Mirror Mirror [TUWSA Winner June 2014]

Chapter 9- Timothy McGregor

Chapter 9- Timothy McGregor

DeClark’s Residence. 6 PM.

       “I’m going to get Naomi,” Matt informed his brother, James. James just waved him off. He was preoccupied. James was sitting at his mahogany desk looking at the blue photo album Amber had made him for their one-year anniversary. It had pictures with cute captions written in her neat, flowy handwriting. He couldn’t help but break out into a small smile when he saw her giggling face and her frizzy red hair. Her always playful, sparkling green eyes reminded him of spring; so beautiful and full of new life. He slowly flipped through the pages, wishing that Amber could be right there with him. When he was worried, she had this way of knowing exactly what to say and how to comfort him. It was something no one else could do.

         He closed the album and opened the window for some fresh air. He was surprised to be greeted by a face that looked exactly like his own.

         The only difference was that this face contorted into a sinister lopsided smirk. The figure swiftly climbed into the room and before James could make sense of what was going on, he was face to face with the figure that looked exactly like him.

          James blinked a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming or going crazy.

         The figure laughed a dark, sinister laugh. “Yes, I’m really here,” the figure announced. His voice sounded so much like James’; just a little deeper.

         “How is this possible?” James asked, peering into the figure’s beady eyes.

         “God, you’re stupid. We’re identical twins!” the figure spat.

       Now it was James’ turn to laugh. His laugh was friendly, inviting almost. “OK, you’re crazy. My twin brother died at birth.” He ran his hand through his dark brown hair.

           The figure’s smirk became bitter. “No, a nurse told your parents I was dead, so that she could sell me to some rich family who couldn’t conceive.”

          James sat back down in the chair. “Who are yo-“

        Before James could finish his sentence, the figure hit him upside the head with his trusty pistol that he had pulled out of his pocket. “Lights out, brother dear,” he said as he turned off all the lights in the room. “I used to be Timothy McGregor, but I think I’ll continue being James DeClark,” he smirked. He pocketed James’ car keys that had been sitting on the desk. "I like it a lot better."

            He bound James’ hands and legs together with the rope he had left on the ledge outside the window, before carrying James’ unconscious body outside. He strapped James in the backseat of James’ black sedan. He drove to a remote graveyard just outside of the city of Mayview. The graveyard was hidden by a dense forest, which kept it from wanderers or curious passerbys. There, a grave had been dug for a funeral that was to be held in a few days. He had already had some of his business partners dig the grave even further, so that he could hide something beneath it.

           James started coming to. He was groaning.

         “Oh shut up! I didn’t even draw blood,” Timothy snapped. “Fred, George, help me get him out, he’s awake.”

          A skinny guy that looked about 20, who had a cigarette sticking out of his mouth, put down a bag before trudging over and grabbing one of James’ arms, while a burly one, with overly gelled black hair grabbed the other.

       They took him to a grave, which seemed to have a small pit within it. It looked like it had been freshly dug. There were two wooden ladders leading down into the dark hole.

        “What are you doing?” James asked, his eyes widening in fear as he realized that something was amiss.

        Both men got onto the ladder before Timothy helped them lower the struggling James into the grave.

        “No! I don’t want to die! Stop!” James kicked and screamed in vain as they took him closer and closer to his deathbed.

          Timothy gleefully looked down from overhead.

          Fred and George carefully laid James down into the small pit. They looked up at their boss whose figure was outlined by the dull moonlight, before lifting their shovels to bury James and his screams for mercy. Somewhere an owl was hooting an unheeded warning.

          James’ screams became fainter and fainter as more and more soil was piled over him.

        “That must be the worst way to die,” Timothy remarked indifferently. It almost seemed as if James screams had been music to his ears. He opened a bottle of Vodka that George had brought for him per his request, and drank some. He held the bottle and poured some on the ladders.

          By this point, James’ muffled screams were no more.

         “Do you want some?” Timothy offered.

       George, the skinny one, eyed Timothy warily, but Fred, the burly one nodded and Timothy poured the Vodka down into his open mouth.

         “It’s done,” George said, getting impatient. He made his way towards the ladder.

         Timothy smirked, “And so are you,” as he lit the ladders on fire. He pushed the ladders into the pit and threw in the bottle of Vodka. A thick cloud of grey smoke floated up with Fred and George’ desperate cries.He took out some lighter fluid from the bag that George had put down and poured it into the grave.

        Timothy closed his eyes as he listened to their distressed shrieks. He soaked them in as if they were music. He sighed calmly. “Correction. That must be the worst way to die.”

        He got started on burying them in their grave. The stench of burnt flesh filled the air, but it didn’t seem to bother Timothy one bit.

         When he was finished, he took the tombstone Fred and George had brought with them. It read: In loving memory of Timothy McGregor. Loving and beloved son. He adorned his work with three black roses. He admired his work for a moment, before taking out a slightly crumpled picture of a smiling girl with auburn hair and chocolate brown eyes. He gently stroked her cheek with his thumb.

          "For you, my love," he whispered, gazing at the picture.

DeClark’s Residence. 9:25 PM.

           “James! Where have you been?” Matt asked as James strolled through the door.

           “Sorry, I couldn’t stand to be in the house anymore,” he replied.

           Little did Matt know that his brother James was no more.