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F2F Short Story - Madness and the Evil Twin Parts 1-4
From: guest (Macan) , 18 months, post #1
Madness and the Evil Twin
by Macan and Eryka

Part 1
Anthony Travis breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled into his driveway. It had been a long and grueling day in court, and he was looking forward to putting his feet up and relaxing at home. However, his composure vanished when – as he took his briefcase from the back seat – he saw a police cruiser pull up in front of his house.
Shit…what now? he thought in exasperation.
“Hey Anthony,” called the plainclothes officer, as he stepped out of the car. Anthony knew him from a couple of cases he had defended in the past – Detective Stimson – and respected him as a “straight shooter”. Now somewhat puzzled, Anthony waited in the drive for the detective – and the wizened looking man who was accompanying him – to walk up.
“Hi Anthony…sorry to bother you at home and all, but you had already left your office when I called,” said the detective. He looked sheepish, which puzzled Anthony.
“Well, what couldn’t wait till tomorrow?” Anthony smiled good-humoredly.
“Ah…this here is Dr. Vogel…he’s the new director of Elm County Psychiatric…”
Anthony’s smile disappeared.
“This is about my wife’s sister, isn’t it?” he asked in a flat tone.
“Mr. Travis…” the slight, wizened older man began, “…I went to see the police on a matter of great urgency….”
“Jesus, Stimson . . .” Anthony snarled, addressing the detective and ignoring the other man. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. Bringing this quack here to my home . . . after everything my wife has been through . . ..”
“Take it easy Anthony,” the detective replied soothingly. “The lieutenant twisted my arm to get me here. It seems the Doc had spent the morning with him convincing him of some wild story . . ..”
“Detective!” objected the other man.
“ . . . and so we had to come out here to see you and your wife,” he finished.
“My wife?” Anthony Travis exclaimed. “Stimson . . . if you drag my wife into this business again I’ll have you before a Board of Inquiry so goddamn fast. . . . “
“Anthony, there ain’t nothing we can do . . . the doc here has persuaded the lieutenant . . . so we can do this the easy way, or I’ll go to a judge and we’ll go the hard way . . ..”
After a long, simmering pause Anthony replied flatly: “What do you want?”
“We just want to talk to you and your wife for a couple of minutes about her sister, Anna. It seems that for the past months she’s been spinning some story for the folks up at the Mental . . ..”
“At the County Psychiatric Hospital, Detective!” corrected the older man sternly.
“Whatever . . . anyhow, the doc here recently became the new director of the place, and he started listening to the story. He claims to believe it . . .. “
“I did not say I believed or disbelieved, detective,” corrected the older man. “I merely noted that the patient’s narrative of events had a high level of internal consistency.”
“Fine . . . whatever . . . anyhow Anthony, we are here to check up on the story,” the detective finished.
Anthony was becoming uncomfortable with this conversation being conducted in the open. He said hurriedly:
“Okay, what’s this story?”
“Well,” the detective began, “apparently, your wife’s sister has been claiming that she isn’t who she appears to be. She claims that she is really your wife!”
For a moment Anthony could only gape in shock. Then he exploded:
“Have you lost your minds?” he said, in an angry yet low voice …. conscious of the quiet upper-middle class suburban neighborhood around them. “Anna Templeton is not only a proven liar, but she is also a diagnosed psychopath who murdered her own parents. And she comes to you with some bullshit story, and gets you to harass her own sister….”
“Mr. Travis, please . . .” began Dr. Vogel. “We know very well the trauma that your wife has endured at her sister’s hands. However, the patient at our center has told us a convincing story of how she is really your wife . . . and that while visiting the hospital last year she was knocked unconscious by Anna Templeton, who took her clothes and jewelry, and has been impersonating her ever since.”
The street and houses seemed to reel about Anthony. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“The two women are identical twin sisters, after all….” Dr. Vogel continued.
“Dear god!” exclaimed Anthony. “Are you implying I can’t even recognize my own wife?”
“Our patient appears to know a great deal about you and your life…” Dr. Vogel noted.
“Of course she does!” Anthony snarled. “She’s Mary’s sister . . . and she’s been obsessed with my wife since they were both children. She murdered their parents out of envy for how she thought they preferred Mary to her.”
“Mr. Travis, please . . .” Dr. Vogel continued. “I am well acquainted with the tragic events of the past. However, I have come here out of fear that we may be in the midst of a great miscarriage of justice . . . as you say in court, if there is any reasonable doubt”.
“Fine!” Anthony exclaimed, cutting the other man off sharply. “What is it you want?”
“Just a few minutes of your and your wife’s time…” Dr. Vogel began.
“. . . and her fingerprints for the lieutenant,” concluded the detective, indicating the kit slung over his shoulder.
Anthony sighed in exasperation. This was mad . . . completely mad. But he could see no option.
“Okay, you can come in,” he said, walking up to the front door. “But I’m giving you just fifteen minutes, and I’ll be with my wife for every second as her legal counsel.”
“But we need more”, began Dr. Vogel.
“That’ll be great, Anthony.” finished a relieved looking Detective Stimson, with a warning glance at his older companion.
“Well, you had better come in”, said Anthony, unlocking the front door to the house.

