Taken By My Copy?

A shiver runs down my spine as I walk down my neighborhood sidewalk. Only the chill is not from the cold night air. It's from something else, something unseen.

A part of me tries to brush it off. After all I'm a single 22-year-old female walking alone in the at night. There's many scarier things for a young woman besides this, but not many. But this doesn't feel like the reason. Well, I guess that could partly be the reason.

As I walk the words of the old woman who was at the bus stop play in my head over and over; "There's something wrong in the air." She put into words what I was feeling. Something just feels wrong. Like, otherworldly wrong.

I can't explain it but I can feel it. It's like nature knows something isn't right and is warning everyone. That's why the breeze has that foreign chill. That's why the night air smells odd. It's why there's no one else walking even if it is only 7pm, the time for all the joggers. It's why I keep looking behind me as I walk.

Finally, I reach my house. I quickly move to the front door as I already had my key ready. I make sure to check around me multiple times before I move to the front door as it now feels like someone is following me. That even right now they are watching me.

My front door unlocks easily and I rush inside. I damn near slam the door as I race to lock it as if someone or something is running at the door to burst in. Looking at the small window on the door, I don't see anyone but I damn well feel them. And whatever it is feels close too. Makes me feel that I got the lock in just in time.

Being inside my house does give me some comfort. Maybe because it is familiar or maybe because I have a few weapons here I can defend myself with. But the way I feel at the moment, I don't want to turn on too many lights. I don't want to let the world know that I'm home.

With that in mind, I decide to forgo my normal routine of getting a glass of wine or some cheese. Instead I go straight up to my bedroom in the dark. It's on the second floor and this is the first time ever that my stairs have felt creepy. Like climbing stairs in a video game.

Once in my bedroom, I check under my bed like a little kid to make sure there's no monster there. There isn't of course, unless you call a pile of shoes a monster. Seeing this I do chuckle a bit because I know I'm being silly. This, at least, allows me to relax some. Feeling a tad better, I change into my pajamas, or at least what I call my pajamas; t-shirt and boy shorts underwear.

Standing next to my bed, I suddenly get a heavy dose of that feeling of being watched. This is confusing because I'm inside my bedroom with all the blinds down. There's no way anyone could see me at the moment. Hell, there's not even an attic above this part of the house.

I'm not sure why, but I move to the window. It's like something draws me to it. I then slowly pull apart two of the blinds to look outside. I then immediately let go and step back.

There's someone in the street looking up at me. Someone standing in the middle of the street, looking up at me.

I stand back from the closed blinds, stunned at what I saw. The person was looking UP at this window. They knew I was in here, but how? I didn't even turn on the overhead light as there's enough light from the alarm clock. So how in the hell did they know I was up here?

Unable to help it I move back to the blinds, only this time I go to the other side of the window. It's dark in the bedroom, so there's no way whoever it is can see me move. I don't even cast a shadow on the window.

Peeling the blinds apart again, I dispel the idea that I imagined seeing the person as I clearly see them. There's a figure...in the street...looking up at me. Only now I can tell it's a woman. There's a streetlamp behind her, which makes her front be cast in shadow, but I see the shape of her body. It's a woman for sure.

She has long blond straight hair just like I do. And I think she even parts it right down the middle like I do. And I'm pretty sure she's white. Or at least light skinned whatever race she is. And she's dressed in a weird way as it looks like she has on very little, like short shorts and a shirt. Not the clothes you would wear out in the chilly night.

Unable to stand it any longer, I let go of the blinds and step to the side. She was still staring up at me. Even now it feels like she can see me right through the blinds and the wall. This causes a rush of cold fear to run over me, like being in a bathtub when ice cold water is turned on. It's a horrible, paralyzing fear, the sort that makes every logical thought you might have change into panic.

Why is she looking at my house? Do I know her? Did I do something to her? I have no clue who in the hell she is. And I don't remember doing anything to the point someone would get creepy.

What do I do? Call the police? If I did, what would I say? There's a woman looking at my house and it is creeping me out? Would they even come out for that? I dunno. I don't think...not unless she tries to break in or something. So what do I do?

