A drop here, a drop there (a one-shots/snippet book)

Red Hands, Red Heart (WtNV)

Cecil whipped around, startled, and Dana stopped dead.

Cecil... he was not Cecil.

The man was not tall or short. Not thin or fat. He certainly had Cecil's hair and facial features.

But his eyes were missing, leaving empty eye sockets that seemed impossibly endless in its blackness. A half-healing wound carved through his cheeks in a sickly Gaslow smile, stitches neatly keeping the cut tissues together. He wore a vest and a yellow tie, and Dana knew Cecil wasn't wearing that this morning.

More importantly, blood covered his clothes, some splattered on his face and hair, and a knife handle peeked out from his lower back.

His grin widened almost unnaturally at the sight of her, eyes crinkling and blood streaking down his jaw at the motion. His teeth were sharpened to a point.

"Vanessa!" He exclaimed, surprised but pleased. No, excited. His voice was higher than Cecil's, lighter, like sunlight instead of Cecil's night. "You're here! Oh, what a wonderful surprise!" He clasped his hands together against his chest, seemingly overcome with happiness.

Dana swallowed nervously. "I'm sorry, but I'm not Vanessa. What's your name?" She asked politely even as she pushed down the urge to demand where Cecil is, because it doesn't hurt to be polite. Also, he had a knife.

He giggled. "Oh, you're such a kidder, Vanessa. I didn't notice you follow me in, you should've said something!"

"I'm not Vanessa," she insisted, "I'm Dana."

The Cecil look-alike blinked and tilted his head, brows furrowing slightly in confusion, but his smile only shrank minutely. He stepped closer, making Dana step back and raise her arms slightly in preparation for a fight.

"Oh," He said after a moment of tense silence. Tense on Dana's side, that is. He was completely relaxed, curious interest clear on his body language and facial expression as he examined her with nonexistent eyes. "Oh."

"You're her double," He said in awe as he straightened, eyes widened in wonder. "Dana...was it?"

"Yes..." She thought of the body newly buried in the break room and wondered whether that was Vanessa. Remorse started to crawl through her chest and lodged in her throat, the choking heaviness making it hard to look at him directly. She moved her gaze over his shoulder, at the humming vortex behind him.

"Oh my, it's nice to meet you! My name is Kevin, and I'm a radio host. You look so much like my intern, I mistook you for her! Sorry!" He giggled.

Kevin stepped even nearer for a closer look, the scent of blood clinging on him became even stronger at the proximity. "Though, her hair was longer than yours, if I remember correctly," He commented.

"Oh, good to know," She managed through the rush of relief. The one that she... the one that died had the same hair length as hers, an exact copy... or was she the exact copy?

It doesn't seem like a fight was about to happen, despite his blood-soaked clothes and the bloody footprints he left on the carpet. So it was with a small amount of relief that she hesitantly dropped her arms, but kept her eyes on guard for any threatening movement.

He beamed at her. "It's like me and that man on the photo there! I wish I can meet him, and I'm sure Vanessa would've loved to meet you, too. It's too bad..."