Lunatics Library 30 - Doppelgänger Horror Stories - Lunatics Radio Hour

Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:17):
Hello everyone.
Welcome back to another episodeof the Lunatics Radio Hour
podcast.
I'm Abby Brinker, sitting hereas I always am with Alan Kuan.
Hello.
Today we have a Lunatics Libraryepisode for you rounding out our
crazy exploration ofdoppelganger with three modern
horror stories that use thistrend to illustrate all of the

(00:40):
things that we've been talkingabout in the last two episodes.

Speaker 2 (00:42):
I, I'm really excited for this one.

Speaker 1 (00:44):
I am too.
I'm really excited.
I am so grateful to the voiceactors, to the writers who all
brought this together becausethis is like my ideal lunatics
library episode.
I'm gonna come out and say itright now.

Speaker 2 (00:55):
I wanna say I'm more excited for this one that I have
been in a very long time.

Speaker 1 (00:58):
No discredit to anybody else.
It just feels like we have avery robust offering today.

Speaker 2 (01:03):
I'd say we do.

Speaker 1 (01:03):
Yeah.
Why don't we just jump right inthen?
Sure.
So, the first story, first timethat this writer is being
featured on Lunatics Radio Hour,which we love a debut.
It was written by Mads SmithLedford, and you can follow her
on Instagram at mads.
S m i l e d.
Mads is a remote post-productioncoordinator and freelance
producer out of South NewJersey.

(01:24):
Since 2019, she's been creditedin numerous documentaries,
fiction features, and shorts,most notably the Exiles, which
won the Grand Jury prize for theUS documentary at Sundance Film
Festival last year.

Speaker 2 (01:36):
Dang.
Yeah.
All right.

Speaker 1 (01:38):
In 2019, she co-wrote and directed an original play
called 1979, question Mark,which premiered at the Scoundrel
and Scam Theater in Tucson,Arizona.
She lives and breathes horrorpublishing her honors thesis on
love, crafty, and filmadaptations.
She's super excited to connectwith other horror fans and hopes
to continue crafting spookytales.

(01:59):
She's like our ideal friend,.
Everything we look for in afriend

Speaker 2 (02:04):
That's adorable.
I, that's, that's cool.
I always love connecting withnew people in the biz.

Speaker 1 (02:11):
Yeah.
And this story is so good.
I'm just so, so excited to, tokick us off this way today.

Speaker 2 (02:16):
Cool.
Uh, do you want to give usanything about what we're gonna
expect?

Speaker 1 (02:19):
No.
Go on and blind as we always do.

Speaker 2 (02:21):
Okay.
Here we go.

Speaker 3 (02:28):
Mirrored images, my man Smith Red by.

Speaker 4 (02:37):
It used to be a game between friends, an observation
murmured under their breath, asnicker or a deer, but always in
good spirits, an exchanged wordthat really wasn't supposed to
mean anything, especially milesaway.
You really need to meet her.
Janie, you'd really get along.
I glanced up from the stack ofnotes thumbnail between my

(02:59):
teeth, even miles away with ourphones propped up against books
and cheap desk lamps.
Amy and I studied together.
It was a safe, familiar rhythmwe'd created in high school.
Her tiny image was washed out inthe light of the phone screen,
her own pen scratching into aworkbook.
I swear she's your double.
That's definitely not weird.

(03:20):
I hoed turning back to mytextbook.
No, really?
You have that same sort of, Amyleaned her head in her hands,
lips drawn together.
She clicked her teeth.
That quick humor, you know thekind that you least expect and
takes you a second to get that.
Sure.
But it doesn't mean we're twins.
I argued Amy scoffed brushingher long hair from her neck.

(03:42):
She fidgeted twisting thestrands into a messy braid and
then letting it fall free.
I didn't say you were twins.
I said double.
There's a difference.
And that is she's like a copy.
Amy twisted her hair up again.
It's almost like I can have youhere with me.
You know, I felt a stone drop inmy stomach.

(04:04):
I shot up my veins.
I scolded my expression quicklyand forced my lips into a half
smile.
But the anxiety had alreadyseeped into my skin.
Amy and I had been friends sincediapers.
We grew up together and sharedeverything.
Food, clothes, dreams.
I'd been through her worstbreakups and proudest
achievements, and she was myrock through mine.

(04:26):
I recognized this sick feeling.
It was the same sick feelingwhen she decided to apply to a
school halfway across thecountry.
It was the same gut-wrenchinganxiety when my test scores only
got me into the next state over.
Jealousy could be explained awayin romance, but our relationship
was deeper than that blood ofthe covenant.

(04:47):
Right.
Or at least I hoped.
So James, you good?
I tapped the phone with mypencil and forced the smile
wider.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Sorry.
It's getting light over here.
You get like three extra hoursof sunlight.
Amy snorted.
Yeah.
Yeah, sure.
I'll let you go.
Power nap her fingertip.
Hover over the screen.

(05:08):
It curled slowly.
You know I'd never replace you,right?
You're my sister.
I know that.
Say hi to what's her name forme.
Maybe I'll have to come visit inAssert dominance.
I teased my own finger posedover the red button.
I pitched my voice down in Octa.
There can only be one nerd.
Love you.

(05:28):
Love you Ames.
The screen went black.
Our next study date went fromquiet dorm room to busy tea
house, low conversations cuttingthrough Lo-fi house music.
I was propped up on a couch likea cat, laptop, balanced on my
knee.
I flipped through social medialingually.
There's a high-pitched ding thatdrew my eyes to the screen.

(05:49):
Amy is calling.
I clicked the call button.
Amy's face appeared on thescreen behind her blonde
ponytail.
A large palm tree rose out ofthe lawn.
There were distant shouts overthe wind as students enjoyed the
warm weather.
Must be nice.
Hey, I didn't leave you waiting,did I?
Her voice was thin, like she hadbeen running her cheeks red from

(06:11):
exertion.
I shook my head quickly, settingaside my phone.
Not at all.
It's not too crowded.
Today I scooped up some fruityconcoction and took a long drag
from the straw.
How's that bio exam?
Well, with the curve.
I didn't fail.
She groaned.
She hurriedly propped her phoneup and dug into her messenger
bag.
After a moment, Amy turned herbig, bright green eyes to mine

(06:33):
and puckered her lips.
Please trade me.
She was playing hardball.
She knew I couldn't resist thatface.
Not a chance.
I managed.
Ignoring the heat, pulling undermy eyes.
I'd take an essay over a biolabany day.
I tapped my homework assignmentwindow, obscuring her video as

(06:53):
she settled into our old rhythm.
I wasn't through the first linewhen an unfamiliar voice broke
through the screen.
Hey, Ames.
I thought you'd be at thelibrary.
Amy let out a melodious laugh.
Hey, it's such a nice day.
I thought I'd claim my littlepocket of grass.
I quickly minimized the windowas her camera reappeared.

(07:13):
Beside my best friend was awoman with cropped brown hair,
dressed in a tight fittingHenley in jeans.
Even in the winter, she must beburning up.
She bent down next to Amy andwaved at the screen.
You must be the infamous Janie,the woman beamed front teeth
slightly crooked.
Amy told me so much about you.
Only the scandalous fits.

(07:34):
I hope I offered back an uneasysmile of my own.
My stomach roiled, goosebumpsstudded my arms hidden only by
the grace of my thick sweater.
It was like looking into amirror.
There were little differences.
Her crooked teeth, short side,never dared to wear no visible
tattoos, but there wereundeniable similarities or short

(07:58):
brown hair that curled at thetips, our soft jawline, our
broad nose that I always hatedwhen we played that game in high
school.
We never actually meant it.
Hushed conversations around thelunch table as we dreamed up
scenarios that were neversupposed to come true.
I found your doppelganger.
The woman's attention wassquarely on Amy taking out her

(08:19):
own book.
Did you get our Cal homeworklast night?
I was confused about is shejoining us?
The words escaped my lips beforeI had time to temper them into
something softer.
Amy and the woman's s gazessnapped to the screen.
Amy had the decency to lookembarrassed.
Cheeks, pink.
The woman only looked annoyed.
Would that be okay?
She's in my calc one section.

(08:41):
Amy asked Meekly, the womanstraightened hand on her hip.
Her eyes narrowed.
If I'm interrupting somethingimportant, you could have just
said something.
Ames.
Amy startled eyes blown wide.
Oh, no, no.
Nothing like that.
We just like hanging out whilewe study.
Right, Janie, actually, I couldreally use your help on this one

(09:02):
problem.
As she murmured out excuses, allI could see was Amy silently.
I didn't wanna be the not to Amy, so I cleared my throat.
Uh, no.
No problem at all.
The more the merrier, thewoman's stance relaxed as she
sank into the Dewey grasp besidemy best friend.
Great.
And he'll be like, I'm not evenhere.

(09:23):
I very much doubted that.
But I turned back to my ownhomework.
As she and Amy opened thicktextbooks.
Despite the comforting lull ofAmy's voice, I couldn't finish a
page.
I adjusted the screen and keptmy eye on the tiny image of Amy
and the double my smartwatchbuzzed jerking me from my

(09:44):
pacing.
I drew it up to my eye, somedepartment wide email.
I swiped it away with a huff andcontinued along my path.
My heels clicked along the woodfloor of the dorm.
Amy was 30 minutes late.
We were heading into finals in aweek.
The stress was only building asdeadlines approached and answer.
Keys were swapped.

