He closed his lids to calm the whopping agony of jagged rocks inside his skull. Through the pain one question sprang to mind. Why of all the hallucinations, had that woman’s doppelgänger visited him? What the hell was she doing in that chair?

The prior events rushed into his mind in a gut-churning flash. The bookstore. Orelia Mason. Morris. Hiding behind the bookshelf. Her fawning fans. Falling. His heart attack.

Of course Orelia appeared to him now; she was all he thought about these days. How clever the way mirages could trick your mind. He could swear she was there, breathing, sitting in this room—wherever this room might be—as if she had every right to be there haunting him.

The vision’s stare made his skin prickle. Wow! Such a vivid illusion. He embraced the swarming feelings of fear and confusion because even a negative experience might prove useful for a story later.

The not-dying was a relief. The bring-his-enemy-down mission could continue because now he survived that encounter, he felt as if he could go another round.

He decided the Orelia Mason mirage was a positive message. Keep going, even while facing death. Go ahead and ruin her day. Live and fight.

Without processing them yet, events at the bookstore must have deeply wounded his psyche and confidence. This image had been constructed by his mind to remind him of his goals. He couldn’t chase Orelia around bookstores or the internet forever. He needed to change things up and soon.

“Okay, okay, I get the message,” he whispered, his eyes still squeezed shut. I’ll be fine. When I look again she’ll be gone, he silently promised himself.

He lifted his lids gently, carefully. The room glowed as if a setting sun had slid behind the chair making the figure’s face darken and distort.

William repeated the thought I’m okay. Be gone, as he blinked, squeezing his eyes closed for just a second.

When he looked over again, the figure remained. Still as a statue.

What the f…? Could this thing be real? How did that work?

No, not possible.

He wanted to pull up the sheets, cover his head and hide, but that wouldn’t help when the uninvited visitor was in his mind. He must be going mad. What would be worse? Her being there for real or losing his mind? Both made him feel a little dizzy.

When the apparition leaned forward he gasped. He gave his mind one more chance to lose the illusion as he blinked like the blonde girl in I Dream of Jeannie.

Blink the damn creature away, that’s what he’d do. If he couldn’t fight her in real life, he could darn well whip her ass in his mind.

“William, how do you feel? It’s me, Orelia.”

Blink. Blink. Blink.

“Can you talk?”

Blink. Blink. Blink.

Gah! The blinking didn’t work.

“Water? You want water?”

Oh God. Oh God. Oh, God-awful. Nightmare city was real!

Blink. Blink.

Another desperate Blink.

“William?”

The imposter rose, walked toward him and reached out to ...