The Dark Somnium - I Met My Doppelgänger, and He Stole My Life

Episode Date: April 11, 2024

This Creepypasta scary story is from the creepypasta website, written by Woundlicker, make sure to check out the original story and support the author: "I Met My Doppelganger And He Stole My Life" https://www.creepypasta.com/i-met-my-doppelganger-and-he-stole-my-life-but-this-was-only-the-beginning-of-my-nightmare/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

My alarm clock woke me up at 7 a.m. on the dot. I dragged myself out of bed, brushed my teeth, showered, and dressed, ate my breakfast, and caught the bus to work. My day in the office was equally uninteresting, consisting of hours of number-crunching, support calls, frustrating meetings with middle management, and catching up with the gossip during my lunch break. It was only after I left the office when I had a strange feeling that I couldn't explain. As soon as I walked out of the front entrance, I experienced a cold, I'd like someone had walked over my grave. I don't know how, but part of me knew that something very significant had changed.

It was like some malevolent being had reached inside me and ripped out a piece of my soul, and there was nothing I could do about it. Two incidents took place on my way home from work, which would later prove significant. The first was when I encountered a homeless man on the sidewalk on my way to the bus stop. The elderly man looked in a sorry state, wrapped up in heavy layers. to protect him from the cold. His white beard matted and disheveled as he looked up at me with bloodshot eyes. He raised a jar hopefully and asked.

Spare change, sir. I felt a twinge of sympathy, stopping and reaching into my jacket pocket and withdrawing a handful of random coins, which I clumsily tossed into the man's jar. God bless you, sir, he said, while smiling to reveal a set of yellow stained teeth. No problem. I muttered awkwardly before moving on. I told myself that my small act of charity had helped, but deep down, I realized it was insignificant. The second incident was more unpleasant, occurring as I walked into the cold inside of the vandalized bus shelter,

and stared across the road at the taxi stop on the far side of the street. A trio of tough guys were hanging out on the sidewalk in front of the cab office. Three young men with multiple tattoos and mean eyes, laughing, smoking, and spitting as they made their presence known. I saw these jerks every day on my way home. I never learnt their names, and so had christened the trio as Mo, Larry, and Shemp after the Three Stooges, although I would never have dared mocking them to their faces. I knew what they ran out of that taxi office, drug-dealing, prostitution, and probably many

more legal activities. The Stooges were street-level gangsters, small-time hoods who acted like they owned the whole neighborhood. I hated these thugs, but would usually just ignore them, trying to avoid their unwanted attention. But on this occasion, my emotions got the better of me, and I glared toward the three with a look of disapproval. Unfortunately, Mo saw me looking and reacted aggressively, shouting across the street towards me. Hey, asshole! You got a problem or something? I realized then how foolish I'd been to draw attention to myself. I'm a passive person by nature, and I don't deal with.

Well, with confrontation. I decided to ignore Mo, and so lowered my head, but he didn't let up. I'm talking to you, dickhead! He swore while stepping forward. I glanced up to see the other two stooges were also glaring menacingly in my direction, and suddenly I knew I was in trouble. Violence might well have ensued, but thankfully my bus arrived at that very moment, pulling up to the shelter and conveniently separating me from my assailants.

I quickly jumped on board, paying the fare in cash before taking a seat. I sheepishly glanced out the window and saw the three thugs laughing at me in open mockery, as Mo shouted out a final insult. That's right. Run away, you fucking loser! I lowered my head once again, feeling weak and humiliated, following the unpleasant encounter. By the time I reached my stop, all I wanted to do was get inside my apartment, put the heating on, crack open a cold beer, and catch up on my latest box set series.

But, as you've probably already guessed, this was the point when my day took a bizarre turn. My first indication that something was wrong came when I tried to open the front door of my building using my key fob. I attempted to buzz myself in five or six times without success, frowning as I stared down at my fob and confusion. Thankfully, one of my neighbors arrived within a few minutes, using their own to let me in. I thanked my neighbor and wrote off the problem, thinking that the batteries must need to be replaced.