(10:06):
Every year, Amy and I would callto de-stress and catch up.
It was the last time we wouldspeak before finals forced us to
study.
Eat, sleep, rinse, repeat.
It was a standing date since wewere covered in acne.
Where was she?
I tugged out my phone, shootingher a quick text.
We still on for tonight.
I collapsed onto the brokencommon room couch.

(10:28):
The wood creaked under my weight.
I stared blankly at the phonescreen.
Come on.
The minute began to pass.
Still the phone was inches frommy eyes.
Come on, Amy.
No red receipts, no nothing.
The blue light stung my eyes,but I kept staring.
A million scenarios racedthrough my brain.

(10:51):
Vivid images flew by like astock market ticker.
Amy's splayed out over acrumpled car.
Amy trapped in an elevator,gasping for air, blood dripping
from a cracked skull.
Amy colliding with the lightrail bike wheels flinging toward
the sky.
I bit hard on the inside of mycheek to chase the images away.

(11:13):
She was fine.
The dizzying mental colors bledinto another image.
I know that woman was standingin front of a mirror.
Water dripped from a sink,punctuating the uneasy silence.
Her short hair was tied at thebase of her neck and slick.
She pressed her palm against theglass.

(11:33):
The mirror shimmered andundulate under her touch.
Her lips parted crooked teethsinking into her lower lip.
Her fingers sunk through likewater.
I felt fingertips tracing thehairs along my neck.
The phone slipped from my graspand collided with my nose
yelping.
I shot up from the couch.
Tears began to stream down mycheeks, and I moaned in pain.

(11:57):
My sleep schedule had been shotfor weeks.
Balancing homework in myblossoming career as a barista.
Long hours, restless sleep.
I probably just passed out themoment.
I was still for too long.
I gingerly probed the side of mynose.
No breaks, just a whole lot ofego bruises.
The Judas hunk of plasticdinged.

(12:19):
I screwed up my face, reachingdown to scoop up my phone.
Nearly an hour had passed sinceI checked in with Amy.
I unlocked my phone with a click.
Hey, I'm so sorry.
I forgot.
I'm actually going out tonight.
Can we talk later?
Tears still dripping off mychin.
A lump cemented in my throat.
Forgot.

(12:39):
How could she have forgotten?
I swiped my sleeve under my eyesswiftly.
I was relieved that she wasn'tdead in a ditch, but righteous
anger replaced the rollinganxiety.
She never canceled.
Not in 15 years of friendship.
I closed her message and quicklyswiped over to social media.

(13:00):
I needed to calm down.
This was ridiculous.
I wasn't my best friend'skeeper, but the betrayal felt
thick on my tongue.
I flipped past pictures of otherfriends from high school friends
that I'd been close with, kidwho smoked joints outside the
theater, building the track starwho was my partner in Model Un,
the girl we invited to ourbirthday parties every year.

(13:22):
Every single one of them seemedto drop off the face of the
earth.
Miles apart.
Our interests split.
Our lives separated.
No longer were we tied down tofriendships of convenience.
Amy and I weren't like that.
We had promised we wouldn't be.
I forced myself to suck down adeep breath.
Inhale, 1, 2, 3, 4.

(13:45):
Hold.
1, 2, 3, 4.
Exhale.
1, 2, 3, 4.
My vision began to clear.
I scrubbed under my cheeks.
I pushed the remnants of theanxiety back into place, pushed
them down as deep as they wouldgo.

(14:06):
It was just lack of sleep.
I let my shoulders sink into thethin fabric of the couch.
I let my eyes linger over thebrightly colored images swiping
past and tapping like almost atrandom.
My thumb ran up the edge of thescreen.
It was a hazy picture, dimly litalong the edges.
It was barely recognizable as abar.

(14:26):
Two girls were pressed cheek tocheek center frame arms draped
around each other's waists.
One girl balanced a brightlycolored drink in her hand.
The other flipped off thecamera.
One blonde with puppy doll eyes.
One brunette with crooked teeth.
It was timestamped.
10 minutes earlier, I closed theapp quickly and hurled my phone

(14:47):
towards the wall.
I am so sorry.
Amy's voice crackled out of myphone.
The screen had a long crack downthe center from the abuse before
finals week.
I'm surprised it was even usablelast minute.
There was a stance nighthappening and we, I get it.
Okay.
It's not a big deal.
I tried to brush it off.

(15:07):
I stuffed another sweater intomy bulging duffle bag.
Amy's side.
But it is, I swear, I totallyspaced.
By the time I got your message,we were already at the bar and I
couldn't have called you if Iwanted to.
Her voice sounded shrill.
I tugged open a drawer a littletoo quickly and cursed as it
jumped to the track.
I said, it's not a big deal.
And then you didn't text meback.

(15:29):
I'm such a bad friend, Amy.
I'm over it.
I snapped.
I nearly dropped the drawer.
I get it.
You wanna spend time with otherpeople.
I'm just your best friend, notyour wife.
Silence Ames.
I wasn't trying to be.
You're mad about her, aren'tyou?
Amy's shrill.
Panic had dulled, almostmonotone.

(15:50):
I managed to wrestle the drawerto the ground with a curse.
I darted over the phone,scooping it off the bed and
pressing it to my ear.
No, that's not what I'm saying.
It's not like you're my onlyfriend.
Janie.
Amy continued.
I'm sorry I didn't tell yousooner, but you didn't have to
make me seem like an.
I'm not.
I tried.

(16:11):
No, that's what you did.
You're jealous, aren't you?
You're jealous of her.
The world spun my free handcurled in the comforter, Amy.
It's, it's not a big deal.
You know you've always been likethis.
A laugh ripped through with acrackle.
You've always been sopossessive.

(16:32):
We didn't fight in all thoseyears.
Not once had we fought.
Not over a toy, not over acrush.
Never.
The words coming from thespeaker dripped with vitriol.
My voice stuck in my chest.
My grip tightened.
Knuckles turning white.
I felt fingertips brushed theback of my neck.

(16:52):
Amy's rant poured throughpiercing the fog of my anxiety.
My world doesn't revolve aroundyou, Janie.
I can spend my time with anyoneI want in any way I want.
Just because you don't have anyother friends.
I couldn't fight back if Iwanted to.
The anxiety bubbled up,tightening my chest.

(17:13):
It felt like my head wasexpanding, inflating like a
balloon.
I was weightless, transparent.
Nothing existed except thedread.
The phone dropped from my hand.
The clutter of tile silencedAmy.
Minutes passed.
I hunched over the bed, handpressed against my rocketing
heart.

(17:33):
Quiet sobs escaped my tremblinglips.
The phone laid still and quiet.
It felt like drowning, floatingtowards the surface, but never
able to reach it.
I clawed upwards.
I tried to catch my breath, butthe lump widen.
My vision went white.
Those horrible images returningwith a vengeance.

(17:55):
Amy crumpled under a bus.
Amy trapped in a flooding car,bloody broken the mirror
rippled.
I stood before it.
The water punctuated my panickedbreath.
I reached toward the glass tearsstreaming down my cheeks.
My fingertips brushed againsther neck.

(18:17):
Finally, a small voicewhispered.
Chanie, have a good winterbreak.
I croaked reaching forward andhitting end call.
Breaking up was easier thanthis.
The message is filtered in everyday, sometimes multiple times a
day.
First, they were apologetic,begging that I forgive her for

(18:37):
the cruel words.
She was my best friend.
She didn't mean a word of it.
She loved me and missed me.
I didn't have the energy toanswer.
Then they were angry, demandingthat I answer her cruel words,
saying I was paranoid.
I was nothing like the woman,the woman who seemed to always
be there.

(18:58):
I was nothing like her.
I silenced my phone.
Finally, there were messagesfrom the woman, Amy's phone, but
the words so twisted and wrongthat it couldn't be from her
decreeing that I should stayaway from Amy if she didn't need
me anymore, had been replaced.
I deleted my social mediaaccounts.

(19:19):
It was more than a breakup.
I was in mourning.
I stayed shut in my parents'house, huddled under childhood
quilts.
I couldn't bear to look at thepictures spread across the wall.
Happier times of a bubbly blondeand her shy best friend.
I picked up my food, eatingenough to silence the hunger.
I couldn't sleep whenever Iclosed my eyes.

(19:43):
I saw the mirror.
The news dropped.
Not a week later, my dad hadflicked on the TV to check the
scores.
When the ticker raced across thebottom of the screen, co-ed from
West Coast University founddead.
His thumb hovered over theremote.
Browsed, furrowed.
Hey Janie, doesn't Amy go tothat school?
My eyes lifted from my laptop.

(20:05):
A half-assed attempt of a paper.
What are you talking about?
My dad changed the channel.
The cameras focused on a policeofficer hat tucked under his
arm.
Thick bulbous microphones nearlyobscured his face.
Reporters burst into a loudbarrage of questions.
He lifted his hand to try andcalm them.

(20:25):
At this time, the killer hasbeen identified and is in
custody.
No motive has yet beendetermined.
I pushed the laptop aside andslid forward.
I strained to hear over thereporter's clattering voices.
Amy went home for winter break.
I murmured.
My dad didn't respond.
Hand settling on my back.
The suspect was taken intocustody yesterday.

(20:46):
At 1400 hours, he continued.
We have lifted the shelter inplace, warning at the
university, but asked that allstudents contact their family
members.
The image faded on screen besidethe podium.
A woman with short curled brownhair, a broad nose and crooked
teeth drawn back into a snare.
My dad's grip tightened on myshoulder.

(21:08):
Man, that's uncanny.
I couldn't breathe.
Amy went home for winter breakafter interviews with known
acquaintances.
The suspect was not enrolled atthe university and was living in
an apartment complex justoutside of the main campus.
We have taken her phone intoevidence and at this time we can
confirm there are multiplepictures of the victim.

