“Come on,” the other Charlie said, holding out her hand, and Charlie started to reach out to her, then stopped herself, yanking her hand away. She shrank away, stumbling back across the hall and her duplicate closed the distance between them, leaning in so close Charlie should have felt her breathing. A long moment passed, but the other Charlie did not draw breath. “You need to come with me,” she said. “Father wants us to come home.” Charlie startled at the phrase.

“My father is dead,” she said. She pressed back against the wall, as far from the girl’s face as she could get.

“Well, would you like to have a live one?” the other Charlie asked, with a mocking edge.

“There is nothing that you can give me, and certainly not that,” Charlie said shakily, inching backward into the storage room; the duplicate followed her step for step. Charlie glanced past the duplicate and into the open bedroom door; John emerged into the hallway, leaning heavily on the doorframe and gripping his side.

“Are you okay, Charlie?” he asked in a low, steady voice.

“Oh, I’m just fine, John!” Charlie’s duplicate said cheerfully.

“Charlie?” John repeated, ignoring her. Charlie nodded, not daring to take her eyes off the imposter.

“She says Father wants us to come home,” Charlie said.

John stepped up behind the other Charlie.

“Father? Would that be William Afton?” John demanded. He took a few sprinted steps and grabbed a lamp by its base, raising it for attack. The other Charlie smiled again, then swiftly raised her arm and backhanded John across the face. He dropped the lamp and staggered backward, catching himself against the wall, and the duplicate grabbed for Charlie’s hand. Charlie ducked away, running for the hallway with the girl on her heels.

“Hey! That was just round one!” John shouted, beckoning his assailant to come back. He grabbed the duplicate girl’s arm, yanking her back toward him and away from where Charlie had run. The duplicate allowed John to hold her close, not resisting. John was washed with fear as he stood eye-to-eye with the imposter. Now what do I do?

“Just like by the old oak tree when we were little, John,” the duplicate whispered. She pulled him close and pressed her lips against his. His eyes widened, and he tried to push her away, but he could not move. When she finally released him and pulled back, she was Charlie, his Charlie, and there was a high, painful ringing in his ears. He covered his ears, but the ringing increased exponentially, and for the few brief seconds before he collapsed to the ground, he saw her face morph into a thousand things. The room spun, and his head hit the ground with a crack.

*  *  *