But then I reached my own front door, and things got really weird. Once again, my fob didn't work, so I pulled out my key, attempting to insert it into the lock, only to discover that it didn't fit. I was dumbstruck, staring at the door number to confirm that this was indeed my apartment. My tired brain attempted to make sense of it. At first, I wondered whether my landlord had evicted me and changed the locks, but I was up to date with my rent and had never had any problems with him before. So this explanation didn't make much sense.

I was still considering my predicament when I heard movement from inside my apartment as someone started to open the door. The intruder kept the door secured on the latch, but opened it wide enough for me to see inside. And when I cast eyes upon my intruder's face, my heart froze because I was face to face with me. The man on the far side of the door was my double, with my eyes, my hair, and my face. everything about him was identical to me. It was like looking into a mirror.

Instinctively, I recoiled in shocked horror, retreating from the door, but finding myself unable to divert my gaze. I was speechless, and so it was left to my doppelganger to break the silence. Uh, hello? Can I help you? He asked politely, speaking in a voice which was chillingly similar to my own. I noticed how calmly he spoke and was astonished that he didn't seem at all phased by this surreal encounter.

Somehow, I managed to stutter my reply through my trembling lips. Who the hell are you? My double smiled faintly before responding. My name is Paul Young, and this is my apartment. My jaw dropped in sheer disbelief. I'm Paul Young, I exclaimed. And this is my apartment. I'm afraid you're mistaken.

My double answered calmly. Now, I think you should leave. At this point, I lost my temper, shaking my head vigorously before I spat out my next word. words. This is bullshit. I don't know who you are or what game you're playing, but I'm calling the cops if you don't open the door." My doppelganger's response surprised and angered me in equal measure, as suddenly he burst into

laughter. Oh, sure, pal. Go ahead and call the cops if you want. Knock yourself out, buddy. And with that, he shut the apartment door, leaving me standing alone in the cold corridor. I was seething with anger by this point, struggling to focus as I pulled out my phone and dialed 911 with a shaking hand. The cops arrived about 20 minutes later. I met the two patrolmen at the front of the building

and frantically told them my story. I saw the way both officers looked at me and noticed the knowing glances they gave one another as I spoke. I think they thought I was crazy. It's true that my account made no logical sense, but I needed them to believe me. Eventually, I persuaded the cops to go upstairs to my apartment and confront the imposter. I was made to stand out in the corridor with the junior officer, while his partner spoke with the intruder. who'd taken over my home. My anger only grew as I watched my double engaging amicably with the policeman at the door before inviting him inside.

The cop emerged a few minutes later and came over to talk to me. The man living at this addresses Mr. Paul Young. He's provided the necessary documents to prove his identity. He explained firmly. What? I exclaimed in utter dismay. You've got to be kidding me. I'm Paul Young.

This asshole has stolen my identity. Can you provide evidence to back up your claim? The cop asked cynically, "'Of course!' I replied whilst reaching for my wallet. But once I did so, I got the shock of my life. I withdrew what should have been my driver's license, only to find it was a blank piece of plastic, with my name, details, and photograph all erased.

I started to panic as I pulled my wallet apart, withdrawing bank cards, my work pass, and even my gym membership, but everything was wiped out, my entire identity erased as if by magic. I looked up at the officers in astonishment, not knowing how to explain. I don't understand. I stuttered nervously. This doesn't make any sense.

The senior officer suddenly adopted a more sympathetic tone as he placed a firm hand on my shoulder and spoke. Look, buddy, you and that guy in there look exactly the same. I'm guessing you're twin brothers or something. Maybe this is a family dispute. I don't know. Either way, this isn't a police matter. The man inside that apartment is Paul Young, and he has the documentation to prove it. I don't know who you are, but you don't live at this address.

So, here's what's going to happen. We're going to escort you from this building, and that's going to be the end of it. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. You can't be serious. This is my home. He is the criminal, and you're asking me to leave? What the hell? I need you to calm down, sir.

