webnovel

The Doppelganger

In a world where interdimensional travel opens gateways to parallel Earths, Kopi, a teenage boy, grapples with an unusual predicament. Unlike others, he lacks an affinity for orgone, the life force fueling supernatural abilities. As chaos befalls his home Earth, Kopi makes a desperate escape to the central hub, the main Earth. There, a fateful encounter with his doppelganger leads to an unexpected twist of destiny. Their two bodies merge, intertwining their existence and setting Kopi on a unique path amidst the complex tapestry of interdimensional intricacies. As he navigates this uncharted territory, the merging of selves becomes the key to unravelling his own profound journey. ------------------ Discord: https://discord.gg/2TnjUjQq7K Patreon: patreon.com/TheWorkOfNitrous ------------------ Cover art is AI generated and is acting as a placeholder until I get an actual one.

Nitrous · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
3 Chs

Prologue(2)

THUD!

Closing the door, I once more entered Hell. Maybe that's why everyone hates me. I'm the Devil.

"Kōpi, come here," Pops said, signaling for me to walk to him.

As I walked past a fair few of counters, I made my way to him in the kitchen, where I discovered his eyes affixed to his only love beyond the window.

There were many things within the house, but none captured Pops' attention. Rather, his interest lay in the back of our house, on the vast expanse of land extending for hundreds of acres in the distance, under the watchful eyes of the heavens.

'The fields will be plowed soon.'

"Have you taken the test yet?"

Can't say I'm surprised. I mean, he doesn't even bother to ask me why I've brought a puddle into the house, my hair similar to that of a wet dog, struggling to see through my raven-black hair.

"I haven't, no."

Instead of responding, he simply groaned, his face looking sour as if he just tasted something that made his face twist.

"I'll take it another time."

"Next time."

"Maybe…"

I couldn't hear what, but he ushered something under his breath. Probably calling me an idiot.

After a few seconds passed, Pops took a sip of coffee, and exited the back door.

'Nothing more to say, huh?'

Luckily for me, he left right before my stomach commanded me for food. And I obliged.

Crouching down, I opened the fridge. No milk.

What else did I expect?

As if I could ever ask for a good meal in Hell. "Toast it is."

Having acquired my toast, I headed upstairs. From the moment you walk up the stairs, there's two hallways, the left which has one door, and the right which has two doors. Mine is the farthest on the right.

My room can be called many things. Although, the most apparent answer would be that it's open.

In the far right corner of the room, a bunk bed bordered next to a three foot tall dresser facing the door. In the far left corner, a tv which stood on the wall. And in the nearby corner, nothing. An empty space that sometimes gets occupied by small bags of trash.

I've long had the bunk bed. Ever since I was a kid, actually. Since Andrew and I were kids.

Turning my head, I peered at the time I read on the clock, muttering, "jeez. Didn't realize how long I was out for."

10:35 PM

*******

7:00 AM

The little alarm clock, sat on the dark brown dresser, began to ring. It was akin to an alarm, and a blaring repeat continued to bounce off of the walls. 

'I woke up.' I thought, a sigh following. 

Throwing my blanket off me, I walked toward where the alarm always was and shut it off. After I smacked it across the top, it gave one last shout before going silent. Trying to give my tired eyes some light, I walked over to the bedroom door and turned the switch on.

The light glared, and it stung my sigh. The rays even burned through my vision. Closing my eyelids, I painfully smiled. 

'Even my eyes are weak.'

Walking over to the closet, I blinked a few more times, and my eyes stung less when I opened them clearly.

"Uniform…uniform…" I tirelessly murmured.

It's always hung up on my coat racks. Yet, for whatever reason, I couldn't see it.

The assortments of bright clothes should make it obvious. There are so many different color shirts, and pants; on the top shelf, there are several hats. Everything is neatly organized, yet despite how easy anything would have been to find, I could not grasp what I needed most. 

Too tired to look, I wiped my eyes and exited the room, entering the one straight across from mine.

The door loudly creaked, urging me, begging me to not enter.

However, I didn't listen.

Carefully navigating the room, I made my way to the closet's two wooden doors. Gripping the left door's side, I slid it to the right.

