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From: guest (Macan)
, 8 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….”
……
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From: guest (JanMinMin85)
, 8 months, post #2 |
Wondering what be hold in the next coming part. Excellent Macan!
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From: guest (JanMinMin85)
, 8 months, post #3 |
Looking forwards to Pt2
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From: guest (J)
, 3 months, post #4 |
loved this
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From: guest (Fanjustthe)
, 3 months, post #5 |
Nice I can't wait for the next part
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From: Nptox18
, 3 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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Do not attack the moderator.
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