It’s quiet in these woods tonight, a new level of eerie, a different kind of make you go crazy quiet. The stillness in the atmosphere is unsettling, I can literally feel my insides twisting, like a candy maker twisting ropes of peppermint sugar to make candycanes. A black velvet sky studded with a diamond moon illuminates my purple freckles, blushed cheeks and Rudolph shaded nose…Jack Frost ain’t playin’ tonight. Like a spooked black cat, I begin to retinally scan these torturous grounds, my spine and nose tingling, signs that something truly wicked this way comes.
Across from me, dead center, stands an image..dressed in all black from Converse to jeans to the hoodie that is currently keeping this stranger’s identity confidential. Yet, a tiny part of it’s presence is familiar which in no way lessens the anxiety pinned in the uneasy stillness, if anything it has added 10 pounds to the situation.
Shaking internally and steady like The Rock externally, I slowly reach for the machete that’s strapped to my back and let out a long silent frozen breath that is visible a mile away. The image before me begins to raise their head, a face slowly pixelating into place.
It can’t be…I mean…Are you serious?! You’re shittin’ me, right? I’m being punk’d in my own nightmare right. This….No, no way. Absolutely not! I am not about to fight myself. No…Ok Mystikx, you’ve had your fun..haha.
Wake up…wake up Derra…c’mon!! Wake up!
There more I try to wake up to escape this insanity, the more I try to convince myself that I am not about to drop kick my own ass (so to say). The more intense the realization that I am about to go 10 rounds with myself hits like a ton of bricks. Yeah, ok sure, let me fight myself. I deserve an ass kicking after all of the horrible things that I’ve done in this place.
Que the dramatic fight scene music
Eyes locked, gut wrenching, gripping this machete so tightly that every knuckle is ghost white and my blood rushing through these veins, hyped on adrenaline. Here we go…
We both begin to walk towards one another, each of our paces matched and gaining speed. I drop my machete and last minute decide to meet her with a left hook greeting, ringing her bell. Yeah, unlike Jack Frost, I ain’t playin’. She reciprocates with a blow to my right eye. This ol’ fashioned beat down is in full swing.
Punches thrown, fair and low blow ones. Leg swings tripping up balances. Bruises, scratches and busted lips shared as well as blood shed. Bones cracking every now and agian and oxygen becoming harder and harder to come by. Even in these woods I feel too old for this shit. Sweat dripping from my brow, dirt smuged everywhere from my face to my hands and clothes…and by the looks of it, my mirror image across from me, she sems to be in the exact same condition as I. Her gashes, bruises and cracked bones are mirroring mine. I am truly beating the shit out of myself (this is too damn surreal). Not sure what meaning is embedded into this twisted dream, all I know is I’m out of breath, in need of a lot of aspirin and I want to see a “The End” nearing.
No clues needed, I know exactly where the exit to this dream is, years of sub-conciously residing in these woods has led me to knowing how this place works better than I know the back of my hand.
Wipping the blood dripping from my forehead and lip onto the sleeve of my hoodie, taking a deep breath and grabbing after the machete laying on the ground next to my feet…”I’m sorry D.” is all I can muster as I embrace the fact that the only outcome of this scenario is for me to…well… murder myself.
Again we begin to walk towards one another, speed gaining. Before my twin can place her plan of attack into play I lunge my machete into her chest, her eyes widen as she goes down. Lying on the ground, coughing up the last of what blue plasma remained in her veins. Looking at me with a betrayed look in her eyes and one ounce of life left in the last breath of carbon released from her lungs…she’s gone. Tears escape from my broken eyes, my hands covering my mouth to hush the cries slipping from my blue lips and my chest in a firey pain.
My peripheral vision catches a glimpse of Mystikx, I swear he had a grimacincg smirk painted on that mask of his, his glowing eyes extra teal with happiness.
Head down, I begin to walk away. For a moment I stop, raise my heavy head and tell Mystikx to go to Hell. Although, I’m pretty sure that this is what this place is.
“I’m normal during the day, but at night turn into a monster…I look like a villain outta those blockbusters…” -Eminem ft. Juice WRLD