Part 2
“You can hang your coats in the closet if you like,” Anthony Travis begrudgingly informed his guests.
No sooner had he closed the door behind them than Anthony heard a familiar female voice come from the living room.
“Honey, is that you?”
An attractive young brunette in her early thirties walked into the entrance hall. Mary Travis and her husband had married shortly after high school, and although she had already had two young daughters, Mary still retained her slim youthful figure. Her mid-length auburn hair was drawn back in a ponytail, and wire-framed glasses set off a pretty, smiling face.
Anthony smiled as she walked over and he slipped his arm about her waist. As they kissed, the presence of the two other men oddly made him acutely aware of the pressure of his wife’s ample breasts against him.
Faintly blushing, he said, “Honey, this is Detective Stimson and Doctor Vogel . . . he’s the new director of the Psychiatric Hospital . . ..”
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Anthony could feel his wife stiffen in his embrace. He saw her familiar welcoming smile vanish from her face.
After several very long seconds, Mrs. Travis asked in a flat tone:
“Is this about Anna?”
“Ah, yes . . .”, Anthony cleared his throat uncomfortably. “It seems your sister has been telling the doctors at the hospital that she is . . . ah, not really herself.”
His wife’s glasses had slipped to the end of her nose, and she gazed at him questioningly over the frames in a manner that – in other circumstances – he always found very appealing.
“Not herself?” his wife replied. “Well, who does she say she is then?”
Anthony cleared his throat again, but Doctor Vogel pre-empted him.
“Mrs. Travis … my patient at County Psychiatric has been claiming for some time that she is really you.”
The silence in the entrance hall was audible.
Finally, Mrs. Travis broke the silence:
“Anna has been saying that she is. . .me?!” she replied in an astonished tone.
“Precisely, Mrs. Travis . . . that is why we have come here today . . . to ensure that a grave miscarriage of justice is not occurring.”
A few more very long seconds elapsed, then, “I don’t believe this!” Mary Travis exploded. “Have you all gone completely mad?”
She stormed out of the entrance hall and into the living room. After a moment’s hesitation, the three men followed her.
“My insane bitch of a sister feeds you this crap, and you believe her?” she said angrily at Doctor Vogel. “Anna murdered our parents, and made my life hell for years, and you’re letting her harass me by . . . by remote control.”
“Mrs. Travis, please understand”, Doctor Vogel said placatingly. “If there were any foundation to her story . . . wouldn’t you want us to investigate it?”
Mrs. Travis’s pretty blue eyes narrowed angrily behind her glasses.
Finally she breathed a heavy sigh.
“Very well . . . you might as well sit down,” she said, walking across the luxuriously furnished living room. “Tell me what she has been saying.”
They sat down around the coffee table, on which Detective Stimson began setting up his portable laptop. Anthony watched his wife anxiously as she listened to the story, but saw only her impassive expression. Finally, she turned to him.
“Anthony, do you believe this?” she asked in an arched tone.
“Honey . . . of course not,” Anthony Travis replied quickly. “It’s just more of your sister’s bitterness and envy, that’s all.”
“Hmmmph…” replied his wife in a slightly mollified tone. She reach out and took his hand. They exchanged brief smiles, and then she turned to the policeman.
“Detective Stimson . . . what exactly is it you want of me?”
“Well Mrs. Travis, when there was that whole . . . ah . . . business with your parents, we took the fingerprints of all parties associated with the case, including yours and your sister’s. When your sister was declared legally insane, her fingerprints were sealed under the state’s privacy laws. However, we still have yours on file.”
He took a deep breath, and continued, “We can easily check the truth of this story Doctor Vogel has been told . . . that you are not really Mary Travis but rather Anna Templeton . . . by comparing your prints to those of Mrs. Travis that we have on file.”
“I see,” Anthony heard his wife respond in an impassive tone. “Would I have to go down to the police station . . . the girls are due to be picked up from daycare in an hour.”
“No,” the detective smiled. “With the wonders of modern technology, we can do a test right here.” He held out a flat pad connected to the laptop. “If you would be so kind as to press your thumb, index and forefinger against the pad”.
After a moment’s hesitation, Mrs. Travis stretched out her fingers onto the pad, her diamond engagement ring and wedding band shimmering on her ring finger.
“Thank you,” the detective smiled. “The program should give us the results if the comparison test in a second.”
Anthony Travis looked at his wife with an encouraging smile. She smiled faintly in return, and squeezed his hand.