(21:29):
We have reason to believe thatthe suspect had been following
the victim.
For some time, my fingers liftedand traced the hollow of my
throat.
They settled on the back of myneck, squeezing firmly.
Amy went home for winter break.
Sources close to the victim saidthey had been close friends.
So it is unknown what triggeredthis particular act of violence.

(21:50):
The woman's picture cross fadedinto another.
I recognized it immediately.
It was the summer before weparted ways, pressed together
tightly and beaming like we hadnothing to lose.
Amy's hair was tied back, brightblue eyes shining with tears.
My face was blurred pastrecognition.
Amy didn't go home for winterbreak.

(22:13):
My dad lifted his arm, but Icaught his wrist.
I had to see it.
I had to know, excuse me, excuseme.
Have you determined a cause ofdeath?
A reporter asked, lifting amicrophone into frame the
victim's throat was slit.
The officer confirmed gravelyand the murder weapon, my lips

(22:35):
formed the words as the policeofficer leaned forward into the
microphones.
A broken mirror,

Speaker 2 (22:43):
My goodness.
Layers on layers

Speaker 1 (22:46):
Like an onion.

Speaker 2 (22:48):
Uh, more so, more, even more than an onion.

Speaker 1 (22:51):
What's more layer than an onion?

Speaker 2 (22:53):
This story,

Speaker 1 (22:54):
.
It's so good.
I love it.
And there's so many socialmoments of social cringiness
that I really relate to.
Like, like when you like are somad about something and you just
say something, you know, it'slike I could see myself in some
of these moments and I, Iconnected to it a lot that

Speaker 2 (23:10):
Way.
Also, Ashley Tam, that's a voicewe haven't heard in a while.

Speaker 1 (23:14):
Ashley Tam was on one of the very first episodes of
Lunatics Radio Hour.
She is a wonderful near and dearfriend and she did an excellent
job with this story.
So good.
Like I love pairing the rightreader to the right story and I,
I will pat myself on the backfor this one, cuz I think we did
it.

Speaker 2 (23:31):
I think it worked out great.

Speaker 1 (23:32):
Yeah.
Thank you so much, Ashley.
It was excellent.

Speaker 2 (23:35):
I think this was a very good classic doppelganger
story.

Speaker 1 (23:38):
Absolutely.
Okay, so based on the categorieswe talked about in the last
episode, which werepsychological mm-hmm.
paranormal.
Yes.
Science fiction or just, so howwould you classify this?
I have my opinion.

Speaker 2 (23:52):
I think it's somewhere between paranormal and
just so I

Speaker 1 (23:57):
Ag I agree verbatim.

Speaker 2 (23:58):
That's because we have recorded a lot of Doble
Ganger stuff.
Uhhuh,, and now weknow.

Speaker 1 (24:03):
Yeah, I think it's, it's very much just so the part
that I think is a littleparanormal is that the Janie
character seems to have likepremonitions or you know, kind
of some kinda like visions ofwhat's going on.
She feels the fingers on theback of her neck.
Like there's something a littleparanormal happening.

Speaker 2 (24:19):
Also, I love the imagery of the

Speaker 1 (24:21):
Mirror.
Yes, I do too.
And I love that.
That was the murder weapon atthe end.
Very satisfying

Speaker 2 (24:27):
Spoilers for anybody that jumped in.
Jumped in, jump.
Jumped ahead.
Yeah.

Speaker 1 (24:30):
Yeah.
I hope that Mads will write morefor us.
So Mads reached out aboutwriting a story, which I was so
excited for, kind of based onthe premise of what we've talked
about, Alan, when you're oncampus and you're like, oh, I
just saw your doppelganger.
You know, and so that's kind ofthe inspiration that started the
whole thing.

Speaker 2 (24:46):
It's a good one.

Speaker 1 (24:47):
So good.
I'm so impressed.
Yeah.
Follow ads on Instagram.
We'll put her Instagram handlein the description.

Speaker 2 (24:53):
Yeah.
Click the link

Speaker 1 (24:54):
Below.
Yeah, let's keep tabs on whatshe's up to.
You know,

Speaker 2 (24:56):
Indeed.

Speaker 1 (24:57):
, shall we move on to our second story?

Speaker 2 (25:00):
Sure.
What's up next?

Speaker 1 (25:02):
All right, Alan.
Second story of the day.
Also the first time we'refeaturing this writer on
Lunatics Radio.
Hour two for two.
Two.

Speaker 2 (25:10):
Okay.
Great.

Speaker 1 (25:10):
Sheldon Higdon's work has appeared in publications
such as Room or Magazine, thePortland Monthly Magazine Tales
from the Lake, volume fourWriters on writing Volume four
Madhouse and in DarknessDelight, fear The Future among
others.
His contemporary fantasy horror,middle grade novel, the Eerie
Brothers and The Witches ofAutumn, arrives in 2023 this

(25:33):
year from Scary Dairy Press.
, I love that.
Sheldon is also an award-winningscreenwriter and has an MFA in
writing popular fiction from CHill University.
He is a member of the HorrorWriter Association.
To keep tabs on him, you cancheck out his
website@sheldonhigdon.com orfollow him on Twitter at higden
sheldon.
And of course we'll pop all thisin the description so you don't

(25:55):
need to memorize it.

Speaker 2 (25:56):
All right, I'm gonna roll the tape.

Speaker 3 (26:02):
Drowning sorrow.
My Sheldon Red, my shorts hook.

Speaker 5 (26:13):
The writhing worm struggled to slip free from the
hook.
Its Bulbus ends curling,fighting to escape its
inevitable end as though it knewwhat waited in the cold abyss of
the Androscoggin River.
As the water flowed by Simonpierced the hook through the
worm and then wrapped it over,skewering it once more for good
measure with a crude fishingpole he had made from a long,

(26:35):
thick stick.
He tossed the fishing line intothe river and watched the bobber
battle the current as the wormweighted out its fate below, he
placed his homemade rod into a Yshaped branch.
He had plucked from the thicketbehind him, shoving it into the
ground as a makeshift holder.
Simon wished it was the one hisdad had, the one he used to use.

(26:56):
He dug into a brown paper bagand pulled out a sandwich that
was jacketed and wax paper onit.
A heart had been drawn in greenmarker with the words, I'm
sorry, sweetie.
Love you printed beneath it.
Simon unwrapped the sandwich hismom had made No note would make
up for what she did.
You ruined our family.

(27:17):
He shook his head and leanedback on his elbows beneath the
shady shelter of a poplar treeand forced the bubbling
resentment back down.
The grass was lush and greenbeneath him, he wiggled his toes
and smiled as the blades tickledhis skin.
A cool breeze skimmed across hishair, slaying strands across his
forehead, and with reluctance,he bit off a morsel.

(27:38):
From his butter and grape jellysandwich.
The sun reflected off the riverlike thousands of crystals
dancing about its surface.
Simon shielded his eyes from thegleaming river that sparkled in
his face.
The bobber went under and poppedback up.
Simon sat up dumping his halfeaten sandwich back into the
brown bag and took a hold of hisfishing stick.

(28:00):
The bobber went under and stayedunder before he could jerk the
line back.
It shot straight across theriver, droplets of the
androscoggin dripped from theline as it drew taut to the
other side.
He yanked his stick back andfelt it arc giving a little but
not breaking from the pressure.
Simon hoped he hooked whateverhad taken the worm into its
mouth.

(28:20):
He felt the line tug and dartupstream and then shoot directly
back across from him to theother side.
He dug his heels into the greengrass, readying himself for the
fight.
His mind flipped through imagesof salmon or trout he'd caught
in this river with his dadthroughout his 13 year history,
but this was bigger, stronger.

(28:40):
His dad once told him how hecaught a northern pike in the
skain, but it had snapped hisline and got away.
Maybe this was that fish.
The thought of his dad brought amemory of when he'd learned to
cast his first line when he wasnine, warm and bright.
Like today, he wore his clamdigger's dig muck shirt, the one
his dad had picked up at theannual clam bake that occurred

(29:02):
at the end of October.
Simon had stood at the river'sedge with his pants rolled up
into cuffs wide-eyed as his dadgripped his large hands over his
and guided him casting the lineinto the river.
Remember Simon, his dad hadsaid, fishing is not about the
catch, but the time we havebetween casts.
He had flashed a movie starsmile and ruffled Simon's hair.

(29:26):
We only have so much of it.
The thought faded to last yearwhen he overheard his dad and
mom arguing her voice screaming.
The words get out, which foreverimpaled themselves into Simon's
consciousness while he sat onhis bed with with his knees to
his chest and arms wrapped upover his head, tears flowing
like the androscoggin.

(29:48):
The man he loved was gone withhim.
That fishing pole he learned tocast on because of her.
Simon would miss out on futurememories, such as learning how
to drive the truck in theparking lot of Hanford's grocery
store, learning how to throw asolid punch or how to be a
gentleman.
On his first date, a snapbrought Simon back to his

(30:09):
battle, but instead of a fight,the fishing line fell into the
river.
The bobber floated downstream.
Well, the heavy sigh.
He pulled in the remaining wetline and tossed the makeshift
rod down next to him.
He sat wiping his face with theback of his arm and plucked his
remaining sandwich from thebrown paper bag.
The shade from the poplar treehad grown in size and now had

(30:31):
covered the rest of the bank andspilled down into the river a
cooled breeze.
Prickled Simon's skin.
He shivered as he ate theremains of his sandwich.
He gazed out across the riverwondering what he had lost, but
no fish came to mind.
We only have so much of itacross the river at its edge.

