Beyond Redemption Read Free

knowing he was undeserving.
    Sniveling weakling . Konig hated the last one the most. Knowing the Doppels displayed aspects of his own character made it no easier to accept.
    Konig took comfort knowing no one liked everything about themselves—most weren’t confronted with physical manifestations of their own defects.
    â€œBe gone,” he commanded. “I have no need of your craven counsel.”
    The Doppel glanced around the room as if taking in the dark oak and luxurious finishes one last time before briefly meeting Konig’s steady gaze with an apologetic shrug. “Apparently you don’t believe that.” The Doppel ducked its head subserviently and stared at the floor. It was all an act. “Sorry.”
    â€œSilence, Acceptance. Stand in the corner. Say nothing.”
    The Doppel nodded meekly but Konig caught the faintest hint of a knowing smirk as it moped toward the corner. At least it still obeyed, even if he couldn’t banish it. Still, his inability to forcethe Doppels’ disappearance was not heartening. His delusions grew in strength, gaining control of their own existence.
    In a floor-to-ceiling brass-rimmed mirror filling most of one wall, several of his reflections gathered, as if at a window, to watch. Long gaunt faces and bald heads. Their mouths moved but no sound could be heard. A recent development, he’d only begun experiencing Mirrorist tendencies in the last few days. It was only a matter of time before he heard their voices. They might briefly offer valuable advice or show him flashes of the future or distant places, but they would someday climb from their mirror world. When this eventuality came to be, they would either kill or replace him. He wasn’t sure which he feared more.
    If my other delusions don’t get me first.
    It didn’t matter. He’d have his god and gods change everything.
    One of the other Doppels—Abandonment, Konig named this one—leaned forward to whisper consiprationally in his ear, “Acceptance plots against you.”
    Konig pushed the Doppel back. “And you don’t?” He laughed, a humorless bark.
    Trepidation and Abandonment both backed away from Konig’s angry glower, bowing their heads. Only Acceptance remained unfazed, facing the corner.
    â€œYou can’t trust him,” whispered Abandonment. “Acceptance seeks to replace you.”
    â€œAnd you I can trust?”
    Abandonment kept his face lowered, but Konig saw the tight smile. “Of course not. Everyone abandons us in the end. Just like our parents.”
    â€œ My parents,” snapped Konig. “You are delusion.”
    â€œYour parents,” corrected Abandonment smoothly. “If Mother can abandon you, who can’t? It’s why I exist. I may be delusion, but I am your reality.”
    A fourth Doppel faded into existence, a much younger Konig. The tearstained face showed all the loss of an abandoned child who has suddenly realized not a single soul in all the world cares for him beyond how he may be used. Konig focused on the present and drove the Doppel away. This was no time to dwell on old wounds, fester as they might.
    â€œYour pet scientist is coming,” Abandonment spat with vehement disgust.
    â€œHe is my friend.”
    â€œWe don’t have friends,” said Abandonment. “Not really.”
    The Doppel was right, but still Konig’s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding in anger. They had been friends, back before he’d decided to make a god. “He is useful,” Konig said.
    â€œHe hates us,” warned Abandonment. “You can’t trust him. He is sane .”
    â€œThe day you counsel trust I shall truly know I am in trouble.”
    â€œIn this I must agree with Abandonment,” piped in Acceptance before tucking his head back into the corner when Konig fired a warning look in his direction. “I don’t think he likes us,” whispered the Doppel.