Part 3
“How much longer is this going to take, Detective?” Anthony asked.
“Sorry about this,” Detective Stimson replied sheepishly. “These old Pentium laptops are slow, but with cutbacks and all at the department . . . hold on, the program is finishing.”
A heavy silence hung in the room as the detective tapped away at the laptop keyboard. Then he looked up with a smile.
“That’s it!” he exclaimed. “Perfect match . . . you are who you appear to be, Mrs. Travis.”
Anthony breathed a sigh of relief. This whole farce was over. He glanced at his wife, who was smiling confidently.
“Well, I told you so,” she said assertively. She rolled her eyes, as if making light of the whole business, but the little squeeze she gave her husband’s hand let him know how disturbed she really was.
Doctor Vogel seemed somewhat shocked by the news.
“Well . . . I never...” he began uncertainly.
“You never what, Doctor?” Anthony replied bitterly.
“It’s just that her story had a remarkable degree of internal consistency”.
“My sister is insane, doctor . . . she’s not stupid,” Mary Travis noted with a wry smile.
“Just so . . . but in all my clinical practice, I have never had such a strong case of transference.”
“She’s just another whack-job, doc,” said the detective, closing up his laptop. “I wouldn’t worry about it anymore.”
“But why would she invent this story . . . irritating her sister seems insufficient motivation?” the doctor said in a puzzled tone, more to himself than anyone.
“She’s psycho . . . that’s good enough for me,” stated the detective bluntly. He picked up his kit, and stood up. “Anyhow, we’ve taken up enough of your time on this wild goose chase, Anthony,” he said with a smile, reaching out a hand.
Anthony shook it.
“You and your wife have been pretty decent about all this. I appreciate it. It’ll get the lieutenant off my back for a bit.”
Anthony was about to respond bitterly, but his wife interrupted him.
“Think nothing of it, detective,” she said with a broad smile. “You have a job to do, after all.”
They walked the two men to the door. Doctor Vogel seemed lost in thought.
“Maybe a new round of drug therapy . . .” he murmured to himself. “ . . . but I don’t know...”
“You don’t know what, doctor?” Mrs. Travis asked with a smile.
“I have never seen a case like this . . . such marked psychopathy in only one of a set of identical twins,” he seemed lost in thought. Then he glanced up at Mary.
“I must say, Mrs. Travis . . . the resemblance between you and your sister is striking . . . if I didn’t know better . . .” he continued.
Anthony heard his wife’s familiar soft laughter.
“Well, now you do, doctor,” she smiled, her eyes shining with amusement behind her glasses.
Noticing his wife’s cheerful expression, Anthony sighed in relief.
“If there is anything more we can do, doctor…” he offered.
Doctor Vogel hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Well, there is one thing. Mr. Travis…” he began. “If your wife were good enough to come see her sister at the hospital – her last visit was some time ago – seeing your wife might be just the shock Anna Templeton needs to break her out of this delusion.”
Anthony’s arm being around his wife’s waist, he felt her stiffen momentarily at this suggestion much as she had earlier. Then she relaxed, and replied.
“Doctor, my sister hates me,” Mrs. Travis stated bluntly. “I can’t see how my visiting her would help . . ..”
Doctor Vogel began to turn to the door.
“ . . .but, if you think it would cure her of this delusion that she is me, then I would be willing to visit Anna again,” she concluded.
A relieved smile cracked Doctor Vogel’s wizened face.
“Mrs. Travis . . . thank you. Your offer is more than kind, given what we have put you through today.”
“Yes, it is,” Anthony said acerbically.
“Well . . . Anna is my only sister,” his wife said. “And I suppose one visit would not be too awful. When should I come?”
“Would tomorrow be too early?” the doctor suggested.
“Well, maybe it would be better to get it over with.” Mary Travis said, looking up at her husband questioningly.
Anthony nodded.
“Excellent!” smiled Doctor Vogel. “We’ll see you tomorrow then, Mrs. Travis.”
Anthony shook hands with the detective again, and ushered the two men out the door.