I stand there for at least 3 or 4 minutes as I panicky think of what to do. After so much time has passed, I do the only thing I can think to do, which is to inch back to the blinds. I then use my fingers to pull apart the blinds and sneak a look in hopes that she's gone. Maybe she left knowing she scared me.

My heart sinks and a fresh wave of that paralyzing fear runs over me as I see she's not just there but she's moved closer. She's now on the sidewalk right in front of my house! And she's still looking up, right at me as if she can see me through the half-inch slot I'm looking at her through.

But that's not the worse part. Oh no. Oh hell no. With her on the sidewalk the light from my neighbor's porch light softly illuminated her face. Only her face...it's not possible.

I tell myself I'm not really seeing what I'm seeing, but that's sort of hard to do as you are looking at the thing. Instead, I tell myself that is a dream, or that I've been drugged. But it can't be real.

She has my face. MY face. The face I see every morning in the mirror.

The woman outside looks just like me. It's as if she IS me. But that's impossible. It's just not possible. Yet here I am, looking at her. It looks as if that's me out there, staring up at, well, me.

I'm unable to look away or even move as I feel my breath exit my lungs. My body becomes so scared it just shuts down and doesn't let me move at all. This clone and I stare at each other, with her emotionless gaze piercing my terrified one.

Finally, after a lifetime of being a deer stuck in the headlights, I'm able to take a breath and regain some tiny bit of sanity. To this I move away from the window. I move to the side and place my back against the wall.

I need to do something, but what? I mean, she can't be me, right? I don't have a twin or even a sibling. This has to be a trick. And it's clear that she's after me or else she wouldn't be staring at my house. What's the point? What's the purpose?

Proof. That's what I need. Proof. Proof for the police. Proof she is trying to terrorize me. Then the police can come, arrest her ass and figure what in the fuck is going on. I need to get proof. To this I get on my hands and knees and crawl as fast as I can to my bedstand to grab my cell. My fingers tremble as I tap at the screen, trying to unlock it and get it to go to video recording.

With my cell ready, I move back to the window. My heart pounds as I part open the blinds again, only this time with my cell recording. Looking at the screen I'm a bit shocked because I see nothing but the sidewalk. Confused, I lower the cell and look outside. She's gone. But where? Where did she go?

Trying to be as discreet as possible not to make that much noise or movement, I start looking around. She's not in my front yard. Not on my sidewalk. Not in the street. Not in my neighbor's yard. Not even walking away. Where in the hell did she go? No way she could have run off down the street in the few seconds I wasn't looking. Where'd the hell she go?

Is she...at my front door? Or maybe at a window? Panic begins to build as I try to remember if any window here is open. The doors for sure will be locked, but the windows? I mean, they should be. I can't remember the last time I opened one of them. They have to be locked. But that doesn't mean she can't break one to get in.

I step back from the window and face the open door as I try to listen. As if I have super-hearing, I try to listen for any sound out of the ordinary. From a low grunt of someone trying to open a locked window to the creaking of someone coming up the stairs.

Nothing. I hear nothing. I listen as closely as I can, but I don't hear anything. My fear makes the passing seconds feel like hours, but nothing happens. There's no sounds at all.

I'm not sure what I would do if I did hear something, I guess call the police. But it's not like they will teleport here or anything. It would be me and clone-lady here until they arrive.

Finding my courage, I move out of the bedroom and to the top of the stairs. I move slow as I try not to make any noise at all. When I get to the top of the stairs, I expect to see her at the bottom, looking up me. But she's not. She's not here at all.

Able to take in a deep breath, I tell myself I'm being stupid. That I most likely didn't see what I thought I saw. I mean, to see your exact image staring at you from outside your house? No way. There's a real reason it happened, no doubt a mental-related issue like from stress.

Chucking a nervous chuckle, I walk back into my bedroom. There I sit on the bed and try to calm my rapidly beating heart. I keep repeating that everything is fine, that there's no evil twin of me out there. Once I'm able to calm myself some, I scoot back on my bed.

I lay on my bed, trying to push all of that craziness out. It wasn't real. It was just something off with my brain, that's it. I'll make a doctor's appointment and get myself checked out. And like I said, it's most likely me flipping out from stress.

