Mirror Mirror
He’s sitting in the center of my living room when I get there. He has a gun. He’s missing an eye and there’s a cruel twist to his smile. He’s me.
It’s standard practice to have oneself cloned when one is the CEO of such an important company. Last year, there was a kidnapping and a ransom note. The kidnapping itself was kept quiet. We didn’t respond to their demands. They threatened to kill the hostage.
We woke up another version of me and said go ahead.
To be a CEO of a company that’s grown as large and as fast as this one has, you need a mind that deals quickly with high pressure situations and a natural talent for leadership. You need to be charming, ruthless, and efficient. There’s a reason I have no wife or children. I am all of these things. People will follow me into corporate battle on the slimmest of reasons. I have resolved conflicts between bitter rivals and competitive holdouts with one personal meeting. People trust me and want to follow me.
I have no doubt that my clone had a difficult and interesting time talking them out of executing him and taking control over the next year.
There has been a terrorist organization attacking my organization recently very efficiently and ruthlessly. People have been following the leader into battle to certain death. There have been a number of suicide bombings. This has been unheard of for years.
Now I know who’s been behind it all and the terrible loss of life.
It’s me. Sitting in the center of my living room when I get home.
“Hello, Nathan.” My clone says to me. “How’s life?”
He looks at me with the vat grown black market eye that’s a mismatched brilliant green and a little too large. It looks like it takes effort to stretch the eyelid over it to blink. It must be tricked out because it flashes red for a second and I find that I have trouble breathing. My knees go a little weak and I kneel. My vision is starting to swim.
He walks over and kneels beside me, cradling my head in his hands.
When he nudges the tip of the knife up against my eye and looks at me, I realize what’s going to happen. He’s going to take one of my eyes to replace the one he lost and then he’s going to take my place. He’s also going to keep me alive here for as long as he can to show me what real pain is. He’s going to show me what he’s learned over the last year with those soulless men. He’s going to show me what he has become used to.
I think of what I would become capable of if pushed in that direction and I feel my bladder let go and stain the expensive rug like an untrained puppy.
tags
It’s standard practice to have oneself cloned when one is the CEO of such an important company. Last year, there was a kidnapping and a ransom note. The kidnapping itself was kept quiet. We didn’t respond to their demands. They threatened to kill the hostage.
We woke up another version of me and said go ahead.
To be a CEO of a company that’s grown as large and as fast as this one has, you need a mind that deals quickly with high pressure situations and a natural talent for leadership. You need to be charming, ruthless, and efficient. There’s a reason I have no wife or children. I am all of these things. People will follow me into corporate battle on the slimmest of reasons. I have resolved conflicts between bitter rivals and competitive holdouts with one personal meeting. People trust me and want to follow me.
I have no doubt that my clone had a difficult and interesting time talking them out of executing him and taking control over the next year.
There has been a terrorist organization attacking my organization recently very efficiently and ruthlessly. People have been following the leader into battle to certain death. There have been a number of suicide bombings. This has been unheard of for years.
Now I know who’s been behind it all and the terrible loss of life.
It’s me. Sitting in the center of my living room when I get home.
“Hello, Nathan.” My clone says to me. “How’s life?”
He looks at me with the vat grown black market eye that’s a mismatched brilliant green and a little too large. It looks like it takes effort to stretch the eyelid over it to blink. It must be tricked out because it flashes red for a second and I find that I have trouble breathing. My knees go a little weak and I kneel. My vision is starting to swim.
He walks over and kneels beside me, cradling my head in his hands.
When he nudges the tip of the knife up against my eye and looks at me, I realize what’s going to happen. He’s going to take one of my eyes to replace the one he lost and then he’s going to take my place. He’s also going to keep me alive here for as long as he can to show me what real pain is. He’s going to show me what he’s learned over the last year with those soulless men. He’s going to show me what he has become used to.
I think of what I would become capable of if pushed in that direction and I feel my bladder let go and stain the expensive rug like an untrained puppy.
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