Short Story Horror; Invasion of The Evil Twins

Invasion of The Evil Twins

c1970 Inoculation

The babies were all lined up carried in the arms of chatting mothers. Each woman held their child over her shoulder or coddles them in folded elbow nooks. The government issued vaccination orders and it was marketed to the public from the Health and Safety Board. Some babies cried in protest of the wait and were promptly bounced up and down in response with assuring 'shhhhh' sounds. Some babies gave surprised facial expression when pricked with the needle. This was often followed by a bursting howling cry that meant 'Momma! Betrayal!' It is a grand scene of adorable. Burton Cummings music played in the background of the community hall and impossibly accompanied the sounds of metal chairs scraping linoleum floors and the décor of fabric cubicle dividers providing the false sense of individual attention.

“God bless our future” said the mother next to Joanne.

“God bless them.” replied Susanna.

1984

She dances in front of the mirror with her hair brush microphone. The mirror is full length and she can see her entire self in it. They bought it from the extra large new box store opened in the west part of town. She has a record spinning on the turn table and it plays Girls Just Wanna Have Fu-un. ♫
Her hair is side-ways and she chooses bright green neon fishnet stockings to match her knee length black pants. She has plans for roller skating on Friday night and wants to be ready for the disco lime light. Maybe she will even get a snowball dance with Jamie in his super tight jeans. She reaches for her make up bag and flops on the bed. Lying on her back she knows that she can only imagine the scene: He (so cute!) skates over to her and says 'hey'. He flips his white blond hair and she says 'hey' back.

“Roxanne! Get up. You have to get to class already!”

Her daydream crumbles and she gets up.

“Mother I know that!” she shouts in an indignant reply.

“Stupid school,” she mutters as she grabs her bags and rushes out the door.

There is a new girl at the high school. She looks a lot like Roxanne and even acts the same in so many ways. Roxanne is suspicious and doesn't get a good feeling about her but all the girls want to make friends.

“Roxanne. What is your PROBLEM?” asks Marianne.

“Yeah Roxy. Too much heat with the new girl? Come on... she reminds me of you and everything. How bad can she be?”

“You should stop talking with food in your mouth Beth! I can take it. It's just something about it gives me the creeps!”

“-What about Friday?” Roxanne asks to avert the subject. “Thinking about SKATING?”

The girls all start to laugh and find their lockers.

Sabotage 1998

Roxanne meets Diana at several places now. Diana has a habit of appearing out of nowhere and attends the same events. Roxanne's boyfriend has a similar acquaintance. His name is Peter and he arrives in much the same manner. Peter has even taken opportunity to make a pass or two at Roxanne. Events are plagued with the arrival of one or the other.

Roxanne's boss is fuming this morning. As she places her bag on her center office desk and looks up she sees him marching straight towards her.

“Where on earth have you been and why is my report covered in coffee?” he demands.

“It's nine o'clock.” say Roxanne. “I'm on time.”

“No. It is not nine o'clock. It's currently ten in this time zone. Explain the coffee Roxy. What the hell is going on around here? Everybody's got a case of the god damn crazies it would seem!”

Mr. Elgin slams the wet report on her desks and walks off to his glass encased room.

Roxanne is stumped. She sits down in her chair and stares into space. All she can see is one big imaginary question mark.

Dailin has a similar view of his day. The trucks full of fresh turkey never arrive at their destination. Four thousand people are wondering what to make for dinner. The golf course chef is blasting the telephone answering machine. He clicks on the small black and white television to see if anything out of the ordinary will answer his problem. “Breaking news,” says the reporter. Almost on cue, he thinks. Even with the volume shut off Dailin knows exactly what he is about to be told.

Round Up

One by one the twins are identified. The transport trucks are no longer filled with turkeys or cattle or livestock of any kind. There is a howl from the highways that lasts from Alabama to the swamps of the Northern lights. The clones are classified by DNA markers first stolen from the babies who complained in their mothers arms as swaddling blankets were adjusted around them decades ago. The ground crews wear radiation proof white suits to stave off the reactor's damaging waves. They march through the open pit that resembles a roman stadium as they silently take care.