Later that Evening
Anthony Travis walked into his bedroom. His wife sat at her dressing table brushing her hair.
“The girls were a handful tonight,” he said. “They insisted on an extra story before bedtime.”
“Uh-huh…” his wife replied distractedly, as if from a distance.
Anthony frowned. She had been like this since the Doctor left that afternoon. He had not said anything, but thought this was a good time to raise the issue.
“It’s seeing your sister tomorrow, isn’t it?” he asked.
Mrs. Travis paused in her brushing, and turned to him.
“What is . . . ?” she responded.
“You. . . the way you’ve been wandering about in another world all day,” he explained. “If you’re that upset about going tomorrow, why did you agree?”
Mrs. Travis blinked, and sighed with a rueful smile.
“Because she is my sister, I suppose. After all, I have not visited her since last year. Although she screamed at me and said hateful things at the time . . . I can’t deny our relation. If I can help her in any way, I should.”
Anthony shrugged, and got into bed.
“Well, whatever you decide honey, you know I’ll support you,” he said.
Mrs. Travis stood up and walked over, flashing her husband a dazzling smile.
“I know you will, sweetheart,” she replied.
She slipped off her housecoat, revealing that she was wearing only a baby-doll nightie. Beneath its frilly hem her long, slim legs were bare . . . and its transparent bodice curved over her firm, ample breasts.
Her husband raised his eyebrows and grinned.
“Well, this is a surprise!” he declared, as she slipped into bed beside him.
“A welcome one, I hope,” Mary Travis answered, with a mischievous smile.
“Oh, very welcome,” laughed her husband, as he took her into his arms.
She reached over and turned out the light.
An hour later two bodies were still moving in the darkness, speaking in whispers and careful not to make noise to disturb the children down the hall. Anthony could see the sweat glistening in the moonlight on his wife’s skin as she moved on top of him, grinding slowly against him. Her nightie lay strewn at the foot of the bed, as her large breasts jutted out filling his hands.
Anthony never ceased to be amazed at how firm his wife’s body remained even after two children. He ran his hands down over her glistening curves, to where a gentle curve of her tummy was the only testimony to months of childbearing. His hands stroked the juncture of her thighs, causing her to moan softly.
“Oh God…yes…there….” she moaned in a low tone, her eyes closed and her head back, as she moved faster atop him. “God…Anthony…darling…you are so good….”
She opened her eyes and smiled down at him, then bent over his face for a long kiss. Anthony decided at that moment to thrust deeper.
His wife’s eyes opened wide.
“Oh Christ…oh god…yes Tony…please…yes…”
Anthony could feel her thigh muscles tightening in a familiar way. Though almost out of breath, he kept pushing.
His wife buried her face in his neck.
“Oh god…yes, darling, baby…ohh….ahhhhh….” her voice suddenly caught in her throat, and her torso arched against his.
Anthony was lost in an explosion of pleasure.

Part 4 The Next Day
The broad corridors of Country Psychiatric were filled with bright afternoon sunlight. Anthony and his wife stood in the reception area awaiting Doctor Vogel who had just been paged.
Mary Travis sniffed the air.
“God…I hate the smell in this place,” she remarked. “It’s so antiseptic and institutional.”
“Well, it is a hospital, honey,” her husband grinned.
“Hmmph…well, at least we don’t have to stay here,” she replied.
“Mr. Travis . . . Mrs. Travis. . . .” came a voice from down the hall.
They looked up to see Doctor Vogel approaching. Smiling, he held out his hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, they both shook it.
“I’m so pleased that you’ve decided to come,” he said to Mrs. Travis. “I’m sure that seeing you will do wonders for your sister.”
Mary made a noncommittal noise, and then replied, “Well, she is my sister . . . so I suppose I am obligated. What exactly do you have in mind?”
“I thought that we could go visit your sister in her room. Perhaps seeing and talking to you will remove her from her delusionary state.”
Anthony frowned.
“Doctor, are you sure that is safe?” he asked.
“Oh perfectly,” the wizened old physician replied reassuringly. “We gave Anna a double dose of tranquilizers in her breakfast. She has been quiet as a church mouse all morning. She’ll be able to talk to your wife fairly coherently but, rest assured, she will not represent any physical threat whatsoever.”
“That’s a worry off my shoulders,” Anthony replied. “I postponed my court work this afternoon so I could come along with Mary today.”
“That was good of you, Mr. Travis,” the doctor replied with a smile, “but really there was no need. Anyhow, as you are aware, our regulations limit visitors to immediate family, so I will have to ask you to wait here in reception.”
“Of course,” Anthony replied, and turned to his wife. “Are you sure about this, honey?”
Mrs. Travis squeezed her husband’s arm reassuringly.
“It’ll be fine, dear,” she said, reaching up to peck him on the cheek.
Anthony looked down into the smiling face of the woman he loved. His wife was wearing her pearl necklace and earrings set, with the long strand hanging down between the curves of her ample breasts under her crisp white Evan Picone blouse.
“Okay honey,” he smiled in return. “Good luck.”
As his wife and Doctor Vogel walked off down a corridor, Anthony watched them go with a smile. With her clutch purse in her hand…and the rounded curves of her hips swaying gently from side to side under her tight, knee-length DKNY skirt as she walked…his wife seemed to him the incarnation of feminine beauty.
As the sound of his wife’s high heels clipping against the floor receded into the distance, Anthony settled into one of the reception area chair and looked through the magazines on the coffee table before him.

