A JSE Fanfic
Chapter Eight: Wahnvorstellung
[This is part of an INCOMPLETE SERIES that I wrote in about 2018-2019. I don't know if I'll ever finish it, but I still think there's good stuff in it, and merit in reposting it here. Bottling up your problems never leads to anything good. A familiar environment, now changed, sets off a series of severe flashbacks.]
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“Henrik! Wait!”

“Doc, please!”

Schneep heard their cries and didn’t stop running. He didn’t want to hear any of their excuses. He didn’t want to calm down and go back to Marvin and that—that OTHER man, who was supposed to be named Jameson but how could that be possible how could it be when he’d seen him that night with the glitch himself what was happening he didn’t know—

It took him a while to start seeing his surroundings again. He’d been running on adrenaline and a basic need to get somewhere safe, so he’d followed his instincts and fled to his hospital office. Or at least, what had been his office. The nameplate next to the door had been changed. Now it belonged to some doctor with an even more ridiculous name. Schneep glanced around. He’d managed to lose Jackie and Chase, but he didn’t want to risk seeing them. On impulse, he reached for the door and turned the handle. Surprisingly, the door opened without resistance.

The office inside could’ve been a movie set, it was so plain and bland. No, not even that. It was like a display in a furniture store. All the necessary items were there: desk, chairs, filing cabinets. But there was nothing personal. No coats draped over the coat hanger. No picture frames on the desks. No…nothing.

Schneep wandered over to the desk. It was so surreal to see this room stripped and empty. He wondered what they’d done with all his things. He knew he’d left a jacket on one of the chairs. And he’d had photos of his wife and kids, from before…what happened to them? Did the police take them as evidence? Did one of the others decide to keep them safe? Or did they just get thrown away? Logically, that was the least likely, but the doctor couldn’t shake the feeling that was exactly what happened.

The desk’s surface was clear. There wasn’t even any paperwork. There was a laptop computer open, its screen off. Instinctively, Schneep slammed it shut. Static screen…watching from the webcam…he didn’t want that.

It was only when he backed away from the computer that he realized his hands were shaking.

Nothing was safe. HE was always there, always watching. Schneep had hoped that once he got away he wouldn’t have to think about it ever again. That he’d just have to wake up Jack and then everything could go back to normal. Never mind that he knew this hope would never come to fruition. You can’t simply forget about everything that’s happened. But he wanted, at least, to be safe around his friends. But that just wasn’t happening, with Chase’s kids gone and that stranger here.

Maybe this whole thing wasn’t even real. Maybe it was just another illusion. Maybe Schneep would wake up any minute and be there, and he’d be laughing at him and the foolish dreams he’d fallen prey to—

No. Stop it.

But it didn’t work.

Maybe he’d really gotten away, but the others still weren’t there, and he’d been running around talking to himself, and when he tried to get help people wouldn’t even look his way because they thought he was crazy. Maybe the others had all been captured and he could hear them but their cries were being filtered through the hallucination. Maybe he was the one in the coma instead of Jack and this was all a dream caused by him.

Maybe Jack was already—

“I think he’s in here.”

“But the door is locked.”

“He could’ve locked it behind him.”

“Doc! Are you in there?”

Somehow, Schneep realized he’d fallen to the floor. He didn’t know how or when it happened, and he couldn’t think clearly enough through the whirling in his mind. He didn’t bother answering the call.

“Actually, would he even answer? He’s kinda pissed off at us.”

“Well, okay, maybe not. You sure the door is locked?”

“Yeah. D’you think we should break it—”

BAM!

The door flew open. Jackie stumbled into the room, propelled by the force of the blow he’d used to break it down. Chase hurried forward to catch him before he fell. “Thanks,” Jackie mumbled. “Now…Henrik? Are you in here?”

There was no answer, but Chase nudged Jackie and pointed to an arm peeking out from behind the desk. The two of them exchanged worried look. “Trap?” Chase mouthed. Jackie shrugged, and jerked his head toward the desk. The two of them crept forward. On the other side of the desk, Schneep was curled up into a ball, one hand protecting his head like he was waiting for an attack that would never come, the other flung out like he was reaching for something.

“Doc? You okay?” Chase asked nervously.

There was no answer. Jackie hovered, unsure of what to do. He’d never seen his friend like this before. Mentally, he thought of all the various victims of crimes he’d met in his hero career. Was Schneep in some sort of shock? The behavior seemed to match a bit. Okay, what to do with people in shock? He wasn’t a professional in these matters, but maybe he could get Schneep at least mostly functional again. He knelt on the ground beside him and said in a quiet voice “Henrik? Henrik, we need you to answer.” Still no response. Chase gave Jackie another worried look.

Jackie made a small shush sound in Chase’s direction. He could handle this. Probably. Then he turned his attention back to Schneep. “Hey, Henrik? Schneep? Doctor Schneeplestein? We need to get out of here.” When there was still no response, Jackie leaned back and thought a bit more. Maybe there was something physically wrong. It wouldn’t hurt to check. “Henrik, I’m just gonna see if you’re alright, okay?” Jackie reached toward the doctor’s wrist, intending to start by taking a pulse.

The moment his hand touched Schneep’s, it was batted away. With a sudden lurch, Schneep sat straight up and forcibly pushed Jackie hard enough to knock him over. The hero hit his head against the floor with a loud CLUNK!

“Jackie! Are you okay?” Chase rushed to the aid of his friend.

“’M fine,” Jackie grunted, rubbing the back of his head where it impacted the hard wooden floor.

Chase turned to Schneep. “Dude, what’s up with you? We’re here to help!”

That only seemed to make it worse. Schneep’s eyes widened, and he froze. Only for a moment though, which was broken by a sudden shriek that Chase didn’t immediately register as coming from Schneep. Partly because the shriek was followed by a frantic attempt to scramble away from Chase as Schneep crawled under the desk.

“Doc?” Chase leaned past Jackie and looked into the recess under the desk. “What’re you doing?”

“GET AWAY!”

Chase’s head whipped backward and a sickening crack shot through the air. He felt warm liquid trickling down his face, and a second later came the pain. “He hit me!” Chase said, astonished.

Jackie sat up. “I don’t think—I think something’s very wrong right now. With him. You okay?”

Chase touched the site of injury, causing a flare of pain. “I think he broke my nose.”

Jackie gritted his teeth. “Okay, normally I’m all for letting people work out their issues at their own pace, but we should at least get him out of this place. It might be making whatever this is worse. I know I’d be freaking out if I got stuck in my old office after so long away. So, as much as I hate to do this, I think force is an appropriate response. Nothing else’s worked. So on the count of three, you and I are gonna have to pull him out of there. Got it?”

Chase nodded, trying his best to wipe away the blood. They’d both hate to do it, but Schneep wasn’t making it any easier. “Alright.” Jackie took a deep, steadying breath. “One…two…” A brief moment of hesitation. “Three!”

They moved together, grabbing Schneep and desperately trying to get him out into the open. The doctor tried equally desperately to stay hidden, one minute trying to brace against the sides of the desk and stay rooted in place, the next flailing wildly, hitting every inch of the other two. Eventually, with determination and a fair amount of bruising, Chase and Jackie pulled Schneep away from his hiding place.

“LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY!”

One solid hit landed against the side of Jackie’s head, jolting him enough to get him to let go. Chase had enough common sense to get in between Schneep and the desk before he could dart back underneath. Again, Schneep froze. There were tears in his eyes.