I've been patient up to now, but we've reached the end of the line. You have two choices, buddy. Either you leave voluntarily or we arrest you for trespassing on private property. Now, what's it going to be? I shook my head, trying to find the words to explain all of this, to make the cop believe me. But there was nothing I could say or do, and so I accepted my fate, allowing the officers to escort me out of the building and lead me onto the street. The cops left the scene in their patrol car, but I remained on the sidewalk outside of my apartment building. Where the hell was I going to go?

I came up with a new plan, taking out my phone, thinking I could call someone who could help. My parents lived in a different state, but surely they'd be able to confirm I was their son. In the meantime, I had friends in the city who I thought would let me stay with them until this was all sorted out. But when I tried to unlock my device, I couldn't. Facial recognition no longer worked, and it wouldn't accept my PIN number. I'd reached the end of my tether, as I looked up into the night sky and screamed my lungs out. I thought things couldn't get any worse, but in that moment, the heavens opened up, and I was soon drenched with cold rain. Hey, loser, up here!

I recognized the voice calling out to me, my voice. Looking upwards, I saw my double shouting down at me from my bedroom window. I hated this guy so much, but was powerless against him. Why are you doing this to me? I'll tell you what, Paul, why don't you come up here and I'll explain everything? How does that sound? I didn't trust the bastard, and knew it. he was likely dangerous, but the way I saw it, I had no better options. And besides, I had a final

trump card, which I hoped would turn the tables on the imposter. Five minutes later, I was back at my front door, except this time my doppelganger let me inside. He was a cool customer, I'll give him that. The other Paul Young obviously didn't see me as a threat, although I planned to prove him wrong. A nice place he got here, he said sarcastically while surveying my small one-bedroom apartment. You haven't given me much to work with, Paul, but I'll make deal. I ignored the insult about my home and financial status, instead confronting him. So you admit that I'm Paul and this is my home. So you lied to the cops.

He shrugged his shoulders dismissively before answering. In a manner of speaking, but the truth is rather more complicated. I looked my double in the eye, examining him carefully for the first time. True, he looked almost identical to me, but there were some slightly. subtle differences. He was clean-shaven, while I sported a day's worth of stubble. His hair was different, too, short and slicked back with gel, whilst mine was long and untidy. And even though his eyes were the same color as mine, they seemed to have more spark to them. His mannerisms weren't the same as mine either. Somehow, he seemed more confident, more

arrogant, perhaps, swaggering around my apartment while looking down his nose at me. I'd had enough of this as my pent-up rage built up and I formulated a plan. I need to get something from my bedroom, I said while carefully controlling my voice. Is that cool? My doubles grin widened before he answered. Oh, sure thing, Paul. You're not looking for this by any chance. A second later, he pulled a gun from his waistband and pointed it directly at my chest.

I backed off fearfully, raising my hands in surrender. How did you know? I sputtered. My double laughed once again. Come on, Paul. The safe in the back of your closet. The coat is our birthday. Seriously?

Now, stop screwing around and take a seat so we can talk. He motioned the gun towards the couch, and I obeyed his order, taking a seat as I looked down the barrel of my stolen revolver. I'm not a big guy, but I live in a bad neighborhood, so I bought a 38 revolver for self-protection. But the weapon had remained untouched in my safe, as I'd never had cause to use it. But now, the gun was a gun. gun was in the hands of my doppelganger, who was holding me hostage inside of my own apartment. Relax, buddy, he said with a cruel smirk, I don't intend to kill you. I'm just taking precautions

for my own safety. He lowered the gun, making me feel just a little more at ease. I don't understand. Who are you? The other Paul rolled his eyes in frustration. Don't you get it? I'm you. An alternate version of Paul Young from another dimension. Is it really that hard to understand? Real Twilight Zone shit, my friend. I shook my head vigorously, refusing to believe what I was hearing. No, no, that's not possible. This can't be happening. I muttered. The other me shrugged his shoulders once again before answering. Believe me or don't. It makes no difference to me, buddy. I took a deep breath, meeting my doubles gaze as I tried to make sense of this madness. Okay, let's say I believe you. Then why are you here? And what do you want from me? I don't want

Anything from you, Paul, I'm merely here to deliver a message, to keep the chain going, so to speak. Your time in this dimension is over. If you want to survive, you'll want to follow my instructions. I was very much freaked out and had so many questions, and so I asked the most obvious one without thinking. What do you mean my time is over? My doppelganger sighed aloud, and it seemed like he was losing patience with me. I, listen, I was in the same boat as you not so long ago. There I was, minding my own business and living my life.