As I reached into the closet, my fingers closed around what I was after - my brother's uniform. I carefully removed any dust and then draped it over my arms. 

"A bit of a loose fit…but it should do."

Now that I no longer needed to blink and could see clearly, I went back to my room, the windows, which were covered in curtains, now shined.

As I came back into my space, I noticed now that my uniform was crumpled and on the floor.

"Damn it."

Pops would probably not iron this, and I simply don't know how. 

Thinking of my older brother, Andrew, I couldn't help but laugh.

He had refused to learn, but he had tried once, only to end up with a scolding for his burned hand after he moved a finger a little too close to the metal unknowingly. He nearly slapped pops, but he held his bitter tongue. Since then, pops never let us try again.

Picking it up, I tried to smooth out some wrinkles. The uniform was a dark blue button-up shirt with the logo of my school on it. Throwing it on the bed, I went to fetch the black pants from my wardrobe that paired with the shirt, also making sure to grab my tie and shoes.

Once I had everything on, I went downstairs, the noise alerting pops of my coming. "Looks like you're gonna be late again." He took a sip of his coffee.

"Sorry, I forgot to switch the alarm back to six."

"Part of me wonders," he began, newspaper in hand. "For what good reason did I pick you and your brother up from that damn step?"

Years ago, this statement would cause an outrage in me. I'd curse at him, sometimes even wishing I could charge at him. Never did though.

"I'll get out your hair, then." I mentioned, reaching for my backpack, the fabric still moist. 

"Wait," the old man said, halting my steps. Flicking through the newspaper, he stopped on one of the earlier pages. "Did you hear that some kids from your school are missing?"

"What're the names?"

Another sip of the coffee, "don't know. School ain't saying." He responded.

Knowing there was no more to say, I gave a wave of farewell to pops, departing with a calm expression.

At least, I wish I did.

The flavor of steel invaded my mouth, and a surge of crimson flowed from my lips, amidst the cacophonous clattering of my teeth.

Pops had a tendency to forget, but with my car, I'm practically never late. 

"You're the only good thing I seem to have." I shamelessly admitted, a warm smile gradually spreading across my face.

My car, a 1992 Chevrolet Camaro, is a true marvel. Despite her mileage exceeding two hundred thousand, she never ceases to impress. Her pristine white paint shows not a single flaw, and the hot rod ar105 rims magnificently reflect every glimmer of light. 

As I placed my backpack in the passenger seat, I began to feel droplets hit my head. "Again?" I questioned, looking up.

Not wanting to make the same mistake, I went back inside and quickly grabbed the closest umbrella.

The moment I stepped outside again, I noticed that the phenomenon was once more happening.

The tears didn't glisten with clarity; instead, they descended with the vivid hues of a rainbow, much like a leprechaun hitting the jackpot.

"…"

I cupped my hands, as if beseeching the Gods for their blessing, hoping one of their tears would fall upon me.

"Damn it. Just once, please."

************

The building is polished, with hardly any cracks or eroded pieces, and it gives the appearance of looking pretty new. Instead of the brick and hardwood most old schools are made out of, this one is marble and steel. Even all of that could not hide the loud voices of kids that seemed to shake the air. 

Whenever I walked towards this building, a feeling of tiredness overwhelmed me before I even walked in.

There were two separate buildings, separated by a courtyard. My first class of the day was on the first floor of the building to the left. As I weaved through the crowded hallways, I bumped into a tall, overweight student, followed by a short one whose pungent odor left me struggling to breathe. I wasn't alone in my discomfort, as the expressions of several others mirrored my own. It took some maneuvering through the throng of students, but I finally found my classroom. The door was labeled, Mr. Harper. Room 12.

I pushed open the door and entered the classroom, heaving a sigh as I did. It was another history lesson on the agenda for today, but thankfully, it was one of the more straightforward ones. The teacher, a middle-aged man with brown hair adorned with streaks of gray and small, round glasses, seemed to be wrestling with drowsiness as he gazed downward and averted his eyes from the occupied desks.

Looking to my right, I saw a total of fifteen other kids in the classroom. In the class, there's supposed to be eighteen in total.

'Why are two desks empty?'

I glanced at the teacher. "Where are…. um…." I couldn't remember their names, so I tilted my head towards the desks.