“Doc, come on, you gotta listen to reason here,” Chase pleaded.

“NO! No more your reason!” He pushed and pounded at Chase. “I do not—you will not—I cannot do anymore!”

“Henrik, stop!” Jackie, having recovered his wits, acted quickly, wrapping Schneep up in a hug of death that pinned his arms to his sides. “Leave Chase alone!”

Schneep shook his head, looking from side to side. “Is not here. Is not here. Is you, do not lie.”

“Me?” Jackie frowned, confused. “Who…? I’m Jackie, Henrik.”

“Is not. Is not. You are liar.”

“Who do you think…” Jackie trailed off as realization dawned. They DID all look similar, didn’t they? “Henrik, no, he’s not here! You’re not stuck with him anymore!”

“STOP LYING TO ME!” Schneep wailed. “I do not—I do not want—do not make me, please—”

“Don’t make you…what?”

“I do not want—they are my friends, I will not—I am doctor, I do not hurt—please do not—bitte nicht—”

Oh god. “No, Hen, this—I’m not gonna make you—” Jackie looked to Chase for help, but he looked just as shocked. “We’re just gonna…get out of here,” Jackie muttered.

Schneep had no protest to that. He’d shut down, not moving, vaguely muttering things, switching back and forth between his two languages. In retrospect, Jackie realized it probably wasn’t the best idea to wrap up someone having a panic attack. But they had to fix that later. He wasn’t sure how thick the walls of the hospital were, but there was a chance that people had heard the shouting and were coming to check it out. With Chase being a suspect in a kidnapping, Jackie didn’t even want to think what this would look like.

“Chase, we’re going back to the apartment,” Jackie said. He stood up, bringing Schneep with him.

“I…okay.” Chase winced. A few of the doctor’s desperate punches had hit pretty hard. But he stood up without difficulty. “Why not my house?”

“Police may be watching. Probably already weird that you two left so suddenly, and then you come back and one of you’s catatonic. Also it’s closer. Can you just…” Jackie shifted his weight. “I mean, I’m pretty strong, but it might be good for him to have physical contact that’s not quite as…constricting.”

“Oh. Yeah bro, I’ll help.” Chase took one of Schneep’s arms and threw it around his shoulders. “God, what…is this our fault?”

“Maybe a little bit…” Jackie didn’t want to admit it, but it was true. “But I think…I think a lot of it is his fault. He did…whatever it was that made Schneep this way.”

Chase nodded. “Is he gonna be okay.”

Jackie honestly didn’t know. But he couldn’t say that in front of Chase, who already had a hard time seeing the bright side. “Eventually.” He forced himself to put a touch of optimism into his voice. “Let’s go.”

As they left, Chase brought up a fair point: “Hey, how’d the door get locked? I don’t think he has keys anymore.”

“I…don’t know. But there’s no good explanation.”

Indeed, it felt like they were being watched the whole way home.

A JSE Fanfic
Chapter Seven: A Change of Perspective
[This is part of an INCOMPLETE SERIES that I wrote in about 2018-2019. I don't know if I'll ever finish it, but I still think there's good stuff in it, and merit in reposting it here. Taking a break from the drama with the main characters, the detectives start digging around, and find there’s some weird things in the boys’ varied pasts. Could it all be connected?]
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It was definitely a strange case. When Detective Lydia Bowman decided to take it on, she thought it would be open-and-shut, easy. The kids said they were playing with their dad when he came to visit, and then they disappear in the night. The mother, Stacy Davidson, had no grudges, nobody who hated her, and loved her kids. Clearly, that meant the dad had gone crazy with grief and taken them. There was even precedence: the father had previously tried to off himself, back at the beginning of the divorce, because he couldn’t stand to be away from his kids and wife. History of mental instability was usually a warning sign when considering someone a suspect for a crime.

But then, Lydia and Malcolm had gone to actually question the father (Chase Brody, what a ridiculous name), and he hadn’t seemed…unstable. Okay, maybe he wasn’t in complete control of his life, judging by the state of his living room, but Lydia didn’t think he was a criminal. Her instincts said he was just kind of sad. And when you’ve been a detective for as long as she had, you learn to trust your instincts.

The police station was bustling, as usual. The city was in the middle of a crime wave, and that crazy vigilante in red wasn’t helping, despite their good intentions. Massaging her temple where a headache was blooming, Lydia slid into her desk chair with a sigh. She pushed aside a pile of paperwork and stared at her partner, sitting at his own desk across from her. Malcolm was staring very intently at his computer screen. “So, there’s no sign of the kids,” Lydia said without preamble. “And I don’t think Brody took them. Call me crazy, but it won’t change my mind. Have we reached a dead end or have you found something?”

Malcolm glanced at her. “Actually, maybe,” he said. “That doctor dude? The one who was arguing with you?”

“Mm-hmm, yes,” Lydia’s tone was calm, but her expression darkened. “That doctor dude” had been very disrespectful when the detectives were only trying to do their job. Lydia absolutely hated people like that.

“So, naturally, upon being told his name was ‘von Schneeplestein,’” Malcolm rolled his eyes, “I had to check to see if that was even a real name. Just for shits and giggles, I plugged it into our database, and, well…” Malcolm turned his computer monitor around so his partner could see. The words “MISSING PERSON REPORT” were clearly visible across the top of the page.

Intrigued, Lydia leaned closer. “August 3rd of last year,” she muttered as she read, working through her thoughts.”Reported by one Jackie Parker. Vanished after an unsuccessful operation left patient in a coma. Unsolved…” She frowned. “But…we just saw him. He certainly didn’t look missing.”

“That’s what I thought!” Malcolm nodded vigorously. “And look—” he clicked over to the picture included with the report. “Same person, only wearing glasses and healthier-looking.”

“Okay…” Lydia leaned back. “So, are you saying Brody had something to do with this guy’s disappearance, and that’s why he was with him? But why? And how?”

“I dunno.” Malcolm turned the monitor back around. “Obviously, we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. There could be a very reasonable explanation, and we could be turning into conspiracy nuts. Still…I’m gonna run a facial recognition search. Just one. ‘Cause these guys are doppelgangers of each other, so things should come up for both.”

At that moment, a uniformed cop poked his head around the corner. “Sorry, Bowman, Akela,” he said. “But there’s a lady here demanding answers for her case. Name of Davis, I think.”

“Davidson,” Lydia sighed. “What perfect timing!” She pushed away from the desk and stood up. “I’ll go talk to her. When I come back, fill me in on the results of the search.” Malcolm gave her a thumbs up as she left.

Ms. Stacy Davidson was sitting on a bench in the foyer of the police station. Her curling, white-blond hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she still wore the red vest and skirt that was the uniform at the diner where she worked. She was clutching her purse tightly and tapping her feet, brown eyes darting left and right. She shot to her feet upon catching sight of Lydia. “Detective Bowman,” she trilled.

“Ms. Davidson,” Lydia nodded. “I was told you wanted to see me.”

“Yes, yes, you heard right.” Stacy was trying very hard to keep cool, but Lydia could hear the strain in her voice. “I just wanted to know if there are any updates. After all, this is a very important case, children don’t go missing often. It makes sense that, as the mother—”

Lydia cut off Stacy’s clearly well-rehearsed speech. “There hasn’t been any breakthroughs. We talked to your ex-husband, and we found nothing suspicious.”

