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Submitted for the September 2024 prompt: The Bogeyman Cometh
One should never have to attend their own funeral. This is a peculiar case, however. Listening to people mourn the deceased while I'm standing right here is a strange sensation. Unfortunately, I can't let anyone know what really happened.
* * *
I'd spent the better part of my morning going over my copious notes on the concept of life after death. Is there such a thing as reincarnation? This concept had kept me up at night for years. My studies on this day, however, were intruded upon by a troublesome young boy. An intrusion which, to the boy's credit, sparked an extraordinary idea.
His increasingly annoying knock rapped upon the door. One, two, three... four.
I opened the door to my lab, to see the nuisance sporting a white lab coat. His thick black hair pushed back by an oversized pair of goggles.
“I've already told you I don't need an assistant, Randall.” I clenched my right fist, a habit I'd formed while dealing with carpal tunnel years prior.
“Professor, I can help you.”
“I don't have time to coddle a child or care for your safety. There is far too much to learn, and this lab is much too dangerous for a boy.”
“But aren't two heads better than one?”
“Only when both heads are my own. Wait... that's it.”
That was the start of it all. I began working on a machine capable of creating human life that afternoon. If reincarnation is simply just the recreation of oneself, then... I didn't have to wait for my own demise to experience it.
* * *
I placed my blood sample onto the petri dish and placed it under the microscope, then added the serum I'd created to duplicate cells at an advanced rate.
“Remarkable” I said into my recorder. “The duplicating cells will create a fully formed body, identical to my own, within the year, while the algorithm I've created will help inform the AI that will power its mind. Its mind being... well, mine.”
* * *
After perfecting the serum, I placed a vial of it into a slot in the machine, a coffin-like device (only in appearance), that would contain and stabilize the accelerated cells. It was the moment I'd been waiting for, all I had to do was flip the switch and—
A knock at the door caused my heart to leap from my chest (only in metaphor mind you). I opened the door and saw the once young boy, now a teenager, and quite tall, staring down at me.
“I've been studying,” he said. “I can help you now. You won't need to coddle me.”
“I don't need any help,” I snapped.
With the intrusion dealt with, I staggered over to the machine.
* * *
“Pass me the green vial,” I said.
“This one?” I (technically) replied.
“Is there another green vial?”
“There are two of the same shade of green.”
I adjusted my glasses.
“That is rather unfortunate.” I clenched my right fist.
“We could mix a small amount of each with the component on your slide to gauge reactions.” I watched as he (technically me) clenched his left fist.
“Interesting,” I said. “You perform the ritual on the opposite side.”
“Excuse me?”
“That shouldn't be the case. We should make a list of other differences between the two of us. There may be a mistake in the algorithm.”
* * *
I could tell bringing up the ritual had perturbed my duplicate. Perhaps he relished the thought of being my exact clone. I know I would. Being the clone of such a brilliant scientist would be a true honor.
“I can tell what you're thinking,” he said. I watched as he stabbed into his dinner pea by pea. “You're thinking there is something wrong with me. You're thinking I made you superior to myself.”
“Interesting,” I replied. “I made you. But, in your mind you're the original.”
“You've twisted the story,” he replied. “I recall creating you in my lab years ago.”
“We share the same memories.”
“Consider this,” he raised his left hand, “I had the surgery on my dominant hand, my left, yet you often clench your right. Why is that?”
“I… I don't have an answer for that."
We finished our meal in silence.
* * *
A knock at the door. I wasn't sure at what time. I hadn't slept in days... weeks? I hadn't so much as blinked around my duplicate since he attacked me with a broken beaker, cutting my raised hands.
I opened the door, just enough to see a man with a striking black beard staring down at me.
“Professor,” he said. “I've finished my studies at the university. I'm ready to join you in your lab.”
“Randall, you mustn’t be here,” I whispered. “It's not safe.”
“But, Sir. I can help you.”
“Leave at once. And never return.”
“Is someone in there with you?” He pushed the door forward just an inch.
“No! You must leave at once!”
I slammed the door and pressed my back against it.
“Did he see me?” asked my own voice from the shadows.
“No... I don't think so.”
* * *
I awoke to an empty room. When did I fall asleep? For how long was I out?
A creak in the floorboards sent my heart into a frenzy. Then, I saw him, looming above me. A syringe, filled with a bright crimson, caught a beam of light from the morning sun through the window.
I had to defend myself. There was truly no other way.
* * *
I watch from afar as each person places a rose atop my casket. I detest roses, but they wouldn't know. I shut myself off from anyone other than myself long ago.
The nuisance boy, now a man, stands beside his wife and child. His son is the age he was when I first turned him away.
I catch his glance. His eyebrows rise, then furrow. Has he seen through my disguise?
I clench my right fist. Why do I do that?
Copyright 2024 - SFS Publishing LLC
I Attended My Own Funeral
Dearly beloved...