(30:52):
Simon's eyes fell on a spotwhere bubbles began sprouting to
the surface.
Even in the river's continuousflow, they could be seen
distinctly.
They were rapid like boilingwater.
He leaned forward, knitting hisbrow and caulking his head to
the side, trying to figure outwhat it came from.
Up above the sun slid behind agray cloud, cloaking the river

(31:13):
in darkness.
Simon lost sight of where thebubbles had been popping and
bursting in succession.
A large splash came from thewater.
He studied the river and waitedfor another, and just as fast as
the sunlight disappeared, itreturned squinting from the now
bright light.
He scanned down the ska and andsaw nothing.
No fish lept into the air.

(31:35):
There was nothing except for awet boy who stood on the other
side of the river, staringdirectly at him a sense of
sadness.
Entangled Simon, like abacklash, a fishing line.
He shielded his eyes to get abetter view, only to see that
the young boy had disappeared.
He rubbed his eyes.
Maybe the glare of the sunreflecting off the river caused

(31:56):
him to see something that wasn'tthere.
Maybe the boy jumped into thebushes that lined the river.
Maybe it was all in Simon'shead, even though he stood on
the other side of the river.
Far from Simon's view, the boylooked familiar in some odd way
and hopelessness.
The feeling of hopelessnessswathed him when he looked at
the boy, but it was one with noreason.

(32:19):
Simon wanted to cry.
He put his head into his handsand drew a deep breath releasing
a sigh.
His thoughts crashed around likerapids smashing over jagged
rocks.
He pictured himself beingcarried away down the endra and
heads slipping below thesurface, hands following and
disappearing into the coldwater.

(32:40):
The voice reeled Simon'sthoughts from the river.
It was a voice he'd never heardbefore, but yet was somehow
familiar.
It came from over his shoulder.
A drop of cool water splashed ontop of Simon's head.
He turned around to the wet boystanding before him.
It's like looking into a mirror,ain't it?

(33:00):
The sudden boy said Simon losthis breath and the feeling of
water trickling down his skingave him a chill that ran deep
into his bones, burrowing itselfinto the marrow.
As Simon slowly stood, thefamiliarity came into pinpoint
focus.
The boy looked just like him,except the boy's appearance

(33:21):
seemed darker as if covered inconstant shade.
His hair wasn't blonde, but anash and gray.
His eyes were like the color ofburnt charcoal.
Bruises and infected lacerationscovered his skin, which was
slimy and milky like the bottomof a dead fish floating belly up
down the river and the boy'sshirt, just like when Simon wore

(33:45):
that shirt the day his dadtaught him how to cast his first
line.
Clam diggers, dig, muck.
Even his pants were rolled intocuffs.
Nauseousness swept over Simoncausing his head to swim and his
belly to sour like a twin.
The boy said, leaning againstthe poplar tree and swatting at

(34:05):
a fly that circled him.
Simon took several steps back.
He forced what little saliva hehad down his dry throat.
Might wanna watch yourself.
The boy said, plucking a leaffrom the tree.
The fly landed on his foreheadand then darted off.
Don't wanna fall in now, do we?
Who?
Who are you?
I mean you.

(34:27):
Simon rubbed his palms into hiseyes trying to clear away what
he hoped was the after effect ofa bad sandwich.
You already know the boy said.
Taking a step closer andexamining the homemade fishing
rod that lay on the ground.
Simon glanced down and saw thatthe boys, every step left a
brown footprint in its wakegreen grass dying.

(34:49):
It's not the same as the one welearned on, but it works.
Simon glanced at his rod.
Fishing is not about the catch.
Miss him.
Huh?
The boy asked.
But the time we have betweencasts, Simon still wasn't sure
if this was a daydream or if hewas lying in the shaggy grass,
sleeping in the shade of thepopular tree.

(35:11):
Tears bubbled in Simon's eyes ashis dad's image floated back to
him.
He swore he felt his dad's handsover his.
The confusion and fear he feltearlier now swirled sadness back
into the whirlpool of hisemotions.
Yeah, Simon wiped his eyes clearwith the back of his arm, but

(35:34):
the soaked boy smiled,revealing, chipped black teeth,
jagged and sharp like theprotruding rocks of the river.
But what?
Simon Sniffled, but he nevercame back for me.
He thumbed his eyes clear.
The conversation flowed betweenthem as if they had spoken to
each other a thousand timesbefore, but it didn't squelch

(35:56):
the emptiness.
Simon felt the loss or was itlost?
The weather turned again and theblue sky gave way to gray
clouds, thick and dark plumpclouds that looked like they
were about to burst into atorrential downpour at any
moment.
Why is that?
Simon?
He sat on the ground, the greengrass turning brown beneath him.

(36:19):
The fly was now on his haircrawling across it.
Why didn't he come back for us?
Simon turned and faced theriver.
The water rushed past.
For a moment, he ignored thequestion and thought about the
worm.
He had baited earlier how itstruggled between his fingers
flipping its ends to break freefrom its demise.
I don't know.
Said Simon.

(36:41):
Cold rain began to fall from theladen clouds.
What about mom?
The boy said, who cares?
Simon spun toward the boy.
Why didn't she leave?
Instead?
Tears fell from his eyes andintermingled with the rain.
She's the reason he left.
If she is the boy stood up andtook a step closer to Simon,
then why'd you come here?

(37:03):
Simon turned back to the river.
It was a question he'd thoughtabout a hundred times since his
dad left.
A question he never answeredaloud, but one he had an answer
for.
The rain fell harder.
Now large drops splashing intothe river.
The androscoggin roar carryingdead branches down its wide
throat water crept up the sideof the grassy bank licking his

(37:25):
toes.
What would you say if she weredead?
The boy asked from behind andthen chuckled, piercing Simon's
ears as if his words were acrack of thunder.
Simon wins hunching hisshoulders.
He's never coming back for us.
You so who cares, right?
She told him to leave, remember?
And if she were dead, then he'dhave to come back for us.

(37:47):
You Simon took a step toward therushing water and looked
downriver at the sharp graniterocks sticking out the water,
cascaded over them, creating awhite, angry waterfall.
I can't I know, said the boy.
What else do you remember?
Nothing.
Just

Speaker 6 (38:06):
How could you and with her, with that, that get
out,

Speaker 5 (38:13):
The rain fell harder.
Thunder rolled lightning,sparked overhead, causing the
hairs on his neck to stand.
His heart pounded like fistsagainst the door of his chest as
more of his mom's words revealedthemselves to him.
Yes you do.
The boy said you blocked it outas you cried in your bed.
Arms wrapped up over your head.
Why do you think they arguedSimon's mind raced for more

(38:37):
images, another memory, anythingto bring back his dad Happiness
but nothing emerged.
His dad left that day because?
Because Why?
Simon?
You know, because you heard thescreaming the boy poked the air
at him.
The words Because why?

(38:58):
Simon turned back to the boy andsaid, because he loved another
lady.
The boy splashed a grin acrosshis face, his broken teeth
glistened in the rain.
Yeah, that one he worked with.
Several flies crawled across theboy's face and he brushed them
away.
Marta, the red-headed lady.
He chose her over mom over you.

(39:21):
The broke and suppressedmemories flooded Simon with his
dad's large hands over hisguiding him.
They had cast the line into theriver.
Remember Simon fishing's?
Not about the catch, but thetime we have between casts.
Speaking of time, Marta said shewas curvy and wore red lipstick

(39:44):
that matched the color of herbra that peeked out from her
loose blouse.
Her high heels and tight skirtcompleted her ensemble.
Let's take that walk we talkedabout.
She leaned against the poplartree with a blanket over her arm
and a bottle in her hand.
You sit here and catchwhatever's in the water.
All right, kid.
Simon balled his hands intofists and pressed his

(40:05):
fingernails into his palms atthe reverie.
I'll be back.
Simon, stay here.
Maybe you'll catch a big one.
I know I will.
The red-headed lady had giggled.
He held his hands out and sawCrims in half moons carved into
his palms.
He snatched the homemade fishingrod from the ground and flung it
into the river.

(40:25):
And with it he screamed with hiswhole body, tensed muscles
corded.
He released the memories, themoments, the words.
I hate you.
It wasn't directed at the boy orat his father for that matter,
but at himself for refusing toaccept what he always knew.
Deep down at a lost boy wholoved his dad so much that he

(40:46):
had no love to offer his mother.
Once his dad left for the firsttime, Simon accepted the painful
truth that was inside him.
All along, he let go of his dad.
He let go of himself.
I couldn't face, face it, saidSimon bawling into his hands.
I wouldn't be believe it.

(41:08):
How can I face mom now after howI've treated her regret?
Claude.
Its way up.
Simon's back and perched itselfon his shoulders.
She wasn't the one who gave up.
You know, she won't understandnow, said the boy.
Not after what?
You put her through the angertoward her.
I did.

(41:28):
Simon continued to cry.
The androscoggin competedagainst him as it howled in the
falling rain.
The river now splashed aroundhis ankles, cold against his
skin.
He looked up at his doppelgangerand bellowed.
I wish I were.
I know it's why you came here.
It's why I came here to helpyou.
The boy leans towards Simonflies buzzing at his ear.

(41:51):
The damage has been done.
You can't go back home.
The boys' words sank down intothe pit of Simon's stomach,
never having the chance to riseback up into a crying fit of
shock and misery because Simonhad taken a step and splashed
into the river.
The water was cold.
Its current swirled him underand around and its murky depth.