“Really?” Stacy drawled disbelievingly. Then, catching herself, she rushed to say “I-I mean, I thought the evidence would tell the story.”

“What a child says usually isn’t very reliable. They’re very imaginative,” Lydia pointed out. “If Mr. Brody is hiding something, he’s unusually well-practiced at lying.” He had been rather nervous, but he just discovered his children were missing and the police had their eye on him. Even as a cop herself, Lydia could understand where the nerves were coming from.

“Maybe you should do some digging? Isn’t that what detectives do?” Stacy said desperately.

“That’s what we’re doing, but nothing’s turned up.” Lydia considered asking Stacy about the strange doctor who shared her ex’s face. “You don’t think that somebody who merely LOOKS like your husband could’ve taken your children, masquerading as him?” She tried to ask the question as discreetly as possible.

“Oh.” Stacy scowled. “Well, there ARE those weird friends of his. They all kind of look the same.”

“Really? How many of them are there?”

“Hard to say. I think there are…four? No…” Stacy bit her lip in thought. “No, a couple of them are gone, I think. Don’t ask me how, because I don’t know. There’s tw—no, three. Another one popped up a while ago. You’re saying one of them could’ve taken Bobby and Trevor?”

“We need to take everything into consideration. And we’re doing everything in our power to find your children. Now, if you would please, we have work to do…” Lydia tried to be as gentle as possible. Still Stacy huffed, before correcting herself with a smile and a nod. She turned and left, and Lydia sighed in relief. She was sure Stacy was a lovely lady, and she certainly cared for her kids, but she had a bit of an unpleasant streak covered by politeness, and she seemed determined to hate her ex. What did he even do?

“Please tell me you have a good solid lead,” Lydia muttered as she sat back down at her desk.

“Um…no?” Malcolm sounded very unsure.

“What d’you mean ‘um, no?’ How can you have an ‘um’ in this situation? You either have a lead or you don’t.”

“Well, I mean—okay, look, there were way more results than I thought there would be.” Malcolm gave Lydia a confused and exasperated look. “So, the first things that came up were YouTube videos. Apparently Chase Brody runs a channel called ‘Bro Average.’”

“Lame,” Lydia rolled her eyes.

“You don’t even know anything about it.”

“The name’s stupid. I can see why Ms. Davidson doesn’t like his job. What came up next?”

“I’m not done talking about YouTube yet. Because the next results were for a channel called ‘jacksepticeye.’ A gaming channel, as opposed to Brody’s trick shots. Run by a man named Jack McLoughlin. Nineteen million subscribers and counting. Seems like a nice guy, he’s donated to charity. Oh yeah, and he also looks eerily similar to Chase Brody. And knows him.” Malcolm turned the monitor around once again, showing Lydia a picture of two guys, both with brown hair dyed green, laughing at the camera. The did look really, really similar. Could’ve been twins.

“So, I just asked Ms. Davidson if her ex has any friends who look just like him,” Lydia said slowly. “And she said yes, there were quite a few. Two apparently disappeared, though. And now there are three. Maybe one of them was the doctor. By any chance, has this Jack guy vanished mysteriously?”

“No, he’s still uploading YouTube videos and doing other stuff. But there’s more.” Malcolm clicked to the next page of results. “This comes from our own database. Recognize the name?”

Lydia squinted. “Jackie Parker? Wait…didn’t they report the doctor missing?”

“Yep. Apparently, Mr. Parker went to the police academy, but dropped out in his final year. See?” Malcolm clicked over to the academy’s enrollment form, filled out. Then over to the next page, highlighting a lack of a diploma. “Shame, too, he was near the top of his class.”

“And this guy also looks like…well, all the others!” Lydia half-shouted. “How many of them are there?!”

“At least one,” Malcolm said with a slight grin. “Next page is just medical news about the doctor, confirming that yes, his real name is actually Schneeplestein, but after that—you’re gonna love this.” Two more clicks brought the detectives to a screenshot from an online news site. The headline read “Magician Gone Mad! Misfire at Marvin the Magnificent’s Latest Performance.” Beneath the bold letters was a picture of a man in a tuxedo and a mask shaped like a cat, with bright green hair. Farther down in the article was another picture of him, revealing that he also looked like…well, everyone else in this godforsaken case.

“Hmm, drama.” Lydia tilted her head. “Nothing better than tabloids picking at celebrity’s reputations.”

“Actually, this is a credible source, has a printed paper and everything. Checked it.” Malcolm leaned forward. “This guy, this famous magician guy, had some sort of psychotic break when the effects at his latest show went awry. Security had to wrestle him to the ground. And then he went in for a psych eval, and you’ll never guess who did it.” Malcolm highlighted one line of the article.

“No way. No way.” Lydia gaped. “It’s the same dude. Nobody else has that name.”

“Yep.” Malcolm grinned triumphantly.

“…okay, I know it’s literally our job to put the pieces together, but I have no idea what this could mean. They must all know each other, but is that important to the case?”

“Haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Anymore carbon copies?”

“Nah, the next few pages are all from some conspiracy website. Apparently there’s a time traveler from the 1920′s who shows up every time there’s an unsolved murder. Interesting, but complete bullshit.”

“Now now, I thought we were supposed to be open-minded to every option,” Lydia teased.

“Not to time travel!” Malcolm threw his hands up in exasperation. “I mean, yeah, theoretically we could go forward in time, but that requires a shitload of energy that we don’t have right now, and certainly didn’t have in the 1920′s!”

“Alright, I’m just messing with ya,” Lydia laughed.

“I know, I know. It’s working, too.” He scowled, then sighed. “So…should we go talk to the father again? Maybe ask if any of his clone friends were hanging around the wife’s house the day of the kids’ disappearance?”

“Maybe we could head back to the house ourselves,” Lydia suggests. “Ask the neighbors again. I know none of them saw anything, but maybe time has jogged their memories.”

“Yeah…we could try out a few new questions.” Malcolm nodded, looking thoughtful. “And I’d like to find out more about this collection of look-alikes. I get the feeling they have something to do with this whole thing. Come on, let’s go.”

“Now?”

“Do you have anything better to do?”

“…no.”

“Then yes, now.”

As the two detectives gathered up their things, Lydia couldn’t shake the feeling that somebody—or something—was watching them. And she got the impression that the source of that feeling was the computer screen…which was now glitching between the results of the search like it was reading through the information all on its own…

Part Two of the PW Timeline
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a complete series I wrote from July 2019 to July of 2022. Though Schneep isn't making much progress, Dr. Laurens is determined to find a way to help, no matter what setback occur.]
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Dr. Laurens hurried through the halls of the hospital, barely staying aware enough to dodge orderlies and patients in her way. She was a bit lost in her own thoughts. When she first took on the Schneeplestein case, she hadn’t expected there to be so many…difficulties. So many…incidents.

She glanced to the side, and was immediately reminded of one of them. Passing the entrance to the hospital cafeteria she could see most other patients inside eating lunch. Normally she’d be taking this time to eat in her office. But last week, Schneep had attempted to stab another patient with a plastic fork. Well, “attempted” wasn’t exactly the correct word, because that implied there was a failure to stab. Luckily, the skin hadn’t actually been broken, so no blood. But the whole thing was still enough to get Schneep banned from the cafeteria. When Laurens asked him about it later, he refused to give an explanation, other than a mumbled “Thought he was someone else.”