Then one day, I came home to find somebody else living in my house. And guess what? He looked just like me. I raised an eyebrow and surprise before the other me responded. Yeah, that's right, Paul. I've been in the exact same position as you. And I had to follow the rules to survive and make it here. Now it's your turn, buddy.

But this is my home. This is where I belong. Not anymore. Your keys don't work. and your IDs have been wiped, and you can't access your phone, isn't that right? I nodded my head meekly to confirm. Well, that's just the beginning, and things will move quickly from here on in. All evidence of your existence is being erased from this universe.

There can't be two Paul Young's in the same dimension for long, you see. He said briefly, the tone of his voice becoming more serious as he spoke his next words. You have until midnight, buddy, then it's game over. An icy Cho ran through my entire body. as I tried to comprehend this terrifying threat to my very existence. What happens at midnight? I muttered fearfully. Do I just disappear?

I saw a fear enter the other me's eyes before he answered. You'll cease to exist in this universe. After that, you'll go to another universe. I don't know all the details, but I did get a glimpse of what awaits the versions of us who fail in their mission, and believe me, buddy, it's not good. My brain was running at a hundred miles per hour at this point. I struggled to breathe and felt like the walls were closing in on me.

I still couldn't believe any of this was real. But there must be a way out, I pleaded. You survived, so I can too, right? Sure, he confirmed with a nod. I'm going to help you with the ritual, just like the last guy helped me out. But you need to do your part, Paul, and it's not going to be easy. Who's doing this to us? I demanded.

And what the hell do they want with us? I don't know for certain. My double answered, and neither did the guy before me. I guess that knowledge got lost somewhere down the line. My guess is one of the versions of us made a deal with some unsavory, interdimensional, demonic beings, and now we're all paying the price. As for why they're doing this, I reckon they just like messing with us little people. It's just a game to them, you see.

They make the rules, and we have to follow them. That's just the way it is. I took a deep breath before I asked my next question. So what do I have to do? My double's eyes lowered before he answered in a grim tone of voice. It's a blood, ritual, Paul, and there's only one way to win. You've got to take three lives by midnight. Three souls.

That's their price. I gasped in disbelief. You want me to murder three innocent people? I exclaimed and disgust. The other me looked irritated, clenching his teeth before replying, I don't want you to do anything. I'm merely communicating. the rules of the game, it's up to you what you decide to do with this information. As for innocent,

well, that's up to you. The rules don't specify who you kill. Can't you think of three assholes who deserve to die? I could, of course, thinking back to the incident earlier in the day, but I didn't believe I was capable of doing that. I'm not a killer. I muttered whilst lowering my head. Neither was I, not until I did the deed. You'd be surprised what were. You'd be surprised what capable of when our backs are against the wall. Still, I can't tell you what to do, Paul. It's your decision, but you need to make it quickly, my friend. The clock is ticking. He carefully set the revolver down on the coffee table in front of me, and I just stared at the weapon for a long time, as it slowly dawned on me that my old life was gone forever. Thirty minutes later, and I was

sitting on the bus, a baseball cap and scarf covering my face as I held the revolver in my jacket pocket, shaking almost uncontrollably as I considered the previously unthinkable action I needed to carry out. My double had explained it all before I left. I would go out onto the streets and commit a triple murder while he remained at my apartment and prepared for the ritual. What could possibly go wrong? A million possibilities were racing through my head. I didn't fully trust my doppelganger, but also didn't see that I had any other option. And somehow I knew he wasn't lying about my situation.