“So…how long has my sister had this delusion that she was me, doctor?” Mrs. Travis asked, as they entered the secure wing of the hospital reserved for the criminally insane.
“Since shortly after your last visit, it seems,” the doctor replied. “It’s something of a mystery, actually, as there does not seem to have been any particular incident that set it off. Of course, this was before I assumed my present position at the hospital . . . but from my reading of the records it remains a total mystery.”
They stopped before a plain white door that showed signs of steel reinforcement.
“There have been a few changes in her living conditions since your last visit, Mrs. Travis,” he explained. “As you know, your sister is forbidden any utensils or objects that may be used as a weapon, such as spoons, string or pencils. However, your sister now has access to private washroom facilities in her room. We feel that this privacy enhances self-esteem and promotes well-being.”
He swiped a card in a magnetic lock, and the door clicked open.
“As before, there is a buzzer and speaker beside the door linked to the hall orderly’s desk. When you want to leave, simply press the button and inform the orderly.”
Mrs. Travis raised her eyebrows behind her wire-rim glasses.
“You’re not staying, doctor?” she asked.
“Don’t worry Mrs. Travis,” he smiled reassuringly. “Your sister has been fully tranquilized. It is my clinical view that an unmediated conversation with you is necessary to disrupt the underlying substrate of her delusion. Of course, if at any time you feel uncomfortable and wish to leave you have only to press the buzzer.”
He held open the door and, after a moment’s hesitation, Mary walked into the room.
The room was largely bare, except for some generic landscape paintings suspended on the walls. The main furniture was a dresser and chair that rested beside a metal frame bed. A door in the far wall led presumably to the lavatory.
Mary’s gaze moved quickly to the bed, and the figure reclining on it. She caught her breath, as she always did at seeing her sister after a long absence.
It was like looking into a mirror! The same gentle curve and angles of her cheekbones, the same color mid-length hair, the same slender build . . . although her doppelganger on the bed wore a grey hospital pantsuit. Her sister did not look at them upon their entrance, but continued to gaze straight up at the ceiling. The rising and falling of the lush curve of her bosom as she breathed was the figure’s only indication of life.
“Hello Anna,. we have a visitor for you today,” the doctor began.
The figure on the bed did not move, or give any sign of recognition.
Doctor Vogel sighed, and whispered in a low voice to Mary, “She appears to be in one of her stubborn moods today,” he explained. “Don’t worry, the tranquilizers’ effect is largely restricted to limiting her mobility. She should be able to converse with you adequately.”
He turned to the figure on the bed.
“Anna, your sister Mary has come for a visit,” he said.
The figure on the bed did not move.
“Well, I’ll leave you two alone,” he said to the figure on the bed. “I’m sure you have much to talk about.”
He turned, and smiled at Mary.
“I’ll be waiting in reception with your husband, Mrs. Travis,” he said. “I’m sure even your presence here will be helpful to your sister. Good luck.”
With a smile he walked out the door, which clicked shut behind him.
Silence hung in the room like a heavy shroud as Mary gazed at the figure on the bed. Then the figure’s head turned, and Mrs. Travis found herself once again looking into the face of her mirror image. The expression on the face was impassive.
“Hello sister….”


From: guest (JanMinMin85) , 18 months, post #2
Wondering what be hold in the next coming part. Excellent Macan!

From: guest (JanMinMin85) , 17 months, post #3
Looking forwards to Pt2

From: guest (J) , 12 months, post #4
loved this

From: guest (Fanjustthe) , 12 months, post #5
Nice I can't wait for the next part

From: Nptox18 , 12 months, post #6
really good story...i predict it will go two possible paths.

can wait to see if i'm right...

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