(42:13):
He fought to the surface andtook a deep breath.
The rain poured from thedarkened sky pelting his face
through blurred vision.
He saw no boy on the riverbank,only the poplar tree.
You made him leave.
Simon rushed down river towardthe crashing falls to the jagged
rocks.
He arrived in the water with hishead above the surface, gasping

(42:37):
for air and flailed his armsgrasping at dead branches That
drifted along with him.
I wish you weren't my mom then.
Like a bobber.
He went under and popped backup.
I, I wish I were.
He quickly inhaled as much airas he could swallowing river
water as he did so dead.

(42:59):
He held his breath.
I know you don't mean that,sweetie.
I love you.
Keeping his mom's words withhim.
Simon stopped fighting thestrong current and exhaled,
letting the endra skogen takehim under to where he faced his
fate, just like the worm.

Speaker 2 (43:20):
Hot.
Dang.
That's good.

Speaker 1 (43:21):
Such a good story.
So good.
And, and I love that it was alittle bit different than some
of the horror stuff that we, youknow, tend to feature.
It was a little more familialand rooted in trauma that I
think a lot of people can relateto in some way.

Speaker 2 (43:36):
And, uh, another very traditional doppelganger story.

Speaker 1 (43:41):
Exactly.

Speaker 2 (43:42):
This was psychological.

Speaker 1 (43:44):
Very good, very well categorized.
Yes.
And kind of the other version ofyourself leading you to a
conclusion that you need to getto.

Speaker 2 (43:51):
I love this story.
Yeah, I mean also incrediblewriting.
Uh, I certainly hope that, uh,Sheldon will grace us with more
of their writing because this isincredible.

Speaker 1 (44:02):
I agree.
He did such a good job.
The story was so good.
It pre-existed before our callfor stories for this episode,
but another wonderful debut.
Two

Speaker 2 (44:12):
For two.
Two for two.
Is this like part of a shortstory collection?
Do you happen to know?

Speaker 1 (44:17):
I don't happen to know, but I do know, which we
read in his bio that he has abook coming out this year, like
a novel that tracks, it's calledagain, the Eerie Brothers and
The Witches of Autumn.

Speaker 2 (44:30):
Uh, also another bang up narration by John Cook.

Speaker 1 (44:33):
As always,

Speaker 2 (44:34):
I loved his

Speaker 1 (44:34):
Effects.
I was gonna say I loved hiseffects.
I was excited to see yourreaction to them.

Speaker 2 (44:39):
Love when they sprinkle him in.

Speaker 1 (44:42):
So again, you can follow Sheldon on Twitter at
higdon.
Sheldon will link everything inthe description below.
John Cook's podcast, famously isthe Fido podcast.
We collaborate with him often,but if you haven't yet listened
to Fido, we cannot praise itenough.
So please go check that out aswell.

Speaker 2 (44:58):
I thought you say we cannot endorse it.
.
Yeah, I mean that is a good one.
Do can we go three for three?

Speaker 1 (45:06):
So three for three.
We have not a debut writer, buta writer that's only been
featured one time previously,very recently, and we loved his
work.
Okay.
Duncan Overton debuted onlunatics Radio Hour in our last
lunatics library episode on thefound footage Horror stories.
Okay.
And today he is back with adoppelganger story for us.

(45:29):
Oh.

Speaker 2 (45:29):
Oh, I'm sorry.
Was that the asylum story?
Yes, that was a good one.
I like that.
Yeah, we got'em again.

Speaker 1 (45:35):
We got'em again.
Heck yeah.
Before we jump into this one, Ido wanna say that this story is
dedicated to Trent Simon, hiswife, Alicia, and his parents,
Tim and Nancy Trent was a dearfriend of Duncan who
unfortunately passed awayrecently, and Duncan wanted to
dedicate this story to hisfriend, which we are very, very
happy to do.

(45:55):
Without further ado, our finaldoppelganger story,

Speaker 3 (46:04):
Illusion of Dopel by Duncan over Red by Michael.

Speaker 7 (46:14):
When you think of something you look at every day,
what comes to mind?
Your phone.
Your car.
A loved one.
Your own face.
Features on our own face arefamiliar by nature.
We see them in every reflection.
We know every contour, zit andwrinkle whether we want to or
not.
Close your eyes and picture yourface.

(46:36):
You know what it looks like,feels like, but what if you
don't recognize it?
What if you don't recognizeothers?
How disorienting might thatbecome for you?
For anyone?
Capris syndrome named afterJoseph Kares in 1923, is
classified as a psychiatricdisorder in which one believes

(46:57):
that family close friends orothers in their life have been
replaced by doppelgangers clonesor identical imposters.
It is a very real syndrome, butit's only been diagnosed since
1923.
What about before then?
May 18th, 1917 to November 14th,1917, the world had been

(47:22):
engulfed in conflict.
When John Redding sought toenlist, John knew he was
destined for greater things.
In escaping the coal mines ofWest Virginia was the beginning
of his grand adventure.
John could barely read, but hadheard the stories his grandpa
told him about the westernfrontier cattle drives and
killing those savages.

(47:43):
John had romanticized thesestories and the thrill of
adventure always called to him.
His days would be spent in theminds dreaming about riding
across the planes many times,almost costing him or others
their life with an errand pickaxswing.
After the Eccles Mind disasterin April, 1914 and Leland Mine

(48:04):
explosion in 1915, John had beenlooking for other employment.
Sadly, nothing was forthcomingin West Virginia, especially for
someone who never finishedfourth grade and knew nothing
but laboring in the minds day inand day out.
When the war broke out in 1914,John saw his opportunity but had
to wait another three years forthe United States to enter.

(48:27):
His mother was against her babyboy going overseas to fight for
some foreigners, and his fatherdidn't believe that John would
survive a minute in a war zone.
However, in May, 1917, John madehis way to Charleston, West
Virginia by jumping on a freighttrain in Wheeling West Virginia
at the northern tip of thestate.

(48:49):
John knew he wasn't that smart,but it heard from a friend that
the recruitment office inCharleston would sign up anyone
and ship them out.
Three of John's friends joinedhim and helped him through the
draft process.
The four were shipped offtogether to Camp Mills in Long
Island, New York.
The training was grueling andbrief because they joined a

(49:10):
group of expeditionary forcesthat were initially used to
bolster depleted ranks of Frenchand British soldiers.
John saw immediate action fromthe moment they landed in
France.
His friends cut bullets, mortarshells and mustard gas, but John
survived one day.
After a few months of sloggingthrough the trenches in the

(49:31):
western front, John was assignedthe unenviable task of a new
wiring party.
His commanding officerrecognized John's pension for
securing the tunnels in thetrenches and assigned him this
new role.
Under the cover of Night, Johnand the new party dug tunnels
repaired their own barbed wireand sabotage the enemies barbed

(49:51):
dwyer and defenses.
John excelled at this work.
Not a single of his tunnelscollapsed and he and his platoon
were responsible for asignificant push into enemy
territory.
Then one night John and hissquad of sapers emerged from a
tunnel and came face-to-facewith another squad of enemy

(50:11):
sapers.
Both squads were caught in noman's land and didn't want to
risk fire from either side.
They all laid down theirpistols, drew knives, clubs, and
brass knuckles.
The following five minutes offighting was the most brutal
John had been a part of sincearriving in Europe.
He had never taken a life up tothis point.

(50:33):
Sure, he had shot at the enemy,but he wasn't a sniper and had
no way of knowing if his bulletsever found their mark.
However, there're in no man'sland.
John accounted for three deathsof enemy combatants.
His standard issue us Mark onetrench knife found the heart of
one soldier.
The brass knuckles bludgeonedanother until his face had

(50:55):
collapsed into his skull and thethird soldier had disarmed John.
But his years of backbreakinglabor had hardened his hands and
forearms and John watched as thelife left his enemy's eyes.
This skirmish had been conductedin absolute silence.
John had bitten down on hisbandana to keep from screaming,

(51:16):
but the final kill and therealization that he was the only
one left alive in that craterbrought forth a primal yell that
alerted both sides to hisposition.
Immediately, machine gunfire litthe night sky and John was
caught by a round that wasscattered and partially
deflected by his helmet.
Still some fragments penetratedinto his skull.

(51:40):
As John lay there looking up atthe night sky, he imagined
riding across the planes withhis grandpa.
He thought of the minds and hisparents and he closed his eyes.
June 28th, 1919 to November14th, 1919, John woke up in the

(52:00):
Wheeling hospital.
How long had he been asleep?
Where was he?
The last thing he remembered waslooking at the night sky in a
muddy field in France.
John bolted up in bed, rolled tothe ground and scrambled to the
door.
The last thing he remembered waskilling three men in war and

(52:21):
this place scrubbed clean andnot covered in mud, terrified
him as he tried to stand at thedoor.
John's legs gave out.
He couldn't stand and couldbarely crawl.
He was so disoriented that hevomited something he didn't
recognize and lostconsciousness.
The next time John woke up, hewas restrained with belts

(52:43):
attached to the side of his bed.
A nurse was there and after afew moments of terror and panic,
she had calmed him enough toexplain that he was in Wheeling
hospital in West Virginia andthat his family would be there
shortly to see him.
His father arrived about an hourlater as daylight was starting
to fade into Twilight, Johnrecognized his father.