Deep down in the guts of my soul, I could feel it slipping away from me. I felt that I didn't belong in this universe, not anymore. I'd become a non-person, an imposter who'd soon be ripped from this world so the equilibrium could be restored. But even in my state of sheer desperation, I still questioned whether I could take a human life, never mind three lives. Was I capable of committing such a heinous act? I would find out soon enough.

The bus halted abruptly, the driver telling me that it was my stop. I sat there for a moment, unable to move or respond. It was only after the driver called for me a second time that I eventually managed to stand up on my shaky legs, slowly making my way down the aisle and not looking at the driver as I stepped off onto the sidewalk. As the bus pulled away, I turned to face the taxi stop, taking a deep breath as I approached my targets. Mo, Larry, and Shemp were all sitting at the front of the office, passing around a split.

as they cracked crude jokes and laughed. They didn't notice me until I was right on top of them, standing on the curb directly in front of the small office. Mo was the first to see me, looking surprised and irritated by my sudden appearance. I don't know why, but in that moment I pulled my scarf down to reveal my face. I guess I wanted him to know it was me. Mo's look of puzzlement was soon replaced by one of recognition, and then by open mockery. Well, well, look who's back, boys. A chorus of cruel laughter followed as the three stooges all turned in my direction.

Mo screwed up his face before continuing. So, what do you want, asshole? Blow? A girl for the night? You better have money. I didn't say anything. Didn't utter a word, but I met his gaze. The hatred building in my heart as I tried to work myself up for the awful task to come.

Mo quickly lost his patience, his tone becoming increasingly hostile. Hey, asshole, if you're not buying it. you need to get the fuck off my block. I'm not playing here. Again, I didn't respond or move from the spot. My hand was in my pocket, gripping a tight hold of my gun, but I didn't withdraw it yet. I think this guy's got a problem with his ears, said Larry. Yeah?

Let's see if I can help him out. With that, he reached behind the counter and withdrew a baseball bat. I responded in kind, pulling the revolver from my jacket and aiming it at his head. Moe was shocked, recoiling as he looked down the barrel. of my gun. But my hand was shaking, and I couldn't pull the trigger. Mo saw my hesitation, his fear turning to fury as he lifted the bat and snarled. You don't have the balls! I don't know what happened next, but something snapped inside of me. I steadied my hand and squeezed the trigger. The gun fired and Mo's head exploded into bloody

viscera, and I watched as his limp body fell heavily to the floor. Seconds later, and Larry jumped from his chair. His eyes full of shock and adrenaline. I reacted on instinct, firing twice and hitting Larry in the chest. He fell backwards onto his chair, his jaw dropping as he slumped over. Shemp was quicker to react, however, pulling a shotgun before I could re-ame. I saw him cocking the gun and panicked, dashing out of the doorway, as Shemp fired and the glass shattered behind me. I kept on running, ducking behind a parked car as Shemp fired again, shattering the windshield. The adrenaline was rushing through my veins as I fled from the scene, hearing Shemp scream after me with pure fury in his voice. I sprinted four or five

blocks, only stopping when I ran out of breath. The gun was still in my hand, and my whole body was trembling. I couldn't believe I'd just killed two men, but the worst thing was that I'd failed my mission. My double had been very clear with his instructions. I needed to take three lives or I was done. Two killings weren't enough. I didn't know what to do, but suddenly, an opportunity presented himself. Hello, sir, are you okay? Could you spare some change? I turned around to see the homeless man I had encountered earlier that day,

his weathered face and matted beard visible under the streetlights. He stood there on the sidewalk, directly in front of me, holding out his hand expectantly as he revealed a smile of cracked, yellow teeth. Suddenly, a plan formulated inside my screwed up brain, a plan so terrible that I could hardly believe I was contemplating it. killing criminals was one thing, but a harmless homeless person. My soul would be stained forever by the spilling of innocent blood, but it was fear which drove me in that moment,

the fear of what awaited me if I failed my mission. And so I raised my gun, aiming at the man's head and muttering, I'm so sorry. And then I fired, ending his life with a single squeeze of the trigger. I made my way back to my apartment on foot, trying to come to terms with the atrocity I had just committed. I heard the blaring of police sirens on the street as the cops responded to my killing spree. I also kept a close eye on my watch, realizing that I was quickly running out of time.