A hand reaches out from seemingly out of nowhere and covers my mouth, hard. Feeling the cold yet warm hand on my face makes fear that feels like stinging needles rush over all of my body. The hand then presses down as my two hands move to it. It doesn't cover my nose so I can breathe, thank goodness, but it's clear it's a warning to make sure I don't scream.

"Quiet," I hear a hissing female voice say. Upon hearing it, my body goes rigid as I've never been so scared before. My body seems to turn into stone as I can't seem to move any part of it. Like the fear really does paralyze me like snake venom.

Now a female's face comes into view from the side of the bed, as if she was hiding under my bed. She lifts up slow and deliberate, staring at me as she does.

With her up close I can see that yes, it is my face. It's my face. Complete with the small pimple on the side of my temple that I've been fighting to get rid of for several days. It really is an evil twin.

"Quiet...or pain," I hear what could be my voice say in warning. I've never really heard my voice outside of when I talk, so I'm not sure what it really sounds like. But the way it sounds out of her, it really could be my voice or close to it.

She's now standing next to my bed while bending over to keep my mouth covered. As I am able to see more of her now, I can see that she's wearing the same clothes as I am. The exact same clothes, down to the small stain on the shirt.

Feeling so very scared, I find myself nodding to show that yes, I will be quiet. When I do this, she smiles a small smile. It's a creepy little smile, like you would think a killer-child might have. Suddenly she climbs onto my bed like the demon-girl from The Exorcist. She climbs fast and crazy like until she's on top of me, straddling my hips, one of her knees on either side of me.

Now on top of me, she stares me directly in the eyes while smiling. That's all she does. Just straddles me, smiling as her eyes bore into my soul with her hand still over my mouth. Then she slowly lifts her hand off my mouth, but not by much, as if seeing what I will do. When I stay quiet, she moves it away completely but keeps staring.

"Hands...over...head," she says in a sort of broken way, as if she doesn't know English. With a whimper, I slowly start to move my arms, which feel like they weigh a hundred pounds. Going slow as to not spook her to do something bad, I lift my arms until they are over my head and resting against the headboard.

"W-What do you want?" I finally get the courage to ask. But she doesn't respond. Instead she starts to lean towards my right side. She bends while straddling me and my fear increases as I don't know what she's doing. Yet she keeps smiling at me with that evil smile, even as she leans over more and more.

She then pulls handcuffs out from nowhere. Pulls them out and holds them up by one cuff to make sure that I see them. I'm surprised by this as I wasn't expecting her to produce such an evil magic trick. Handcuffs? Where they come from? Why does she need them?

But then I really see the cuffs and my face flushes. Those are mine. That's when I know what she did. You see, about a month ago I purchased some, well, sex toys from one of those adult shops. Nothing too weird, just a small BDSM kit with stuff in it. I was so embarrassed that I did it, that I hid the few items in the box between the mattress and box spring. That's where they've been since that day.

She pulled out my own cuffs from under the mattress. But how did she know they were there? No one knows about them. No one but me! Hell, I forgot they were even there.

Is she...me? How else would she know about the cuffs? No, that can't be. Stuff like that doesn't happen. That's something for a sci-fi or horror movie. It doesn't happen in real life. This...this can't be happening. I must have been drugged or something.

Still smiling she takes a cuff in each of her hands. Then she leans forward while still making eye contact with me. She hasn't once broken eye contact with me, as if she needs it to survive. It only makes me even more terrified to the point I think I may start sobbing. But I make sure not to move a muscle as she does this.

"No, please," I beg as she snaps the cuff on my right wrist. At the sound of me talking, she hisses. She hisses like a freaking cat while still looking down at me. Suddenly she swings her right arm back and swings it at me. I cry out at this, preparing to be smacked right in the face. But she doesn't hit my face.

I cry out as she does hit me, only she smacks my boob. My left boob. Smacks the side of it hard, making it swing into the other boob as I lay here, braless. It makes a loud clap sound, even if I am wearing a shirt.