If Laurens was being perfectly honest with herself, there were times when she considered dropping the case altogether and handing it over to Dr. Newson, who kept hinting that she’d be happy to take it. After all, did she really want to spend so much time with the guy who 1) killed thirteen people and 2) somehow kept managing to stab people while in a secure hospital? But then she’d remember Dr. Newson’s voice that first day: “Still wanna take this?” Like Laurens couldn’t handle it. Well, Laurens wasn’t one to give up easily. And besides…she just couldn’t leave someone who needed help. And Schneeplestein, as…strange…as he was, was clearly afraid of something. Laurens was sure she could do something about that.

Laurens finally reached her destination: Room 309. There was an orderly waiting outside—Oliver, if she remembered correctly—holding a paper cup. She smiled at him. “You can wait outside, Oliver.” She tried to put a cheerful note in her voice.

He frowned. “Dr. Newson said—”

“If anything bad happens, I’ll shout.” When he didn’t look convinced, she smiled again and said, “Besides, I’m sure you want to keep texting whoever it was.”

The orderly almost dropped the cup in shock. “How did you—”

“You were a little slow putting it away. I know phones are off-limits inside the halls, but don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” She let the statement hang in the air. You could almost hear the “unless” that would follow.

“R-right.” Oliver backed up, handing her the paper cup. “You go on ahead, doc. Don’t forget to shout.”

“I won’t.” Laurens adjusted the items she was holding so she could accommodate the cup, then turned the room’s door handle and stepped inside, closing it behind her.

The inside was identical to all the other bedrooms at the hospital. In the corner was a bed with beige pillows and blankets that were securely tucked in under the mattress. Next to it was a nightstand with a lamp and across the room was a dresser. There were also a pair of armchairs with a small, round table in between them. Overall, Laurens thought it was a nice room to stay in. There was even a window on the far wall, though it lacked the ability to open like windows normally had. Schneep was currently standing at said window, looking out and not turning around when Laurens came in.

“Hello Schneep,” she said, once again putting a happy tone to her words. She walked over to the pair of armchairs, setting her stuff down on the table. Notebook, paper cup, pencil (she hurriedly tucked that behind her ear), and lunchbox. “How are you feeling today?”

Schneep glanced over at her, made a noncommittal noise, then continued looking out the window.

“I see.” She didn’t. “Well, I brought lunch.”

That got his attention. He turned around. “What?”

“Soup,” she explained, pulling a thermos out of the lunchbox. “It’s just potato, but I have crackers too. And, uh, cheese, and some fruit.” She laughed a little. Partly to cover up the sudden jump her nerves made. She wasn’t sure if it was caused by her natural anxiety or genuine worry or fear.

Schneep pushed away from the window and wandered over, sitting in one of the chairs. He watched her silently as she took out the rest of the food from the surprisingly large lunchbox. Then he noticed the open notebook, and tried to lean over to look at it. Laurens quickly pulled it over behind the box. “This is…new,” he said slowly.

“Well.” Laurens shrugged. “I figured that since our sessions usually fall after lunch time, that it would be a good idea to combine them. I mean, I’m not the best cook but I think I’m better than what they bring you.” She chuckled. In truth, the cafeteria food wasn’t that bad, but homemade had to be better.

“So. If I understand this correctly.” Schneep leaned forward onto the table, placing his chin in his hand. “We are going on a lunch date, except instead of chit-chatting, you are trying to analyze me.”

Laurens froze. “We-we-well, uh, ah, you see, I-I didn’t—” She could feel her face heating up.

Schneep smiled. “It is joke, do not worry. I know this is not the place for things like that. Besides, I am married.”

“I thought you were divorced?” Laurens muttered, taking a seat in the other chair.

“Ah, separated, but we still talk.” His smile faded. “We…did, at least.”

Laurens nodded. She pulled the notebook toward her and pushed the food toward Schneep, who stared at it for a moment before slowly reaching toward the thermos and unscrewing the lid. “Do you, um, remember what we were talking about last session?” She asked.

There was a long silence as she waited for Schneep to answer. It was a while, as he seemed more focused on the potato soup than her question. But after a few moments, he mumbled, “I believe you were attacking me about what happened last year on Christmas.”

“I wasn’t attacking you,” Laurens said. “Just asking if you wanted to talk about it.”

“Yes, but I did not—and I still do not!—and you kept asking.” Schneep looked to the side, towards the window. “I was not involved with those videos, I promise you.”

“Alright.” Laurens decided not to mention the fact that he was in several of “those videos.” Last session had been the two of them going in circles, and she felt if she continued to bring up the Christmas incident, then this one would be too. She decided to move on. “I like your hoodie,” she said. “Didn’t take you for the type to wear them.”

“…oh.” Schneep reached up and uncomfortably tugged on the hoodie strings. “Well, it was not mine at first.”

“It wasn’t?”

“No, it belonged to my friend. Jackie. He left it at my apartment one day, then only realized he left it there after he bought a replacement. So he let me keep it.”

“Jackie?” Laurens asked, intrigued. “Do you mean your friend Jack?”

Schneep laughed. “No, Jack and Jackie are different people. Though they would make jokes about that. They already looked similar enough, so they would say they are clones.”

Laurens smiled a bit. “Nice. And these two…they were the only people you considered friends?”

“No, no.” Schneep shook his head. “There was Chase and Marvin, too. It was the five of us, all together. Sometimes I thought we were closer to family.” His expression shifted, becoming a bit grayer. “I…have not seen them in a long time. I-I almost thought—hoped—they would come visit me, but I suppose not.”

“Oh…” Laurens felt an ache in her chest. “Why do you think that is?”

Schneep snorted. “Well, maybe, perhaps, because I—” He stopped short suddenly, stiffening. He turned around and looked behind him.

“Schneep?”

He was silent for a moment, eyes locked on a single spot on the wall. Then: “Shut up.”

Laurens blinked. “Me?”

He turned back around. “No, not you, I—” He sighed, letting his had fall forward into his hands. “Why am I explaining this to you? You think it is in my head.”

“Well…that doesn’t mean it’s not real,” Laurens said slowly. She was pretty sure she heard that in Harry Potter, but damn it, it was applicable to this situation. “Do you want to talk about that, or keep talking about your friends? Why do you think you haven’t seen them in a while?”

Schneep laughed dryly. “It does not matter. It is safer this way.”

“Safer?” Laurens blinked. “Why?”

There was no answer. Schneep didn’t even look up. Laurens shifted uncomfortably, making a few quick notes in her notebook in the hopes he’d say something soon. When he still hadn’t, she cleared her throat. It was worth a guess, wasn’t it? “Are you…afraid you’ll hurt them?”

Schneep looked back up. After a moment of staring at her, he nodded. Slowly.

“Oh.” Laurens didn’t feel that good about guessing correctly. If anything, she felt worse. Not in a way related to herself. But…god, she had the file on Schneep’s case. She was there when he attacked an orderly with a pen, when he’d scratched up another patient’s face. Which meant she remembered how he would start wailing apologies as soon as it was over, how he’d repeat over and over again that he didn’t mean to, that it wasn’t his fault. As bloody as his case file was, he didn’t want this. She set the notebook down. “Look, I…it may sound weird, but I believe in you. You can work through this. And we can help you with that. It’s why we’re here, after all.”

“You cannot help me.” It was less a contradiction, and more a toneless statement of fact.