The teacher rubbed his baggy eyes and looked up at me. "You didn't hear?"

"Hear wha-? Oh, you're right. Sorry."

No longer wanting to make a fool of myself, I made my way to the second row and the third column, ultimately occupying my desk. The girl seated in front of me had an impressive curtain of jet-black hair that blocked my view, yet it didn't concern me. 

Mr. Harper clapped his hands to gather the attention of the class, "today we will be reviewing the founding of orgone."

He began droning on about the history behind orgone and the effect it had on our world since the first man to discover it had lived, which was thousands of years ago. Although, some scientists theorize it was even earlier. 

It seemed like all my classmates were absorbed in the lesson, and I would have been too, had I not already known much of what Mr. Harper was discussing. Consequently, I placed my elbow on the desk and rested my head in my palms.

The drawling voice of my teacher faded. Instead, I began to wonder about the missing seats. 'What had happened to the two other classmates? I'm fairly certain it's what Pops was talking about. But how exactly did they disappear?'

I questioned the topic a bit more, but stopped realizing I wasn't going to get anywhere. Trying to think of something more pleasant, or tried, but instead I found myself remembering how Pops told me to take the test.

Not that it's new; more so the fact it's constantly annoying.

Shutting my eyes, my head dipped further into my palms. The teacher's voice became even more muffled. And before I knew it, all bad thoughts were gone.

Suddenly, I was gone, transported to a field surrounded by a stark contrast of black and green. The once-pristine sky now bore a malevolent miasma, casting an eerie, poisoned aura overhead. My immobility left me with no options for escape. 

When I turned my head to the left and lowered my gaze, I beheld the grass, now black and sparse. The soil resembled dry dust. In the distance, the trees stood with gray, lifeless bark and bare branches, void of both leaves and fruit. The unforgiving wind whipped up the earth, and the swirling dust nearly obscured my sight.

I quickly shut my eyes. Waiting a few seconds before opening them, I saw a riverbank in the distance, with only pools of poison left where there was once most likely clear blue. Yet I could still see the ripples of the current and hear the water splash.

'It's all there, still, it's just different. Worse. How long has it been like this?'

Falling and stumbling, I collided with the earth, a galaxy of stars exploding in my vision. The agony was unbearable, yet I mustered the willpower to hoist myself up, despite what felt like Herculean effort demanded from my slender physique.

'Truly a weakling through and through.'

Even breathing was tough, the stench of the Earth seemed foul in ways it wasn't before.

Gritting my teeth and squinting, I moved on. Turning around, I saw a town. Or at least, what looked like one from a distance, and I could recognize the outline of the buildings. But there was a hill in front of me that I'd have to climb.

'Fuck!' I cursed.

I shuffled. Again and again, cursing my aches at the same time. 'Move damn you!' I took one step toward the hill, then another, and then I reached it. The top. The urge to collapse whispered in my ear, but I wanted nothing more than to go on.

Yet, I succumbed to the voices, falling flat on my face and biting my tongue. Normally, the pain would be my main focus, but what stood before me made my shock triumph above all.

A city. One that looked like it had been through hell. There were cars and trucks in the streets with broken windows, open hoods and popped tires. The roads were covered in blood, roadkill and tire tracks. The roads were probably packed once, yet now there was not a person in sight. 

The signs of minimal damage were there; graffiti or rust, eroded wood or concrete, and black roads made for an interesting color scheme.

 'Like a painting of the end.'

Looking at the buildings, however, they just looked abandoned. Some had broken windows or open doors, but for the most part it was as if they were…. no longer needed. Every office was so high I had to squint just to see their roofs, and the ones I couldn't see at all seemed so far away. 

'It's like everyone here just…. disappeared. A ghost town.' 

I had seen, in history textbooks, what abandoned cities looked like. This wasn't a long dead place, but a hub recently devoid of civilization. This place was not ancient, but try as I might, I could not pinpoint where on Earth I was.

'Is this the future?' I thought, my eyes barely managing to stay open, akin to the city before me. 'A vision, perhaps? Both? A nightmare, even?'

Suddenly, I was greeted by the eyes of Mr. Harper. The man looked even more tired than normal - ironic. "I'm glad you're awake young man."