(53:05):
At least he thought herecognized him.
The person standing in front ofhim was not John's father.
John knew his father's face, andthis was not it.
John's accusations that this manwas an imposter turned to rage
and fury when his restraintscontinued to hold as the strain
caused John to loseconsciousness, the last thought

(53:27):
in his mind was, that is not myfather.
Many men returned from thetrenches of the war changed.
These changes ranged from themundane to the extreme.
John's father was told aboutthese conditions, Shellshock,
the papers had called it andinformed by the hospital that

(53:49):
John May never be the sameagain.
Two months later, John wasreleased from Wheeling Hospital
into the care of his father.
The shock of his mother'spassing to the Spanish flu the
year prior to his waking hadcaused some concern for John,
but his refusal to admit hisfather was his father with each
visit was what kept himrestrained to the bed.

(54:11):
John finally realized that theonly way to get out of the
hospital was to play along withthe charade, and he did.
Of course, this man is myfather.
He would tell the nurses anddoctors at the second to last
visit.
I would know my father's faceanywhere, and this is the man
who saw me off to war.

(54:32):
John proclaimed that day hisfather visited.
The doctors were glad to seeJohn leave and were astounded
that in the two months sincewaking, he had apparently
recovered almost 80%.
John was celebrated as a warhero for the next week by the
entire town.
He was thrown his first partyand everyone wanted to shake his

(54:52):
hand and hear about his time inthe war.
John was overwhelmed by all ofthis, avoiding many of the
stories, especially the lastnight he can remember he told of
the mund and the marvels ofEurope, he regaled everyone with
fictional tales of othersoldiers lives he had
encountered.

(55:12):
All the while he kept an eye oneveryone's faces.
All of these people, friends andneighbors.
He had known all of his entirelife, people he had worked with
in the mines, all of them hadthe wrong face.
John thought their faces weresimilar, close, almost
identical, but they were wrong.

(55:36):
He knew they were wrong.
Everyone was wrong.
He was surrounded by thewrongness of every face he
looked at, but he couldn't letit show.
If he let it show that he knewthey would know and he would be
strapped to that bed.
Again, John grin and beared it,but he knew.

(55:57):
They knew.
He knew that their faces werewrong.
He could see them whisper andtalk behind his back.
After the party was over, hecould feel their wrong stares
every time he stepped outside.
John's behavior quickly becamereclusive and erratic.
His father knew something waswrong, but did not have the
time, energy, or knowledge ofhow to help his son.

(56:22):
He talked with the Wheelingsteel corporation foreman,
thinking that maybe getting Johnback down in the mines would do
him some good.
Get him into a routine.
It took a few weeks ofnegotiating, but eventually
John's father succeeded and gotJohn a position at the mine
inspecting the tunnels forstructural integrity.

(56:43):
During this period before hewent back to work, John visited
his mother's grave overlookingthe Ohio River, a small church
cemetery in Moundsville.
West Virginia was her finalresting place and John thought
it would bring him comfort totalk with her.
The first visit was nothingspectacular.

(57:03):
John brought a sandwich he hadbought at the five and dime in
town and split it in two hamsandwiches were her favorite, at
least he thought they were.
He left her half on thegravestone as he talked about
the war, talked about thatnight, talked about the faces
and how everyone was wrong.
The next week when he visited,John heard voices on the wind.

(57:29):
He heard his mother and othervoices telling him that they
were below.
He didn't understand what thismeant.
He knew the dead couldn't speakto the living, could they?
He cried out for more, moreinformation, more knowledge,
more time.
But all he was met with was thewind sweeping down the Ohio

(57:52):
River.
John visited his mother's gravea few more times.
Each time there were no morevoices, but he heard in his head
a chant of below.
After a few minutes, the woundbelow his ear and his eyes would
start to throb and John had toleave on returning home.

(58:14):
After each of these occasions,John would not recognize
anyone's faces.
It wasn't that they were wrong,they were just not there.
This was marginally better thanthe faces being wrong to John,
but he knew something had to bedone.
These imposters had to bestopped and the people of the
town had to be saved.
They must be below undergroundin the mine.

(58:37):
John had to figure out a way toget into the mine.
Monday, April 28th, 1924, 1:00AM John had been at work in the
Benwood mine for five years.
He had walked every tunnel,touched every seam, and knew

(58:58):
every board in track.
Late underground.
The structural integrity of themine could not be questioned
because John was good at hisjob.
He had been good in thetrenches.
John had lived his life andminds even in the war.
He found himself underground andthe familiarity and darkness did
wonders for John to everyone atthe company who was a stellar

(59:22):
employee, a war hero, and a hardworker.
John had explored every oldtunnel and prospected and
oversaw the digging of three newshafts that produced at 10%
yield over any other shafts openduring this time.
When asked how he did it, hejust said the ground, spoke to
him and told him where to dig.

(59:45):
John didn't want to tell thewrong faces that he heard the
cries and screams of the realpeople, the right people, and
that is how he knew how to dig.
He knew what that would get him,and there was no way he was
going back to that hospital bed.
Each time John would get atunnel close to where he heard

(01:00:06):
the right people, they stopped.
He couldn't figure out why, butit happened.
At every tunnel he oversaw, theymust be moving them.
The wrong faces know I'm gettingclose and they move the right
faces just before I can rescuethem.
John knew this was true, butdidn't know what to do about it.

(01:00:27):
How could he get them to stopmoving the right people?
How could he bring an end to thewrong faces everywhere?
The solution was simple.
It had been a solution in thewar.
John would blow open everytunnel at the same time, nowhere
to hide, nowhere to move theright people anymore.

(01:00:48):
The right people would be freeand help John stop the wrong
faces.
John had moved out of hisfather's house a couple of years
back.
He couldn't trust that face,that wrong face, that imposter.
He had been stockpiling dynamitefor a year, and tonight was the
night he would free everyone andstop the wrong faces.

(01:01:09):
He had to because the cries andscreams had told them they were
dying, that they would leave himall alone if he didn't do it
tonight under the cover ofdarkness, with only a fingernail
moon to watch his actions, Johnmade his way to the benwood
mines.
Getting in was easy enough heknew the guard would be asleep,

(01:01:30):
and a wrong face is easy enoughto fool you.
Just smile and nod.
It took John five hours to setthe dynamite and run the line.
He was transported back to thetrenches and running cable for
the radios, the mud, thewetness, the smell of death and
rotten.
He made quick work of his taskand emerged from the entrance,

(01:01:52):
running the final length of hiscable, attaching it to the
plunger.
A bright light, blinded John fora second.
His night vision was shot tohell, but he could make out the
silhouette of the night guard.
No one can stop me.
No one can prevent me fromfreeing these people.
I brought my trench knife fromthe war.
I know what has to be done.

(01:02:12):
The guard can't stop me.
I've done this before.
Slide the blade between thefourth and fifth ribs upward
towards the throat.
Quick soundless.
Instant.
This guard is putting up more ofa struggle than I thought.
But if I sweep under his leg androll there on top, cover the
mouth with my hand and thrustthe knife there, that's done.

(01:02:34):
Why am I crying?
That's not the right face.
That's the face of my father.
Why is my father a night guard?
Why is he here?
He has the right face, but theguard was the wrong face.
Why is his face right?
John's father had began workingthe night guard position two
weeks prior.
He couldn't bear to see his sonin the ridicule that he faced

(01:02:57):
from the other miners.
John's father was also gettingolder and couldn't work in the
mine forever.
He knew John was up tosomething, could see him
sneaking things off the siteeach day, but he could never
have imagined what his son wasplanning.
He had tried to talk to his son,but each time it wasn't him.

(01:03:18):
It wasn't his son.
The war had done something.
The injury had done something,but there was nothing that he
could do as a father exceptwatch.
He heard something as the sonwas creeping over the mountains
investigating.
He was startled to see his sonthere with what?
A detonator.
He had to stop John.

(01:03:39):
He didn't know what John wasdoing, but he knew he had to
stop him as the blade slippedbetween the ribs.
He knew this wasn't his son.
This was the wrong face to be.
His sons.
His son's smile was never thatbig.
Monday, April 28th, 1924, 7:04AM I placed all the dynamite at

(01:04:06):
the ends of each tunnel.
I heard the voices.
They told me this was it.
I ran the cable far enough away,but I couldn't set it off before
the wrong faces got there.
I found my father.
He was lying next to me and thedetonator a wrong face must have
killed him.
I tried to save him.

(01:04:27):
That's why there's blood on myhands.
I'll get those wrong faces forwhat they have done.
I'll free everyone andeverything will be fine again.
Monday, April 28th, 1924, 7:05AM an explosion in benwood mines
ignited methane gas and coaldust.

(01:04:49):
All morning workers in the mineperished in the explosion.
119 Coal miners lost theirlives.
May 30th, 1924.
Weston State Hospital in Weston,West Virginia.
We have a new patient for youtoday.

(01:05:10):
This one was picked up over inMoundsville.
They apparently survived theexplosion.
Be prepared.
This is a weird one.
They keep saying that everyone'sface is wrong or sorry, still
wrong.
Please sign here and he's allyours clipped the officer
handing a form to Dr.
J g Petit, superintendent ofWeston State Hospital.

(01:05:34):
Oh, don't worry about usofficer.
We have plenty of beds andstrong restraints.

Speaker 2 (01:05:43):
I was not expecting a World War I mining psychological
thriller.

Speaker 1 (01:05:52):
It was, I like, I was thinking of this piece as like
the heroes, like it was an epicstory, like the way that old
school literature is writtenwhere it follows somebody's
life.

Speaker 2 (01:06:03):
Yes.

Speaker 1 (01:06:03):
It was a callback to that literary genre, which I
love.
I loved

Speaker 2 (01:06:09):
That.
This is, this is the BarryLinden of doppelganger stories.