The feeling of it stuns me. Stuns me so much I go quiet and stare at her as I take in the feelings I'm having. My boob stings from the slap and it still jiggles some, but the slap didn't really hurt. My face flushes now as I make a startling realization, which is that I liked that feeling. I liked the feeling of her slapping my boob. It's something that I've always wanted to ask a lover to do to me, as I've seen BDSM videos online incorporating it, but was always too scared to look stupid to ask. I mean, what woman asks to have her boobs slapped?

By the time I snap out of it, she's snapped the other cuff on my left wrist. Only I hadn't noticed that she's snaked the chain of the cuffs to the other side of one of the metal pole within my headboard. To my horror, my hands are cuffed to the headboard.

I look up at it and my eyes grow wide. I then feel the color drain out of my face as I try to convince myself this isn't happening. No. I'm not cuffed on my own bed by a woman that looks just like me. No. I refuse to believe it. This....this doesn't happen in real life.

As I pull on my hands to test the chains, I find that I am indeed stuck to the bed. There's no way I'm going to be able to physically break the chains, nor am I going to get my wrists through the cuffs. I'm cuffed to the headboard.

I gulp as I feel that weird tingling feeling again that I had when my boob was slapped. It mixes with my fear to make me so conflicted. It's just, I never told anyone before but...I've always had a non-con fantasy. But unlike most other women, the sort that I wanted was for it to be another woman. That in the middle of a night a woman breaks in and takes what she wants from me.

But it's just a fantasy. I never really wanted it to happen. And that's why I feel so conflicted. For being cuffed to the bed was one of the many parts in my fantasy.

I whimper loudly as I feel her do something else that surprises me...which is her grabbing the bottom of my shirt and lifting. I'm not sure what I expected her to do, maybe pull a knife, or a gun or maybe a witch's book and read a spell. But not to do what she's doing right now, which is lifting my shirt up slowly, exposing my stomach.

"Please...." I whimper so softly that to call it a whisper would be to call it a yell. And then she does it...lifts my shirt over my breasts to expose them. Only now does she break eye contact with me, and that's so she can look down at my bare breasts. And when she does, she smiles even wider.

Fear is so strong in me that my body is shaking. But another part of me, some dark part feels excited. All of this combines to make my body tingle. It makes me tingle so damn bad, especially between my legs. And knowing she can see my boobs makes my face burn hot in embarrassment.

Oh no. She's pulling down my shorts now. My heart is beating so damn hard at this knowledge that I fear it might come up my throat. She's doing it slow, very slow. Showing just a tiny bit of my mound, then just a bit more. And each time she tugs more, I whimper and she chuckles. It's very clear she is loving all of this.

I yelp loudly when she suddenly jerks my shorts down violently to expose my shaved womanhood completely. She yanks them down all the way to my knees while moving her body down as she does it. It is so sudden and shocking that I just freeze and don't move.

My womanhood is exposed. She's pulled my shorts down and can see it all. She's exposed my pussy. Oh gosh. This can't really be happening. This can't be happening to me. This woman didn't just pull down my shorts.

The woman begins to chuckle. It's a very evil sounding laugh, one from a movie. It starts soft and builds and builds. And when I look down at her, I can see she's looking right at my pussy as she laughs, as if she's just won a prize.

Her laughter builds even louder as with one hand she yanks my shorts down all the way till they are off of my legs. She damn near cackles as she tosses the shorts clear across the room, knowing how scared and helpless I must feel.

That's when she looks me in the eyes again, only now my tits and pussy are completely exposed to her. I'm basically naked and helpless for her to touch and do whatever crazy thing she wants.

My chest heaves up and down as I am so very aroused and terrified. I can't deny that I am super aroused now, as horrible as it sounds. The way she looks at me, like I'm a piece of meat while naked, it's too hot to ignore. I try to not think of how aroused it makes me feel and focus on something else but I can't. The feelings I feel are too overpowering. I'm not just aroused, but I feel myself becoming wet as whatever this double of mine wants, it is sure to be sexual.

The woman who could pass as my twin stops laughing. Only her eyes move to my side and then back to my eyes. She repeats this over and over until I figure she's trying to tell me something. Despite how aroused I am, I'm not stupid and am still so incredibly scared. Whoever this chick is, she's crazy. Utterly crazy. Hell, I'm not sure she is even human.