Charlie’s imposter paced the floor, her anger seeming to have drained as quickly as it came. Charlie took the opportunity to look to John again, who had rolled partially onto his back, holding his side as though in immense pain, his face still red. He needs help.

“What are you?” Charlie growled, her anger rising at the sight of John.

“The question isn’t what am I. It’s what are you? And what makes you so special, over and over again?” Charlie’s duplicate approached her with renewed anger, grabbing Charlie by the throat once more and lifting her off the ground. She pinned her to the wall, baring all her teeth.

The ruse of Charlie’s imposter faded, revealing a painted clown face, somehow looking angrier than the human facade. The white plates of the face opened like a flower, revealing yet another face, made of coils and wires, with bare black eyes and jagged prongs for teeth. Her real face, Charlie thought.

“Ask again,” she growled.

“What?” Charlie choked.

“I said ask me again,” the metal monster snarled.

“What are you?” Charlie whimpered.

“I told you, that’s not the right question.” The metal girl held Charlie out at a distance and looked her up and down. “Where did he hide it?” She held Charlie’s throat with one hand and put her other hand on Charlie’s chest, then ran a finger down the length of her breastbone. Then her eyes shot to Charlie’s face, and she grabbed her chin and turned her head forcefully to the side. She seemed lost in thought for only a moment then snapped back. “Ask again.”

Charlie locked eyes with the metal face. The face plates closed over the tangle of twisted metal, reassembling the face of the clown, with her rosy cheeks and glossy lips. Soon the illusion returned, and Charlie was staring into her own eyes again. Charlie felt herself growing uncannily calm as she began to realize what the right question was.

“What am I?”

The imposter loosened her grip, and lowered Charlie so that her feet touched the ground. “You are nothing, Charlie,” the imposter said. “You look at me and you see a soulless monster; how ironic. How twisted. How backward.” She let go of Charlie’s throat and took a step back, her red lips losing their savor for the moment. “How unfair.”

Charlie was on her knees again, struggling to regain her strength. The imposter approached her and knelt with her, placing her hand over Charlie’s. “I’m not sure how this will work, but let’s give it a try,” she whispered, running her fingers through Charlie’s hair and firmly grasping the back of her neck.