“Well, we can try. Who knows? Maybe we’ll surprise you.” She tried for a gentle smile. “Hey, the food is getting cold. Are you still hungry?”

After a moment, Schneep straightened and started picking at the food she’d brought.

“Oh! And you need to remember this.” Laurens pushed the paper cup toward him. The pills inside clacked against each other.

“Yes, yes,” Schneep mumbled. He looked over at her and paused. His mouth opened, like he was about to say something. Then he closed it again, shook his head, and resumed.

And even though that night Laurens would look over the notes she took for this session and feel like nothing got done, she would later remember this as one of the better ones.
.............................................................................................

What made a “good” session didn’t always depend on her. Of course, there were times when she wouldn’t push enough, and the session would be mostly chatter, or when she would push too much and Schneep would shut down in silent anger. But also…well, she learned quickly that if Schneep was having one of his bad days, they wouldn’t get much done at all.

Like the day he threw the lamp at the window. She came in to find it broken on the floor and Schneep banging and clawing at the glass. He kept attempting to force open the window, repeating “Ich bin gefangen…lass mich raus, lass mich raus!” Occasionally, he would shout “Behalte mich nicht bei ihm!” Laurens didn’t speak German, so she didn’t know what he was saying, but she could tell he was distressed. She spent the entire time attempting to calm him down.

Then there was the day, about a month after the first lunch session, when she finally made good on her promise to call for an orderly if something went wrong.

She could immediately tell this was going to be a difficult day the moment she walked into Room 309. While Schneep would usually be sitting in one of the chairs, waiting for her, today he was sitting on the bed in the corner with his knees drawn up to his chest. His eyes were wide, and there were dark bags under them. Laurens very much doubted that he’d gone to sleep the night before.

She set her lunchbox down on the small round table. Hopefully she’d get to use that today, but possibly not. “Hello Schneep,” she said. “How are you feeling today?”

Schneep didn’t say anything in answer to her usual greeting. His eyes were focused on some point in space in front of him.

“Ah. Well, that’s too bad.” She dragged one of the armchairs over so it was closer to the bed and sat down. She set her notebook on her knees and opened up to the page with today’s date listed at the top. “I brought food. We can get to that later, though, if you’re not up for it yet.” She looked up at him. “Last time we were—”

“I hate this.”

Laurens blinked. “Ex-excuse me?”

“I hate this.” Schneep was pulling on the strings of the hoodie he was wearing. It was the only one he had, the one he said belonged to his friend. “I hate this, I hate this, hate it, hate this—”

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘this’,” Laurens said patiently.

“Yes you do. You do not? You do. Please do not lie to me.”

“I’m not lying, I promise.” She gripped the edges of the notebook tightly.

His eyes whipped over toward her, still wide. “Please do not do this.”

“H-how about you tell me what the ‘this’ is, and maybe I’ll understand what you mean,” she suggested.

He looked away again, back towards that spot. “It is still going on. Why? Why does it not end?” He tugged on the hoodie strings again. “It is never over. Not—not going anywhere.”

“What isn’t?” Laurens asked quietly.

“Where are they? I do not know. I-I do not know what he wants from me.” Schneep suddenly grinned, a strangled, manic laugh escaping. His hand shot up and clamped over his mouth, but there was still the muffled sound of giggling. He started rocking back and forth, using his other arm to hug himself.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Laurens leaned forward, putting all the reassurance she could in her voice. “I want to help you, but I can’t if I don’t know everything. Who are ‘they’?”

Schneep looked back over to her. He unfolded a little from his position, though still rocking and still covering his mouth, and tugged on the hood of the hoodie he was wearing.

Lauren’s brows lowered. “Your…friends?” When Schneep nodded, she said, “I-I might be able to find them. They could come visit. Would you like that?” Another nod. Laurens briefly looked down to write a note to herself in her notebook. Schneep had provided a lot of information about them during their sessions, maybe she could do something to track them down. She looked back up. “And…who is the ‘he’?”

A renewed round of muffled laughter. Schneep began shaking his head vigorously, covering his head with the arm not already covering his mouth. He pushed backward into the wall, curling up tight once again.

“Okay, okay, you don’t have to say anything, don’t worry.” Laurens began flipping through her notebook to a single page near the back. This wasn’t the first, or even the second or the third time Schneep had mentioned a mysterious “him.” She wasn’t sure exactly what “he” meant for Schneep, only that he was very, very afraid of “him.” She was sure that if she got him to tell her about “him,” she’d make progress on what was going on inside his mind, and how to help him deal with it.

Laurens took a moment to make a few notes, first about “him” and then about Schneep’s behavior this session. “I wanted to ask you about your medication. You know, the pills? Are they working?” Probably not. She’d probably have to change the prescription soon. “Schneep?” She looked up.

Schneep had seemed to calm down. At first glance. There wasn’t anymore rocking, and his arms weren’t wrapped around his head anymore. But then she saw that was because they were busy wrapping—

“No!” Laurens lunged forward, her notebook toppling to the floor. “Stop that! Please!”

Schneep didn’t listen to her, and when she tried to pull his hands away, he resisted. It was the string. The string that was supposed to be inside the hood, but had apparently been pulled out. It was now tangled around Schneep’s neck, and he was pulling it tighter.

“Schneep! H-Henrik, don’t—” Laurens grabbed his wrists and tried pulling them away, but with the string still tightly held in his hands that was just making it worse. She tried to pry away his fingers, and when that failed, to grab the string around his neck and pull it off. It didn’t work. She wasn’t the strongest person in the first place, and Schneep jerked his head and hands away whenever possible. She was beginning to hear small choking noises.

There was no other option. “Help!” She shouted. “Someone, anyone! We need help in here!”

Like always, an orderly had been waiting outside the door. He barged inside, taking in the scene for only a brief moment before running to Laurens’s side. A struggle later, the hoodie string was safely removed and tucked into the orderly’s pocket while Schneep was half-lying in Laurens’s arms, wheezing slightly.

Laurens looked over to the orderly. “Thanks, Oliver.”

“What happened?”

“I-I don’t know. I just looked down for a minute and he must’ve—it was from his hoodie, he removed it and started—” Laurens shuddered.

“Oh, god,” Oliver muttered disbelievingly. “We should tell Dr. Newson about this.”

“Y-yes, probably a good idea. And can you page for the med team? Just to check for any damage.” While the orderly did that, Laurens looked down at Schneep. “Hey. Stay with me, buddy. I…I hope you know that…I-I’m trying my best.”

There was a dry, hacking sound that Laurens took a moment to recognize as a laugh. Schneep muttered something.

Laurens stared at him. “What did you say…?”

“The med team’s already here,” Oliver suddenly said. “It’s probably a good thing we’re close to the med wing.”

“Oh. Okay…” Laurens was quiet as the others took Schneep away. Was quiet as she picked up her notebook and lunch box and followed them down to the medical wing. Was quiet as they said he should probably stay there for at least a night. Was quiet as she wandered down the halls toward her office.

She’d told him she was trying her best.

He responded, “So did I.”

Laurens wrote this in her notebook. She wasn’t sure why, but…it seemed important.
.............................................................................................

“Oh yeah, we had to confiscate that.”

“You what?!”