Speaker 1 (01:06:13):
There you go.

Speaker 2 (01:06:14):
I loved it.

Speaker 1 (01:06:15):
Yeah,

Speaker 2 (01:06:16):
I mean, I even begins, this is not at all a
traditional doppelganger horrorstory.
No.
Uh, this was like until

Speaker 1 (01:06:24):
The end there gets a little, you know,

Speaker 2 (01:06:27):
Slightly more.
But this is more of like, Idon't know, somewhere between,
uh, ptsd d psychosis with almostlike face blindness and
schizophrenia mixed with, uh,just a whole heap in of good
storytelling

Speaker 1 (01:06:43):
Squarely within the psychological doppelganger
genre.

Speaker 2 (01:06:47):
And also Michael Kroa from the top ropes.
What a incredible performance.

Speaker 1 (01:06:53):
What does that mean from the top ropes?

Speaker 2 (01:06:55):
Uh, from the top ropes is like in wrestling when
someone, you know, climbs up onthe ropes and just like flies
across the ring and just likeelbow drops them or drop kicks
them or something.
It's a massive, massive hit.

Speaker 1 (01:07:09):
Yes, massively talented.

Speaker 2 (01:07:11):
It's impossible to ignore the impact that a hit
like that would make.
Okay.

Speaker 1 (01:07:17):
Gotcha.
I'm with you.

Speaker 2 (01:07:17):
Okay, great.
All is to say.
Michael Grossa did a great

Speaker 1 (01:07:21):
Job.
Great job.
Yes.
And of course Michael Kroa fromthe Jollyville Radio podcast,
but also he is a new podcast, mypart of town Chattanooga, and
it's so good.
I think the first, as the timethat this episode will be out,
the first episode is out, maybethe second.
Definitely check that out.
It's a very, very endearing andinteresting and sometimes

(01:07:45):
historical and sometimes heavyhitting podcast.
So far very different thanJollyville, but we love to see
range on someone.

Speaker 2 (01:07:53):
Uh, we love everything that Michael does, so
please check that out.

Speaker 1 (01:07:56):
Yes.
And again, Duncan Overton agreat, great story.
We're so grateful.

Speaker 2 (01:08:02):
I'm just, I'm, there's still so much to unpack
there.
I just, I wanna

Speaker 1 (01:08:06):
Yeah, these like big worlds that Duncan creates.
It's, it's never just like ashort standalone story.
It's this whole thing whereyou're like, this could be a
novel or this could be somethingmuch, much bigger.
We want more.
Yeah.

Speaker 2 (01:08:18):
And I love that he survived at the end.
The question is why is theresome supernatural element or is
he just really good at dad andexplosives?

Speaker 1 (01:08:27):
What do you think?

Speaker 2 (01:08:29):
Um, the more I think about it, probably he just
survived normally because he setthe explosives.
Mm-hmm.
, you know, heprobably wouldn't, he wasn't
trying to kill himself.
Right.
So he probably just blew it upin a way, you know, obviously it
got outta control because itignited some extra things like
the methane and the coal dust.
Uh, but he probably wasn't inlike the blast radius.

Speaker 1 (01:08:51):
There you go.

Speaker 2 (01:08:52):
Either.
But still there was so manyother, you know, unreliable
narrator, slightly supernaturalelements.
Who knows?
It could just all be psychosis.

Speaker 1 (01:09:01):
That's something we, we talked about a little bit
last episode, but probably notenough for the doppelganger
subgenre, which is theunreliable narrator piece,
especially when you're dealingwith psychological doppel
gangers.
And I think this story did sucha good job with that.
Mm-hmm.

Speaker 2 (01:09:15):
.
Oh, absolutely.

Speaker 1 (01:09:17):
Yeah.
That was so satisfying.
That was great.

Speaker 2 (01:09:21):
Uh, one thing, as soon as we started talking about
this was taking place in WorldWar I, it reminded me of a great
doppelganger film that we didn'ttouch on even once.

Speaker 1 (01:09:32):
Oh my gosh.
Okay.

Speaker 2 (01:09:33):
This is Jet Lee's the one.

Speaker 1 (01:09:36):
Oh, okay.
Tell me more.
I'm a big fan of Jet Lee.

Speaker 2 (01:09:40):
It is the, the pre So you have not seen this

Speaker 1 (01:09:43):
Movie?
I don't think so,

Speaker 2 (01:09:43):
No.
Okay.
The premise is that there's abunch, there's a certain number
of parallel universes and acertain Jet Lee has figured out
that he can travel to the othersand meet his alternate selves.
Hmm.
And when you kill one of yourduplicates, the remaining power,

(01:10:06):
if you will, gets divvied upbetween the remaining ones.
Interesting.
So if he goes to all thedifferent universes and kills
them all, he will become a GodWow.
And become the one,

Speaker 1 (01:10:18):
It's somewhat similar in some ways, not in every way
to everything everywhere, all atonce.

Speaker 2 (01:10:24):
Uh, well,

Speaker 1 (01:10:25):
We'll need a parallel timeline episode, I suppose, at
some point, right?

Speaker 2 (01:10:28):
Uh, sure, yeah.
I think the, the mostinteresting part for me about
this movie is not that there'slike the evil gently going
around killing everybody.
It's that we get to a pointwhere there's one remaining jet
lee against the good one.
Mm-hmm.
.
And that one remaining one isjust a, like a normal guy
.
He has no idea what's going on.
But again, the power getsdivvied up between all the

(01:10:50):
remaining ones.

Speaker 1 (01:10:50):
So he's just as powerful.

Speaker 2 (01:10:51):
Yeah.
So you have like a perfectlynormal guy that can, you know,
slap people around by throwingmotorcycles.

Speaker 1 (01:10:58):
.
God.

Speaker 2 (01:10:58):
Yeah.
It's cool.
I mean, it's an action movie.
Yeah.
But it's a great example of justlike the, the evil twin, but
with cool superhero aspect.

Speaker 1 (01:11:07):
Yeah.
Well, I feel like this was afitting end to our doppelganger
exploration.
I think all these three storiesdid such a great job at
illustrating the themes thatwe've been trying to kind of
pick apart in the last twoepisodes.

Speaker 2 (01:11:21):
Well, hang on.
Abby,

Speaker 1 (01:11:23):
Uh, Alan?
Yes.
Oh, what's happening?

Speaker 2 (01:11:25):
You have a fourth story in the folder.

Speaker 1 (01:11:28):
Uhoh.
What's happening?

Speaker 2 (01:11:29):
Um,

Speaker 1 (01:11:29):
What's happening, Alan?

Speaker 2 (01:11:32):
Should I just play it?

Speaker 1 (01:11:34):
What?
Well, I don't like acurve fall from you,

Speaker 2 (01:11:36):
.
Okay, I'll just play it.
Here we go.

Speaker 3 (01:11:43):
The broken girl by Alan, by

Speaker 8 (01:11:53):
A piercing light filtered through the bandages
into dry eyes.
She blinked away the sting asconsciousness began to flood
back.
Had she been sleeping with hereyes open.
She tried to remember if that'ssomething she did, but
everything felt so foggy likeshe was grasping at the edges of
a dream.
As it burned away, a numb andclumsy hand moved upward along

(01:12:15):
her side toward the bandage,covering her eyes.
She knew it was her own hand,but it still felt like that of a
stranger.
Doctor sensing elevated brainactivity and hand movement.
She rolled her head toward thevoice and the world rolled with
her.
As the room slowly stoppedspinning, she realized there was
now someone next to her.

(01:12:36):
She felt deaf hands removed thewrappings across her face, and
the light intensified a man'sface slowly racked into focus.
He wore thick glasses just likeher dad.
Can you tell me what your nameis?
Hazel.
She raed out her own voicesurprised her.
Did she always sound like that?

(01:12:57):
That's incredible.
The doctor's face radiated witha relieved sense of pride as he
scribbled down some notes.
You were in a hospital, therewas a car accident.
Do you remember that?
Do you remember the accident?
She took a bit to think aboutit, but her head was still
swimming.
She could picture being in thecar, sitting in the backseat

(01:13:18):
while her mom and dad chattedaway in the front.
But wait, that wasn't right.
Some logic pricked at her memoryin a way that only dreams can.
She was in the backseat and herdad's driver, Billy was in the
front.
She liked Billy.
He was driving her to school.
When?
Where's my mom and dad?
Are they okay?

(01:13:39):
Mr.
And Mrs.
Beckett are both perfectly fine.
They were not in the car at thetime.
She looked around her hospitalroom expecting to see another
bed with Billy all bandaged uptoo.
But there was only one bed andlots of confusing machines.
She looked around too fast andthe world began to tip once
again.
Easy there.
How do you feel?
Does anything hurt?

(01:14:01):
She took a few breaths to calmthe walls and then realized she
actually wasn't in much pain atall.
Her eyes stung and her body feltfloppy and stiff at the same
time.
But that's all.
Two summers ago, she broke herarm while climbing a camp, and
it had hurt so bad.
This felt very different.

(01:14:22):
I feel sort of weird.
The doctor smiled, his kindsmile.
Weird is okay.
You've been sedated for a while,like sleeping, so just keep
resting up.
Okay.
The doctor tapped some buttonson a machine next to her and
stood to leave a sudden warmthfloat into her arm from a tube
she had not noticed before.

(01:14:43):
The doctor opened the door toleave, but standing just outside
the door was her dad.
She tried to call out to him,but the medicine made her voice
a million miles away.
She locked eyes with her fatherfor just a moment before her
Dad's eyes darted away and thedoctor hurriedly closed the door
behind him.
She strained to listen to thesoft voices behind the door.

