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Twin’s Gunn.

3 min readJul 11, 2026

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A midnight call is always bad. I reimbursed this idea when my phone had rung, firstly in soft embers and violent, effectful tremors. A lightning’s glare flashed my nervous face, and I had to squint to respond. I understood how my hands felt moist, and my phone, slippery. The room felt sultry, counter in a chilly usual room with a ton of ac.
It was my friend. John was the quietest of the bunch. The cornerstone of our building. He had held us together in the wildest memories. Hence, I dreaded ever so much.

“What?…. Any.. thing bad?”

“Yes. (scoffs) Who the fuck are you?”

It was over. The end. My throat dropped, my heart saw exit. However I managed and mustered a line,

“Ar..ar..are yo..u sure? I am Myself.”

“I know.”

What the fuck was going on?. John never messed with me. Had the gang committed to my scare?.
I started with a laugh and then said, “Messing with me, in this economy, dude?. Let’s stop it. Gotta sleep man. ( I played with my hands, supporting my articulation against and to yester scare on my nerves, in the dark silent room.) tell the people you got me!. Ok. ( I yawned.)”

I ended the call, and went back to bed. However the phone lit up not sooner.

“Heeey…!, dude what?!”

“Are you sure its you, cuz YOU are threatening to kill yourself just outside in the street.”

“Wha..t? No.”

“Send me a photo of yourself, right now wherever you are.”

“Yes.., but how do you know it’s me outside, I am me right now”

“I don’t know… mate, incredibly convincing, got a weird twin you’ve never told about? — WAIT!! He wants to talk to you.”

I had just sent him my face, and that even without turning on the light, the phone screen lit me.
Unbeknownst to nobody, John trusted me.

“Oooiii, Let ME talk!, open the damn fucking dooooor” a far little voice in the back.

“Do what but don’t open the door, John, listening to me, are you?, call the police. Something is not right.” I said, looking at a picture in the chats, and dismissed for a former picture of mine when the time tag blew my brains out. The said person was incredibly like me, though a gun hid in outpouring levels, in the tuck of his outfit.
The phone suddenly shouted heavy thumps, one after another and my heart only added to it.
“Man, AAAAH!! (muffle) Man, he has shot at the door, are you kidding me! What is this?”

“Ok. ok. Give him the phone. Throw it. I’ll do what I can. God help us!.”

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The phone gave out all sorts of muffled noises, as a tentative wheeze broke to quick thud.

“Hello.” A voice reached for me, from the phone I had held in my hand, that I clutched with so hard that my knuckles shone white. I felt cathartic, even for a second. The life I knew was the muzzle, that was my life force. I did not know what I was anymore, had been. I was convinced myself. I was the fake one. God save him. However, all my life’s worth memories spat back at me, challenging me to fight for life. I relaxed the grip, and initialized a meek voice from my chords.

“Do you really wanna kill yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Who’s yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s mee–”

A LOUD BANG!!

My head spun, and I suddenly opened my eyes. It was all a dream!. I felt cathartic once again. One resilient idiotic dream.
I searched and shuffled amongst the sundry things on the bedtable, and groped to find my phone. The time was just over midnight, and thankfully no call was made or missed. I placed it back, and closed my eyes away from a far reality.

(I had been starting to think a bit on the other guy in the dream, I felt something was wrong, I would not kill myself if he were I).

There was a clink, like the sound of a metal rattle, a spur.

— However, after being freshly unslept he opened his eyes again, and pointed the phone at me.

Alerted, I pointed the gun at him, and hoped this would all go soon and smoothly.

Alerted, I slowly opened my eyes for a black figure stood in a dark corner.

The brightness of it was sure to shine a face back at him.

I held my phone immediately, as the brightness of it shone a face looking back at me, as well as a muzzle.

He sure had realized we looked incredibly alike, we were one, and the gun was for him.

We looked incredibly alik —

The end.

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