Laurens stared at Dr. Newson. She’d been called down to her office to give updates on Schneep’s progress, since the strangling incident that week might’ve seemed…counter-productive. She also wondered if maybe Dr. Newson was taking this as a chance to convince her to drop the case. But nothing could’ve prepared her for Dr. Newson casually mentioning…that.

“Well, of course.” Dr. Newson shrugged. Her posture was very relaxed, almost lounging in her office swivel chair on the other side of the desk. “You know the regulations. If we can’t have button-up shirts in the hospital, then I guess we can’t have hoodies either.”

“You…you could’ve just removed the string and let him keep the hoodie itself,” Laurens suggested.

“Hmmmm maybe.” Dr. Newson leaned back. “Or maybe he would’ve found a way to choke himself on that overlarge collar hoodies have. I’m not taking that risk.”

“But Dr. Newson—”

“Who’s in charge of the hospital?”

Laurens looked down, shifting in her chair. She idly looked around Dr. Newson’s desk as a way to distract herself. A bunch of paperwork, a desktop computer, and a framed photograph of Dr. Newson with a man who looked a lot like her.

“Why are you so concerned about this?” Dr. Newson asked. “It’s just a hoodie.”

“It-it’s important to him,” Laurens said meekly.

“Huh,” Dr. Newson stated. Was it just Laurens’s imagination, or was there a new, hard light in Newson’s eyes? “Well, I would think staying alive would be worth more. You can apologize to him if you want.”

Laurens nodded.

Dr. Newson idly ran a hand through her ponytail. “I’m thinking we need to move him to the first floor.”

“What?!” Laurens straightened. “No! We’re not at that point yet!”

“After multiple attempted attacks on staff and patients, shown destructive behavior, and now this? We’re still not at the point, huh?”

“But—but nothing’s succeeded since the pen incident,” Laurens said, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice.

“Alright, fine,” Dr, Newson waved away. “It’s too much red tape anyway. But know I’m considering it. I expect more progress reports from you.”

Laurens felt an acidic wave of words rise in her throat. Progress reports? Like it was as simple as building a new road. The human mind was a lot more complicated than that, and progress wasn’t linear. But of course, she couldn’t yell any of this at her boss, so she kept quiet.

“I’ll be keeping track of any more incidents,” Dr. Newson continued. “If they become excessive, and/or dangerous, and/or more successful, then we’re moving him. Okay?”

“Okay,” Laurens repeated quietly.

“Great.” Dr. Newson straightened up. “You’ve dropped all other patients to focus on this, Rya, don’t fail.” She relaxed again. “You can leave now, if there isn’t anything else.”

Laurens pushed her chair back and stood up. “Goodbye, Dr. Newson. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye.” Dr. Newson waved lazily. As Laurens left, she heard Newson mutter something else. “Dunno why you’re so concerned about this anyway.”

It was a good question. Why was Laurens so concerned with Schneep’s predicament? But a better question was, why wouldn’t she be? She’d seen him lash out at others, true, but she also saw him strangle himself with a hoodie string. She’d read the case file about all the things he’d done to those poor people, but she also heard him admit he was scared he’d hurt his friends.

Dr. Schneeplestein was not fully in control of his own mind. And he knew it. And it terrified him. Maybe it was Laurens’s natural empathy, or maybe it was her training as a psychiatrist that told her to never leave anyone behind, but she wanted to help.

And when she arrived home that night, she logged onto her computer and typed a name into a search bar. Maybe she could help by finding someone he wanted to see.

Or maybe it would be a bad thing to alert these people. After all, he had said he didn’t want to hurt them. But Laurens thought that everyone needed their friends.

Part Two of The Stitched AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a completed fanfic series of mine with 24 total chapters. I started this October of 2018 and finished it May of 2021. After a strange, tragic event seemed to kill their friends Marvin and Jackie, Jack is attacked by a strange being. He and Chase visit a man named JJ who has knowledge of magic. They try to discover the truth of Anti, and are surprised to find him connected to Jackie and Marvin.]
.............................................................................................

“You are lucky to not be dead.”

Jack couldn’t help but poke at the wound on his neck. He winced. “I’m lucky I know the best doctor in the world,” he said quietly. He didn’t want to tear the stitches.

Schneep huffed, but couldn’t hold back a smile. “Well, yes, I am a qualified doctor. But that is no reason for you to play with knives.”

“It was Halloween, bro.” Chase piped up for the first time since his arrival. He was leaning against the doorway of the hospital room, trying his best to look casual when he’d just been hovering nervously by Jack seconds before. “Pumpkin carving is a tradition, you know. How was he supposed to know he’d cut himself?”

Jack shifted uncomfortably on the hospital bed. For a moment, he wondered if he should just stay silent. But honesty was always the best policy. If what happened was real, then they had a serious threat to deal with. If it wasn’t, then they could figure out why the hell he was seeing things. “Well, actually, guys…I didn’t exactly do it myself.”

Immediately, Schneep and Chase jumped to attention. “Why? What happened?” “Should we call the police?”

“No, I…you guys are gonna think I’m crazy,” Jack sighed.

“No way, dude.” Chase shook his head. “We’d never think that.”

“I—you haven’t even heard what it is.” Jack muttered. “Okay, here goes…so, like, for a couple weeks now, I’ve had a feeling like something is watching me. But not at times when that would make sense, I mean all the time. And sometimes I’d see things out of the corner of my eye, or hear whispers that aren’t there.”

“Jack, I do not think I am the right kind of doctor for these problems,” Schneep said, half-joking.

“No, no, let me finish. So, sometimes I’d get nosebleeds out of nowhere, and sometimes I started, like, walking down to the shop or something but then a split second later I’d be back home, like there was a—a glitch in the fabric of reality. And I’d start laughing or hearing laughter for no reason.”

“Okay…so what does that have to do with this business?” Chase asked.

“So, I was doing the video, just like normal, and I’d keep hearing noises. When I went to check them out, nothing. I got another nosebleed, heard more laughing, and just…it just seemed like everything that was happening that month got dialed up to eleven. And then, after I got the pumpkin all finished and was about to do some fine cleaning…I just—I fucking have no idea how to describe it. My arm was moving on its own and it was like—it was like there was someone else in my head, like…squeezing it. And this thing was controlling my arm and it—it did the thing.”

Silence. Jack tried not to squirm as his two friends exchanged glances. They looked worried. “Jack…what I said before was joke, but I really think you should talk to a different doctor,” Schneep suggested haltingly.

“You haven’t even heard the weirdest part.” Jack shook his head. “It—he talked to me. He called me weak…and…” He swallowed nervously. He didn’t really want to talk about the things he said after he cut his throat and used his body like a puppet. So he skipped to the most important part. “Anyway, after he left, or retreated, or whatever, I saw him. And he looked a lot like me, but…wearing different clothes. He looked like a living computer glitch.”

“You sure you weren’t just…hallucinating?” Chase asked. “I mean, you’d lost a lot of blood by the time I came to check on you.”

“I know, I know, it’s a real possibility. But the weirdest thing was his neck. It was—was also cut open, but it was stitched close. With green string. But it wasn’t doing a very good job at keeping the wound closed, and the stitches were pulling apart…and I got the strangest feeling I knew him.”

Schneep walked over to the counter nearby and grabbed a pen and pad of paper. He wrote down something real quick, then came back and handed it to Jack. “I think you should check out Dr. Laurens. She is very good. Not to say you have to, but I think it would help.”