(01:15:04):
It sounded like her dad askedabout her, but it was so hard to
hear.
Why couldn't he just comeinside?
The doctor's excited voice gavea muffled reply of success,
something about wildly exceedingexpectations, and then the
medicine dragged her back downinto sleep.
When she opened her eyes again,the room was dark.

(01:15:25):
Various colored lights blinkedand pulsed from the machines,
but her attention was drawn tothe little frosted window in the
door.
It no longer glowed withsunlight.
She tried to sit up, but theworld again lurched.
She took a few breaths andslowly dipped her legs off the
bed.
Even though her feet didn'treach the floor, her joints gave
little pops.

(01:15:45):
As limbs began to move, hermuscles felt like numb putty.
But if she moved slowly enough,they seemed to do what she asked
of them.
Her arm caught on something andthen she remembered the tube
that made her sleep.
She pulled out a long needlethat on any other day, she knew
would totally freak her out, butshe needed to get out of there
and find her mom and dad.

(01:16:06):
She slid her small frame to thefloor and planted her feet
testing delicately to see if shecould stand.
This would be so much easier ifthe room would stop moving, she
thought, but was relieved whenshe didn't immediately crash the
ground.
She clutched machines andfurniture while clumsily making
her way toward the door.
She stumbled out into the darkhallway and slumped against a

(01:16:27):
wall.
As she took a moment, she againthought of the time she broke
her arm and became so gratefulthat she must not have broken
anything.
In the car crash.
She looked down the hallway.
One side was a ro of moon litwindows and the other, a series
of closed doors just like hers.
It seemingly went on forever,and the idea made her even more

(01:16:47):
dizzy.
She studied against one wall forsupport and began to walk.
Most rooms were totally dark ortheir doors were locked.
But after turning a corner, shesaw something just across a
corridor.
A door was slightly a jar with asoft, warm light spilling out.
Something about this room calledto her.
She willed her slow body towardit and gently pushed it open.

(01:17:10):
It was a room very similar toher own a single bed and various
machines.
But these machines seemeddifferent.
Before she could figure out whyshe noticed the figure in the
bed, a small girl lay wrapped inbandages.
Unlike her own though, thesebandages had lots of metal rods
poking out.
The girls' limbs were covered inglistening metal pins and her

(01:17:33):
neck was in some sort of cage.
Her gaze followed big tubesstarting in the girl's chest and
plugged into a device in thewall.
She took a step forward andlooked at the girl's face under
the clear mask that forced inair.
The face was a bruised andbroken mess.
A soft snoring in the cornergrabbed her attention.

(01:17:53):
She glanced over.
There was her mother sleeping inthis stranger's room.
Relief at finding her momflooded into her and she went to
her mom.
She said, gently shaking herawake.
Her mother stirred and looked upHazel.
Oh my God.
She sprung from her chair andwrapped her daughter in a hug.

(01:18:14):
Tears began streaming from hereyes.
We, we thought for sure the, thedoctors told us that you
wouldn't.
Her mom exclaimed While theyembraced, then her eyes landed
on the bed and the broken formthat still lay there.
Her mother froze, then let go,and took a step back.
She stared from girl to girlbefore a sickening recognition

(01:18:37):
overcame her.
She screamed with heartbrokenhorror Mom.
What's wrong?
She cried through tears of herown.
But suddenly the door flew openand a tall orderly burst into
the room.
He grabbed her and effortlesslydragged her backwards.
She called out for her mother,but her mom wouldn't even look
her in the eye.
Instead, she went to the brokengirl in the bed and collapsed

(01:18:59):
into sobs.
She was powerless to resist thelarge man, and soon she found
herself back in her own room.
The doctor with a kind smilestood waiting, but all the
kindness was gone.
The two men put her back intothe bed, but this time secured
her arms and legs down withheavy leather straps.
What's going on?

(01:19:20):
She cried.
Why won't you let me see my mom?
With no acknowledgement, thedoctor produced a large needle
and slipped it into her arm.
The familiar warmth began toflow in once more.
She cried in confusion andhopelessness.
She just wanted to go home.
Her eyes swept to the door andjust outside.
She saw her father.

(01:19:41):
She called out, but the man onlylooked away again and snapped a
harsh summons to the doctoroutside the room.
The two men spoke.
The medicine was alreadybeginning to take hold, and she
began to slip away.
While her father berated thedoctor, she fought with
everything she had just to stayconscious.
Uh, Mr.
Beckett, I assure you, thesedative should have lasted for

(01:20:03):
hours.
The fact that it metabolized soquickly is actually a wonderful
thing.
We've compensated and thereshould be no more surprises.
How's my daughter?
The father asked without oncelooking into the room, she's
doing marvelously.
The doctor beamed the lastultrasound indicates that the
puncture to her liver will beable to heal on its own.

(01:20:26):
So we should no longer require atransplant.
Overall.
She's been stable for over 24hours now, and her chances for
surviving a full heart and lungreplacement are currently as
good as I believe they will get.
Would you like for us to beginharvesting the clone for the
first time, her dad looked intothe room and locked eyes with
her.

(01:20:46):
His face was consumed with coldsadness and guilt.
Yes.
Her dad said through tight lips,please save my little girl.

Speaker 1 (01:20:58):
Holy cow.
I have so many questions and somany things to say.
First of all, that wasincredible.
I loved that story.
That was so good.
Rea did such a good job.
I have no idea of when you wrote, recorded and edited that

Speaker 2 (01:21:13):
I wrote that for you on Valentine's Day.

Speaker 1 (01:21:16):
Oh my God, that's so romantic.
On Valentine's Day, weren't youworking?
Yeah.
.
Wow.
In the How did you get the idea?
I thought that was so good.
And so the, the girl in the roomis the clone, right?

Speaker 2 (01:21:29):
The protagonist is the clone, right?
Yeah.
Yeah.

Speaker 1 (01:21:32):
What inspired you?

Speaker 2 (01:21:33):
I don't know.
I wanted just like, there's somany opportunities to have like,
like real good horror when itcomes to Dole gangers, and
there's nothing quite ashorrific as being grown to for
organ harvesting.

Speaker 1 (01:21:46):
Is this why you fought so hard in the last
episode for cloning to beincluded,

Speaker 2 (01:21:51):
Perhaps

Speaker 1 (01:21:52):
.
It all makes sense.
Oh my gosh.
I am blown away by all of this.
This was such a good story and Iwas so thoroughly

Speaker 2 (01:22:00):
Surprised.
Thank you.
Uh, you know, big, big thank youTeresa.
Teresa for this.
Yeah.
Uh, she and I hopped the storyextensively.
Aw.
Uh, she did all of my medicalfact checking for me.
That's so great.
So some fun facts about Risawhen I, you know, started, uh,
talking about this story withRisa, the, the original organ

(01:22:22):
harvesting was gonna be a fullheart and spine transplant.
But then when I was talking withRisa, she's like, well, you
can't actually do a full spinetransplant.
It's impossible and here's why.
And I'm like, how do you knowthis

Speaker 1 (01:22:36):
?
She's very smart.

Speaker 2 (01:22:37):
So after her eight years of medical school, yeah.
One of her jobs apparently, uh,was harvesting spines from
cadavers.
No.
So she's done quite a bit of,Theresa

Speaker 1 (01:22:48):
Has harvested spines from dead bodies

Speaker 2 (01:22:51):
Extensively.
What

Speaker 8 (01:22:53):
The?

Speaker 1 (01:22:55):
Rea.

Speaker 2 (01:22:55):
Yeah.
I was, I was a little curioushow that didn't come up myself.
But, you know, everyone has, hastheir, was their secrets.
Has their secrets.
I just thought that was aninteresting one.
One.
So yeah, Reese and I worked onthe story for a while.
Uh, just getting everythingready and I think it turned out
great.
Oh yeah.
I think she did a wonderful jobrecording.

Speaker 1 (01:23:13):
Yes.
Thank you so much, Risa.
Thank you.
A this was so fun.
I am very rarely surprised and Ifeel thoroughly surprised.
Great.
Oh, so good.
I'm still sort of in shock by,by this plot twist here at the
end of this episode.

Speaker 2 (01:23:27):
Yeah.
Well, I, you know, this, I justwanted to make sure you had a
good Valentine's Day present,

Speaker 1 (01:23:33):
Thank you.
Only a month, month later or so.
But thank you.
I appreciate

Speaker 2 (01:23:37):
It.
I mean, these things take

Speaker 1 (01:23:38):
Time.
You also made excellent cookieson Valentine's Day.
So I did.
As always, thank you so much toall of our writers, to all of
our narrators.
We could not do lunatics librarywithout everybody coming
together.
And it's so satisfying andfulfilling to see the, the, the
series and the deep dives thatwe do concluded in this way with

(01:23:58):
like real life examples, fromreal authors and narrators that
we can help support their work.
So thank you all so much.
This was such a fun one for us.
We are gonna be back next timewith something totally new as we
always do.
Until then, stay safe, stayspooky, and please, of course,
check the description of thisepisode to support and follow
all of the narrators and writersthat were featured in this

(01:24:20):
episode today.
Talk to you soon.
Bye bye.

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Lunatics Library 30 - Doppelgänger Horror Stories

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.css-14f5ked{margin:0;word-break:break-word;display:-webkit-box;-webkit-box-orient:vertical;box-orient:vertical;-webkit-line-clamp:2;overflow:hidden;}Lunatics Library 30 - Doppelgänger Horror Stories