Finally, I stormed back into my home, panting and sweating from the exertion. It was only ten minutes until midnight, and my double was almost as frantic as I was. Where the hell have you been? He exclaimed. I'm sorry, I replied between breaths. I ran into problems. Never mind that. Did you kill three?

Yes, I confirmed solemnly. Good. Now let's get to work. There's not a moment to spare. We ran into the living room where I noted how my double had rearranged the furniture, drawing what looked like a pentagram on the wood floor using a sharpie pen and carefully surrounding the circle with tea-light candles from the kitchen drawer. It looked so amateurish that I might have laughed, but the other me barked out his orders without hesitating. Stand in the center of the circle and don't move outside of it for any reason.

I did as I was told, but not before my double placed a folded piece of paper in my top pocket. Your copy of the incantation. You'll need to read it on the other side. I was confused for a moment, but then quickly understood. He wanted me to continue the chain, to help the next version of me complete the ritual. I hadn't thought that far ahead, as my sole focus had been on survival, and I wasn't out of the woods yet. I watched with bemusement as the other me carefully lit each one of the candles around me and started to read from his own copy of a Latin incantation, painstakingly reciting the words

as I stood inside the circle and watched. The whole ritual seemed farcical, and I wondered whether the other me was full of shit. But suddenly, I felt a surge of energy as a wall of fire rose from the candles, surrounding me on all sides. I feared the ring of flames would consume me, but it soon stabilized, forming a barrier of light that separated me from the rest of the universe. My double continued to read the words carefully in order to complete the ritual, but he was soon interrupted. I heard the blaring of sirens from the street below and then the thumping of boots from the corridors

directly outside my apartment. My double stopped reading. His eyes widening an alarm as he screamed at me with intense fury. You led the cops here? You dumb son of a bitch! In an instant, he picked up the revolver I'd left sitting on the coffee table, aiming it directly at my chest before opening fire. He fired two shots at point.

blank range. I stared down at my body, but saw no wounds, and I felt no pain. I guess that the circle surrounding me had somehow blocked the bullets. My double pulled the trigger a third time, only for the gun to emit an empty click. No more bullets. A moment later, and the door was kicked in, and a black-clad SWAT team member stormed into the living room. The other me swung around just as the first officer burst into the room. My double still had the revolver in his hand as he screamed. No, wait! But the SWAT officer didn't take any chances, firing a single round from his rifle, which exploded through the other Mee's chest.

Throwing his body backwards, my double was slumped against the far wall, and he looked up at me in his final moment. Shock and pain in his eyes as he tried to speak, but his life was extinguished before he could utter a word. Soon, a further two SWAT members charged into the room, and they all aimed their rifles directly at me. Freeze, asshole! Get down on your knees and place your hands over your hands. I did as I was instructed, submitting to the cop's orders. The commander moved forward in an apparent attempt to arrest me, but when he hit the wall surrounding me, his body was thrown backwards, and he collapsed into the doorway like a lifeless ragdoll. They opened fire, pumping many rounds from their rifles, but once again, the bullets were blocked by the circle, and I was protected.

I was safe for now, but had no idea how long this supernatural protection would last. Clearly, the other me hadn't finished the ritual before he died. I didn't know what to do and nearly succumbed to a blind panic, but then I remembered the sheet of paper which my double had passed to me. Ignoring the shouting and reloading of the SWAT team, I reached into my pocket and withdrew the note. My hands shaking and mind racing as I scanned down the page and tried to work out where my recently deceased double had left off.

I had a eureka moment once I realized there was only two words left to speak, which I read aloud through trembling lips. Nidium, no of them. Everything changed in a second, as the circle burnt with a new intensity, and suddenly the SWAT team, my apartment, had all melted away. When the flames receded, I was consumed by darkness, and then I was falling. My helpless body plummeting through a black void. I screamed in pure terror as I descended, seeing a fire far below me, but growing ever closer.