“Wait, doc, hang on a second.” Chase frowned thoughtfully. “I think…maybe…”

Schneep glared at him. “Chase, do not encourage him,” he said through gritted teeth, trying to keep Jack from hearing. “I know you are wanting to help but it will not to do this.”

“All I’m saying is—I mean—I’m wondering—” Chase stopped, gathering his thoughts. “So, I know you remember what happened a little under a year ago. I do too.”

The doctor’s expression immediately darkened. Nobody needed a reminder of what happened to Marvin and Jackie. It was bad enough that the double murder—or possibly murder-suicide, nobody could agree—got an unholy amount of media attention, given that no one could figure out what actually happened. One had a slit throat, the other held the knife, both were dead but only one was injured, and they were inside a circle drawn on the floor like some sort of ritual. How and why did they even die? And then the police found Jackie’s super suit hidden in the closet and all sorts of shady websites on Marvin’s computer. That only made things more complicated.

“Well, it can’t be a coincidence that the same kind of cut appeared on Jack nearly a year later,” Chase pointed out. “And they were probably doing some kind of magic, right? Maybe black magic? Doesn’t what Jack said sound like he got attacked by a black magic demon or something?”

Jack smiled. He hadn’t really thought of the possibility that what happened to Marvin and Jackie could be connected to the thing that attacked him, but it was nice to know that Chase thought there was an explanation besides him being crazy. Schneep, on the other hand, looked doubtful. “I do not mean to speak ill of the dead, but Marvin believed in things that could not exist. If he dragged Jackie into his shit, then that was between them. But it had nothing to do with their deaths.”

“You don’t know that,” Chase snapped. “Maybe there was some sort of sacrifice or something, and things went wrong.”

“For god’s sake, do you really think JACKIE would be part of black magic?” Schneep threw his hands up in the air. “Have you ever heard anyone speak out against evil more than him?”

“I mean…the dark side can be tempting, bro,” Chase mumbled.

“I am not being part of this. I am leaving, I have other patients to check on. Jack, please at least try to visit Dr. Laurens. She can help more that mindless speculation.” Schneep stuck around long enough to see Jack nod in agreement, then quickly left.

“Jack…you think that…” Chase hesitated, then said the next few words in a rush. “D’you think that if we find out more about what attacked you we could find out what happened to them?”

Jack hesitated. There was a bit of desperation shining in Chase’s eyes. No, actually, there was a lot. Jack couldn’t blame him. A lot of terrible shit had hit Chase at that moment in time, shit that led to…well, it made sense that he wanted his friends back. Jack did too. But also, he just really wanted to know what the deal with this thing was. Why was he targeting them? “I mean, maybe,” Jack shrugged. “It’s worth a shot. And if there’s really a demon out there, we need to protect ourselves. But how do we do that?”
.............................................................................................

The next day, Chase and Jack found themselves standing outside a little shop on the edge of town. The window showed a display made of books, amulets, and hanging talismans. The sign identified the shop as “Jackson Magick Emporium.”

“So, this place is, like, legit, right?” Chase asked.

Jack pulled on the bandages around his neck. “I mean, as much as one of these places can be. The website seemed to know what they were talking about, and there were good reviews from people who weren’t nutters. So…let’s go in.”

A bell ding-a-linged to announce their arrival into the shop. Chase blinked. “Good god, did we just step back in time or something?” The front room of the shop looked a lot like a living room from the early twentieth century, but with the addition of a counter with a cash register and price tags on the various knickknacks scattered on the tables. It was a pleasant place, pastel blue in color and well-lit with yellow lamps. But nobody was there.

“They head the bell, right?” Jack wondered, glancing over at the little silver instrument hanging by the door.

“Don’t see how they could’nt’ve.” Chase wandered over to one of the tables and picked up the leather-bound book on its surface. He turned it over in his hands. It did look like something Marvin would’ve had. This must be the right sort of place.

“I’d advise you to put that down.”

Chase jumped, looking around for the source of the voice. A well-dressed man in a blue vest and black hat was coming out of a door behind the counter. He…weirdly enough, he looked pretty similar to Jack and Chase, just with a mustache. Did Jack have some sort of doppelganger magnet attached to him?

“Sorry,” Chase mumbled, putting the book back.

“Quite alright. You had no idea. But I must warn you that it’s very old and fragile.” The man walked around the counter and approached the two. He gave a friendly smile and stuck out his hand. “My name is Jameson Jackson, but you may call me JJ if you like. Welcome to my shop. How may I help you?”

Jack shook his hand. “Hello. I’m Jack and this is my friend Chase. We, uh…” He looked over to Chase for support, but he just shrugged. “So I went onto your website and saw that you did a thing where you could get rid of, like…evil spirits and shit.”

“Well, I wouldn’t use that type of language,” JJ frowned. “But yes, that is correct.”

“Okay, so, you see…I mean it’s been happening for a while, but last night it really…really, um…” Jack fidgeted with the bandages again. “So, I’m not wearing these for fun. You see what I’m talking about?”

JJ’s brows furrowed. “Yes, I think I’m getting the gist of it. Why don’t we go into the other room? I can make us some tea and you can tell me everything, at your own pace of course.”

The other room looked pretty much the same, but red instead of blue and no items for sale. The main piece of furniture was a table and chairs in the center, but there were a few drawers and chests along the edge for holding things, along with a small stove. Jack and Chase sat down and spilled out the whole story, starting with Marvin and Jackie’s mysterious incident last year, and ending with Jack’s account of this thing taking control of his body and seeing it afterward. By the time their tale had ended, the tea was long finished. JJ set a cup in front of each of them, then joined them at the table. He leaned forward and rested his head on his hands.

“So, do you have any idea what your friends were actually messing about with?” he asked in a quiet voice, as if afraid someone would overhear.

Jack shook his head. “No, sorry.”

“They were in a circle?”

“Yeah, with candles around the edges. Is that…is that helpful?”

“Not very, unfortunately. Most spells—or at least, most heavy-duty spells—take place in a protective circle. It’s meant to protect the casters from outside dangers and keep any misfires contained inside. Do you remember anything else? Did they discover any spellbooks or charms?”

“I don’t remem—”

Chase interrupted. “Wait, I think…I think there was some weird things. A bunch of burned paper, and…and there were two weird necklaces, but…I dunno about those ones.”

“Explain.”

“Well, Schneep—he’s a friend of ours, a doctor—showed me the police report of the crime scene. They were both wearing them, and they were when he saw the bodies, but later, when he asked the cops about where those necklaces went, they swore there weren’t any.”

“Hmm…” JJ took a sip of the tea, thoughtful. “Disappearing amulets…that is unusual. Depending on their purpose, we could guess at the spell they were trying. Hang on.” He stood up, walked over to a chest and rummaged it, then came back with a book with a red cover. He opened it, revealing that the book had been patched together with pages tied into the lining, like an old-fashioned kind of binder. They were covered with ink drawings of various amulets, with explanations of what each did. “Did your friend happen to describe them?”

“Uhhh…” Chase cast a line back into the waters of memory. “This is a recall of a recall of a glance, so don’t take this too seriously. But they were white…a bit teardrop-shaped.”

“Wait wait wait I saw those!” Jack nearly knocked over his teacup in excitement. “He was wearing them! They had these weird designs on them, and they were glowing green.”

JJ slid the book toward him. “Do you think you could identify them?”

