Catelyn Winona
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Dimension Hopping (2nd person flash fiction)
🕑 Added 2022-11-26 18:52:08 +0000 UTCBased off this prompt: A portal opens before you and out steps a version of yourself covered in blood. “I’ve killed hundreds of you and they say you’re the strongest one. Time to find out why.”
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Here's the flash fiction piece for the weekend! I love these sort of dialogue heavy flash fiction pieces.
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A portal opens before you and out steps a version of yourself covered in blood. “I’ve killed hundreds of you and they say you’re the strongest one. Time to find out why.”
“I’m sorry,” you say. You set down your fork and carefully dab at your mouth with your napkin. The other you is very blood-covered. It’s put you off your shepherd’s pie almost instantly. “How many of us did you say you killed?”
“Hundreds of you,” the other you corrects. They fold their well-muscled arms and smirk. “I’m me. Out of all the different iterations, I’m the only true individual. Obviously.”
“Congrats,” you say. You lean back in your chair. The portal they stepped through is spinning closed, leaving only your empty apartment and this other you behind. It’s a good thing your roommate is gone for the holidays. “Good for you. So if you’re the only individual, why did you feel the need to kill hundreds of different versions of not-you?”
“To prove it,” the other you says. They frown, eyes raking over your relaxed shoulders and impassive expression. “You’re…not afraid?”
“Were the others afraid?”
“Yes,” the other you says, hissing the word. Their smile is dark as they pull a knife from the back of their waistband. “Especially at this point.”
You eye the knife. It’s very long and wicked looking. “Maybe I am afraid.” You’re not. You lean forward, pushing away your dinner plate so you can fold your hands on the table. “I’m still stuck on why you killed so many of us - I mean, me.“
“They were imitations,” they say.
“Yes, yes,” you say, waving your hand. “I understand your reasoning. I just don’t understand how you could kill hundreds and still not understand that you’re wrong.”
The other you opens and closes their mouth for a moment. “I— I’m proving my existence. The rest are imitations. Once I kill all of us - I mean, you, then my hypothesis will be proven correct.”
“Your hypothesis that you’re the only real individual.”
“Exactly.”
“Look, kid,” you say with a sigh. You gesture to where the portal was. “You think you’re special with that thing? You think you’re the only one that can portal to other dimensions?”
They glance over their shoulder and then back to you. It apparently has not occurred to them. “I— yes. I’m the only one I’ve ever seen…”
“Because you’re the only one who apparently needs to kill hundreds of us to understand,” you say, irritated. The more you think about it, the more irritated you get. “Hundreds? Really? Is this the longest conversation you’ve had with one of us? Or did you just ask them ‘who’s the strongest?’ And then knife them before they really answered?”
“Um,” they say.
“You stupid infant,” you say with genuine disgust.
They glare at you. “We’re the same age.”
“This is infant us behavior,” you say. You rub a hand over your face. “Us, me, we, whatever. We’re all very similar iterations of the same person. All of us go through this phase of killing all of our clones off to prove existence.”
“I don’t think we’re clones,” they say. They shift their weight from side to side. “You- you’re imitations. Not real.”
“Imitations, clones, whatever,” you say. “It’s like puberty to us. And of every one of us who’s walked through a portal and into my dimension, you’re the only one who’s made it to triple digits before getting the hint.”
They gape at you. The knife they’ve been pointing at you dips towards the floor. “What— what do you—“
“The hint that it doesn’t matter,” you say. “You won’t ever be able to take out every single one of us. There are too many dimensions and alternate realities - yes, they’re different, don’t interrupt - for that to be possible. And if you could, so what? Say you’re right and we’re imitations, what does killing each other do? If you kill me, do you plan to stay in my universe?”
“No, I—“
“Then why bother doing it?!” You’re raising your voice. You clear your throat and make a conscious effort to unclench your fists. “The only thing you accomplish by killing me here and now is opening up a space in my universe for someone who looks like me. Other than that? I don’t have anything to do with your dimension. I don’t influence your life whatsoever. The only reason you’re here is because you think there’s some great cosmic balance that interlocks all of us and we can’t be freed from unless only one of us remains.”
“But there is,” they say. Their voice is tinged with panic. “No, there is because when I asked who the strongest is, they all said you which means they too sensed we are connected—“
“You idiot,” you say with feeling. “They all said I’m the strongest because I’m the only one of us who made the stupid mistake of becoming immortal.”
There’s a beat of silence. “What?”
You wave your hand. “Long story. I was making my portal and ended up in a freak accident…it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m not the strongest. I’m the only one who can’t be killed.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “They probably all sent you to me since I’m the only one who’ll survive your attack to tell you what an idiot you are.”
“That’s not— you’re not—,” the other you stutters. They take a step back from your table. “I’m very confused.”
“No, you’re panicking,” you say. You finally stand. “Look, it can be overwhelming, I know. You find out infinite versions of yourself exist. You have an existential crisis, you freak out, you kill a bunch of people who look like you. We’ve all been there. But now it’s time to grow up and admit the truth. None of this matters, we’re not connected beyond the superficial, and there is no real one of us. We are all equally real in our universes.” You pause. “Honestly, you’re probably less real here than I am. This is my universe. You’re just visiting.”
“I don’t…I can’t…” They press a hand to their head. “I need to think about this.”
“Take all the time you need,” you say. You fold your arms. You’re not as muscular as they are, but there’s some muscle in your forearms that you don’t think looks too bad. “You want to stay the night?”
“No, no,” they say. They pull their portal device from their back pocket. “I just— I’ll go back to my dimension to think. There’s—well. If you’re lying, I’ll be back. Obviously.”
You roll your eyes. “Back to kill the immortal version of yourself? Your call, I guess. Just know that it’d be futile and really, really sad.”
“That’s true, I guess,” they say weakly. “I’m just going to…” They push the button and step through their portal before you can say another word.
You wait until the last of their portal glow fades to collapse back in your chair. You gasp for breath. That was close. That was way too fucking close.
You pull out your inter-dimensional phone and dial the only number in its contacts.
“You’re an ass,” you say with feeling.
Another you very far away snorts. They know exactly what you’re talking about. “I wasn’t going to get near them! They killed hundreds!”
“They nearly killed me,” you say. It’s been a long time since someone managed to pull a weapon on you.
“They buy the immortal line?”
“Obviously,” you say, irritated. “Look, they’re back in their dimension now. Seal it before that lunatic comes back to call my bluff.”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” The other you pauses. “Seriously, why does the immortal thing work out for you so well?”
“I’m very persuasive,” you say.
“That is your strong point.”
Thank god for that.