I screamed louder as I fell through the flames. My skin singed and eyes burning as I was temporarily blinded. I landed heavily, finding myself upon a chair of cold, twisted metal. Before I could move, restraints snapped into place, securing my wrists and my ankles. I cried out, struggling in vain against my bonds as my eyes adjusted to my new environment. I didn't know if I was in hell, but it was pretty close to it. I was restrained upon a hard chair made of steel and located within a darkened room, only dimly lit by torches secured to the rocky walls, the place stank of rotting flesh

and creeping death, but it got worse. The sounds of screaming reverberated throughout the darkened chamber, and when I scanned the interior, I bore witness to multiple torture victims, men hanging from the walls, half naked and in chains, their emaciated bodies beaten black and blue, and their skin and flesh sliced up like cuts of beef. These men were clinging to life, but their bloodshot eyes were filled with terror and madness due to the many tortures inflicted upon them. And when I looked into their pain-stricken faces, I discovered the terrible truth. Every one of those tortured souls was me, or more accurately, another version of me.

Those who had failed to complete the ritual and were sent to this hellish place so they could be tortured for all eternity. Their screams and pleas for mercy salted my ears, and I felt like my head was going to be. to explode. I didn't understand. Was this to be my fate? Hadn't I followed the instructions correctly? Or was this always going to happen? Perhaps I'd been doomed from the very start. I closed my eyes, desperately struggling against my restraints, but finding no means of escape. When I reopened them, I shrieked in terror when I saw the two figures who'd suddenly materialized in front of me. The two demonic entities had taken on human forms. Both wore red robes and hoods which covered their heads.

But what gave them away was their eyes, dark and soulless like those of a shark. They surveyed me with predatory zeal, not engaging me in conversation, but speaking about me to themselves. Paul Young, 217. He didn't look like much starting out, but I believe he's exceeded all expectations.

Hmm. He certainly made a bloody mess of things. Bopched the job at the taxi rank. Got his predecessor killed. And so what? These things are rarely needn't tidy, and in the end he delivered. Personally, I was impressed by him dispatching the homeless man. No moral qualms and only a second's hesitation.

This one's a real ruthless son of a bitch. Yes, he has shown himself worthy and delivered his tribute. We must fulfil our part of the deal, and send him on his way. He clicked his fingers, and a second later, I was engulfed by a blinding light. The screaming faded, and I was taken from that hellscape. My body and soul thrown into the void between the dimensions. I woke up in a strange place, rising from a king-sized bed in a large and well-furnished bedroom.

I sat up slowly, my head still spinning as I tried to come to terms with the madness I'd been through. I walked through the bedroom and the rest of the house, closely examining the fixtures and fittings, I found myself inside of a substantial, suburban family home, much larger and grander than the small, one-bedroom city apartment I had previously lived in. I saw family photographs, noting a man who looked just like me, smiling, and posing beside a beautiful wife and two young children, a boy and a girl. So, the version of me in this universe is a well-to-do family man. It's going to be difficult for me to adjust to this new life, to love another man's

wife and kids, but I'll find a way to make it work. I've come too far and done too much to give up now. As I write this account, I can see a car pulling into the driveway outside. A man has gotten out of the vehicle, and he looks just like me. He's struggling with his keys, trying to make them fit into the lock. I can see the confusion and frustration in his eyes, and it's all too familiar. Next, he'll try his phone, but we'll have no luck either. I'm preparing myself for the difficult encounter to follow. If this version of Brian Young is anything like me, then he won't believe a word of my story. Not at first anyway, but I have this job to do, this message to convey. I'll need to be smarter than my predecessor and protect myself from blowback, but when it comes

down to it, I'll be there to read the words and complete the ritual. The chain will continue, and the demons will be satisfied, and when my final task is done, I'll do my best to settle down into my new life. There's blood on my hands, but my new family will never know who I really am or what I did to get here. I will carry this terrible secret with me to my grave and pray that I never return to that torture chamber in the pits of hell. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to answer the door.