“Maybe…I didn’t really see them that good.” Jack started flipping through the pages, then suddenly stopped. He looked around. “It’s happening again…” he muttered. “I feel like someone’s watching us…”

Chase, confused, said “What?” But JJ didn’t hesitate, shooting to his feet and dashing to the drawers, pulling them open and glancing at the contents before slamming them shut again.

“What are you looking for?” Jack asked, nervous.

“Either protection or the source of that feeling,” Jameson explained. “If you can, help me look.”

“We don’t know—oh, alright.” Jack didn’t want a repeat of Halloween night. He stood up, pulled Chase upward too, and ran toward the drawers. He figured he’d know if something was important. The drawers were filled with books and loose papers with strange writing, crude dolls with paint on them, amulets and other magickal jewelry, and so many other talismans that Jack couldn’t identify. Nothing stood out.

Until Jack heard a sudden shriek.

His head whipped around, and he saw Chase standing in front of an open drawer with a look of absolute shock and horror on his face. He held something in his hand, a pair of teardrop-shaped amulets dangling from strings. They glowed green, but the glow couldn’t mask the cracks that marred their surfaces.

“Chase! Drop it!” Jameson yelled.

Startled, Chase did exactly that. The amulets clattered to the surface. There was a sound, a sound in the back of their minds that seemed to be coming from the broken talismans. It was a high whine, punctuated with electronic-sounding crackling. Or was it laughing?

“How’d they get there?” Chase asked, breathless.

“They came with him,” Jack muttered.

It was definitely laughter. Then Jack heard, directly in his ear, “I’m so p̶ro̡u̡d, J̷ąck͝ie̴bo̢y.”

With a yelp, Jack whirled around, but nobody was there. Chase and Jameson, who’d apparently also heard something similar, were looking around wildly as well. The room seemed darker. The whine was growing louder.

“Where are you?” Jameson asked. “Show yourself!”

A giggle. “You’d lik̵e̵ that, wou̡l͞dn̕'͢t͝ yo͢u҉? A neat little ta͡r̴g̨et to throw your s͠p̛e͞l̡ls̶ at? Oh wait, I f͝or͠g̕o̶t, you don’t a̦̝̤̱̥c̗̭͝t̮̤̭̝u͈̭͓̰͈a̦ḻl̩̦͈y̠͟ have any m͏ag̢ic̢..” The voice bounced around the room, seeming to come from the corner one moment and the center the next.

“There’s more than one way to skin a cat,” Jameson said.

“Oh, I̢̕ ̨͏k͏n̸̕o͠w̸͠.” He sounded amused now.

“What are you?” Jack cried.

“Can’t you t̶e͟ll? I’m y̕͢o̢͞͠u̷̶ , of course, J̮̪̘̯͝a̵̟̣̻ͅc̨̘̬͓͖̭̞̳̲̟k̛̼̣̝̞̹̹͍̬i̖̞̭͝e͏͓͢b̷̨̫̗̗̕o̤͔̝͖y̖͕̣.”

“N-no…” Jack whispered. “No, you’re not. If anything, you’re the anti-me.”

“ Ą̴n͢͠t͞i̶..oh, I l͟i̸̛ke̵ that. V͠e̡r̵y̛ m҉uch͝.”

“Great, you just named it,” Chase grumbled. Jack noticed his hands were shaking, and his eyes were darting everywhere.

He—Anti—laughed again, and the lights flickered at the same time. Jack felt the feeling of being watched lighten up, and the white noise seemed to shift…to Chase. “ Y̕o͞u’re putting on sųch͢ a b̷͝r̴͞av̧e fa͏͝c̶͢e, but I can taste the f̛e̵̷a҉̨r̶͝ i͝n͡ y̢o̕ur m͏̕͟i͟͠n͞d̷̸̶. It’s dȩ̴l̛ic̶i͠o͡u̡s̸͢.”

The flickering intensified. Jack’s eyes widened as Chase’s shadow shifted, contorted, then stepped away from the wall. “Chase, watch out!” Jack yelled. He started to run toward him, and Chase himself tried to turn around, but it was too late. Anti was real, and he was holding a knife to Chase’s throat.

Jack froze in place.

“ G̨ood i̢ḑea, J̷̶a̧ck͏̷i̛e̕.” Anti bared his teeth in what would’ve been a smile on anyone else, but on him it could only be seen as a threat. He did indeed look a lot like Jack, but his form was spazzing out and glitching at every moment, coming apart in pixels. The upper half of his face was hidden in shadows that twisted and writhed, strands of green light trying to form a symbol on the center of his forehead. The wound on his neck wasn’t just a cut, but a wide gash weeping blood. Green stitches were trying to keep it closed.

“What do you want?” Jack whispered.

“What do I w̶̡a͡n̵̴t̸̸?” Anti repeated the question, tilting his head like a predator sizing up its prey. “First, I want to see if y͡ou̴r f̢r҉iend he͠r̶e̡ b̵̶le̷e̢d̴̡s͟͠ like you, if your faces are t͢he ͝s̶a̡m̡e. Then…well, you͠'l̷l ͡soon fin͢d ͢o̧u̢t̵. I wouldn’t want to s̴po͠į͟l e̦̼v̖̫̱̰͇e͏̰r̤̜͝y̪̼͖̙̙̕t̥h̪͎̙̱i̖n̦̻̭̹͈̼̮͝g͢ for you.”

Chase’s eyes were wide, and he held perfectly still. The knife was glitching ever so slightly. As Jack watched, it nicked Chase’s neck and a single drop of blood trickled down his throat. Jack sucked in an panicked breath. What could he do? Was there anything he could do?

Suddenly, Anti’s smile dropped. His head snapped—quite literally, the sound accompanied by a shattering of pixels—toward Jameson. Jack realized that he’d been awfully quiet during the whole confrontation. And it was because he was preparing. Several drawers were hanging open. There was a tall blue candle burning on the table, surrounded by strange symbols written in red chalk. Jameson held a golden amulet out in front of him, a golden square with a purple gem in the center. It was emitting a faint white light. He grinned triumphantly. “What were you saying about magic?”

Anti growled. “ F̵̮͎̠̭̮̯͇͟i̛͓̦̠͖͈̥̹̞̕n͎̰̠̙̻͟e͖̱̼̬. I’ll l̶͟e͠t ̛͝yǫ͝u win t͞͠͡hiş ti̷͞m̶̧̢e. But this i̛sn'͏̶t ̧̕o̢v̵̡e͞r̛.” Reality flickered, and shattered. When everything was set back to normal, the room was light again, Chase was gasping for air, and Anti and the amulets were gone. “S͏҉e̵̡e̶ ̸yo̸͡u͟ ̧s͏o̶̡o̸͢n͢͞.” One last whisper around their minds, and they felt his presence disappear.

Silence.

After a long while, Jack turned to JJ and said, “You have to teach us how to do that.”

JJ smiled shakily. “A strong and more specific variant of the banishing. I wasn’t sure it would work. But it was better than the alternative.”

“You can say that again.” Chase almost reached up to prod the small cut on his neck, but stopped himself. “We need to tell Schneep about this. Let’s see him deny it in the face of three eyewitnesses.”

“He’ll find a way to.” Jack sighed. “But we gotta convince him. He could be in trouble too.”

And still, Jack couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew who Anti was, and not just because he shared his face. There was something eerily familiar…like a favorite song that had been twisted and distorted into a different tune entirely.