for yourself.”

Raising an eyebrow, “But Angela did not lie to me. She told me who she really was, never pretended to be someone she was not.”

Exasperated Lucille threw up her hands; she could not lose this fight! “Deacon, but she did! Don’t you see?”

“Enough with the chit chat,” Angela intervened, “Deacon, the reason you have become a target to the CEI is because you could be a very valuable agent. We have brought you here because you have to make a choice. You can join the Department of Equinox Affairs, which is my department. Or Lucille’s, department, the Department of Solstice Affairs. To return to your world you must make your choice by midnight, if not you will be stuck in this reality. A reality that is somewhere in between, where you can never go forward nor go back.” Angela proceeded to pull a black pill out of thin air and extended her caramel hand towards him. Lucille mimicked her sister, but instead pulled out a white pill.

Automatically, Deacon reached towards Angela’s hand. It was the easiest option; Angela did not lie to him. Why waste time here if I know I can trust this women with something simple like telling me her real name. Lucille extended her free hand and slapped his hand away. “OW!” He screamed.

“Deacon, you must first understand the departments!” Lucille fervently whispered, patience wearing thin.

“Yes of course,” Angela sneered as she waved away her sister. “With the Equinox Department, you can have anything and anyone you want. Anything you have ever desired will be yours! All your dreams will come true and it only comes at a small cost to you.” She smiled seductively.

Angela glanced at Lucille who was shriveling in defeat. There is no way Deacon will choose her pathetic sister: her perfect sister who “deceived” him. This was almost too easy; this man is falling easy prey to her department.

Lucille hung her shoulders as Angela delivered her deceptive spiel. Who wouldn’t choose pleasure over possible pain? Who wouldn’t want to pay a little for ‘better things” then nothing for something worse? However, Deacon does not realize the implications of both departments. If only he realized that I was not the deceptive one, but that Angela was. No, I cannot give up now! Not for Deacon’s sake. He is an innocent man and he deserves to know the truth.

Lucille straightened her shoulders and threw back her hair. Leaning close to his face, she silently begged him to see the honesty in her eyes. “With the Solstice Department, you will face many trials and hardships. You will experience pain and heartbreak as you progress in the agency. But you will also experience love and happiness. In this department there is no cost to join, you must only learn from your mistakes and always trust Godfrey has your best intentions in mind.”

Deacon sat bewildered by the two options. Angela’s offer sounded too good to be true, while Lucille’s sounded like hard work. But how could he honestly choose? There must be some catch. Lucille is obviously lying, however, I cannot shake this feeling that Angela is lying.

The sisters glanced at each other as he sat there quietly debating with himself. Angela spoke while staring directly at her sister, “Time is almost up.” And she added under her breath, “We will win.” Laughing a devious smile, she hoped the game was almost over. He would choose her; he would choose her department. Extending her arm closer to Deacon, she said, “Time is running out. You have 30 seconds to decide Deacon Myers.”

Lucille slipped her hand farther out too, “Deacon make the decision that is best not only for you, but for your family and your friends. “

“30, 29, 28…” Angela began to count down.

“Remember Deacon, actions speak louder than words.” Lucille nodded her head, she still had a chance. She could defeat her nemesis. She could defeat her sister.


“25, 24, 23…”

Deacon’s mind swam. Flashing back to his time with the sisters, he could clearly see the similarities in the two, but he could also see their differences. But the question is, who is lying and who is telling the truth?

Angela impatiently began to tap her foot, shoving the pill closer to his face, “13, 12, 11, 10…”
Lucille continued to stare directly into her sisters eyes. Angela on the other hand, started to glance his way. Beads of sweat broke dripped off of the twin’s faces.

Angela finally realized he might not choose her. He may choose Lucille, but she could not give up hope now.

Lucille continued to stand calmly next to her sister. This was up to Deacon now; she had no other ways to influence him. Ultimately, it was his decision. She had done her part.

Watching the two sisters, realization donned on him. One was offering him freedom and one was offering him a prison. He knew what he wanted.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1…” As Angela uttered the last number, Deacon Myers grasped a pill, popped it in his mouth and swallowed.

Everything went black.

Slowly, pulsating lights filled his vision. Fog filled his nose and made him cough. Musical vibrations echoed through his chest. Deacon Myers eyes blinked open. The Purgatory Club dance floor came into view. Focusing on the faces around him, Deacon noticed his friends, his bodyguards, and Angela. Perched on his right, Angela seemed to fade in with the hazy surroundings. Steely amber eyes seemed to laugh in the dim room, as an evil grin spread across her face.

Confusion clouded his expression, wondering if that had all been in his head or if it had all been real. Either way, he had made a choice. He chose the woman who he could trust with something simple, like telling him her real name. He chose pleasure over pain. Of course, I would want an easy job with everything I have ever desired. Who would not choose that? However, I think I am going crazy. There is no way any of that was real. It was just a dream or due to a hallucinogenic drug or excess alcohol consumption.

“Angela?” He whispered, “I just had the most interesting dream.”

Slowly, she threw her head back in laughter. “Oh honey, it was not a dream.”

“Really? I don’t believe you. Prove it.” He challenged.

Smiling she answered, “Remember that small price you had to pay for joining my agency?” He nodded in response. “Well, that price…is your soul.”

No one heard the exchange between Deacon and Angela. But they did notice the shock and horror that crossed his face. Glancing down at the crystal glass still in his hand, he stared at his distorted reflection. Dear God, what have I done. Across the bar, two men were shaking hands: one was in a black suit and one was in a white suit. After they shook hands, both men vanished into thin air.