Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Cullen Contest

Pen name: LikeMinds (a collaboration of edwardsisobel & beans827)

Title: The Duality of Man

Word Count: 18,971

Rating: M


This is the first story that we (beans827 and edwardsisobel) have collaborated on and we liked it so much we are going to keep writing as a team on occasion. We chose the name LikeMinds to reflect the eerily frequent times we came up with the same ideas even though we have never met and in fact live on different sides of the world.

We would like to thank MaggieMay14 for taking on the task of beta for this mammoth fic.

Jekyll, reflecting on mankind:

"All human beings... are commingled out of good and evil."

From Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

The beat of the techno dance music was vibrating through the dance floor until I could feel it in the very depths of my chest cavity. I stood on the fringes of the crowded club simply surveying the bodies that were gyrating to the music. I felt off for some reason. Nothing seemed to catch my attention and hold it for more than a minute or two. On a usual night, I would find the girls on the floor captivating to watch as they tried their best to ensnare an unsuspecting partner with their lithe bodies undulating to the beat. But tonight, I felt nothing. I felt lost in my own mind and couldn't concentrate on anything in particular. It was then that I felt the hair on the back of my neck prickle and it caused me to straighten to my full height. That's when I saw her.

Across the room, standing by the bar, was a woman with long, silky strawberry blond tresses, dressed in a wrap-around green dress that stopped just short of the boots that came up to her knees. She was facing the bar, but I could see her glancing towards me over her shoulder as her body slowly swayed with the music. She seemed graceful. Her lines were long and her curves were exactly where you would want them. Suddenly, my body decided the outcome of the evening and I shrugged my head towards the dance floor. She slowly turned her body in my direction and gave me a very subtle inclination of her head. I saw her say something to the chick standing next to her, but then she moved out towards the middle of the floor.

I made my way through the throng of people dancing to the fast paced beat until I met her in the middle. Slowly we came together. Even though the music was pounding and the bodies around us were practically thrashing to the song, I grabbed her by her waist and pulled her close. She looked up at me with crystal blue eyes framed by dark lashes. You could tell she had make up on but it was not overly done like many of the bimbos that paraded themselves around this kind of establishment. She had a few small freckles that danced across her nose and cheekbones and big, pouty lips that were dusted by a sweet smelling lip gloss. As I pulled her into my embrace and we started to move to a rhythm all our own, she smiled at me and fluttered her eye lashes.

I could tell that she was in the mood by the way her body melted into mine and her arms wrapped around my neck. Her fingers immediately twined into my hair and she swivelled her hips into my groin.

We swayed and moved to the music for a few minutes until I knew she was getting as turned on as I was. So, I motioned towards the door and asked her if she wanted to get out of here.

She smiled up at me again and grabbed my hand to lead me towards the exit.

We pushed our way through the crowd of partiers and practically fell out into the parking lot when someone opened the door from the outside. We skirted around the couple going into the club and I pulled her towards my car.

"So, where we going?" she asked.

"Oh, I have a few places in mind. What about you?" I smirked as my eyes travelled the length of her clingy dress and knee high boots.

"Wherever you want is good with me," she purred as I tugged her towards my car.

I held the door open for her on the passenger side and then trotted around to my side and slid into my seat. I started up the car and began to drive.

"I don't even know your name?" she mused as she reached across the center console and began to stroke my thigh.

"And I don't know yours?" I countered.

"I'm Tanya and I'm incredibly horny!" she giggled as her hand moved closer up my thigh.

"Well, it's so nice to meet you, Tanya and I'll be happy to take care of your…uh…little problem as soon as we get to my place."

Apparently Tanya had already had quite a bit to drink because she didn't even notice that I failed to give her my name. Although I was certain that I wanted to have sex with her, I was not really interested in going beyond a one night stand. After first spotting her across the bar, she seemed like she could be different from the normal bitches that threw themselves at me whenever I went out to a club. But the way she ground herself into my dick and readily agreed to leave with me after just one dance, I knew she was just like all the rest. That's when I decided that the less information I gave her; the easier it would be to just dump her ass at the end of the night.

Once we got into my apartment, I could feel the tension in my body. I decided tonight was not going to be a night of infinite foreplay and soft touches. I needed a release and I needed it soon. I don't think Tanya minded when I turned on her and slammed her against the front door while I hitched up her skirt. She was panting and I could see her eyes glazed over with lust. She began to twist her body and rub it against my aching crotch in a way that told me she would not be averse to having it hard and fast.

I quickly undid the button of my jeans and pulled my pants and boxers down only low enough that I could pull my dick out of the fabric. With my other hand, I managed to pull her dress up to her waist. She had on a fucking, tiny little thong which was easily enough pushed out of the way. I pulled her one leg up to wrap it around my hip and then just as I was about to drive home, Tanya pulled back and gasped, "Wait, wait…do you have a condom?"

FUCK! I pulled back and grabbed my jeans, pulling them back up but not bothering to button them.

"Yeah, I do. Come on." I pulled her by the arm and we stumbled into my bedroom. Again, I turned on her and yanked her towards me. I grabbed her face and began kissing first her mouth and then down her jaw while my fingers fisted her hair. Again, she began panting and small, deep moans were coming from deep within her. I stifled them with my mouth as we tumbled onto the bed. I rolled towards the nightstand and withdrew a condom from the drawer.

But then realized I had to get up to shed my pants and my shoes. As I did that, Tanya unzipped her boots and threw them on the floor before pulling her dress up and off her body. Her matching bra and thong were easily discarded and she lay back on the pillows with her strawberry blond curls falling across my pillows. It was incredibly hot to see her splayed out like that. I quickly ripped the foil packet and rolled the condom onto my throbbing dick.

She giggled as I climbed back on the bed and crawled towards her.

"What are you laughing at?" I sneered. I did not like to be the butt of anyone's jokes.

"Nothing, baby." Again, she was purring at me. "I just like seeing you on your knees. That's all."

"Oh, yeah?" I grunted as I pulled her towards me, flipping her over and spreading her legs in one quick motion. Fucking bitch, let's see how you like it on your knees, I thought as I lunged at her and drove my cock into her as deep as it would go.

She arched her back and let out a breathy gasp and then a deep moan.

"Oh, yeah, baby! That's it. Yes, please…" she begged.

"Please what, Tanya?" I grunted as I thrust into her as hard as I could. "You like it hard, don't you, cunt?"

At that, she stopped moaning and her shoulders tensed. "What did you just call me?" she managed as she twisted around to look at me over her shoulder.

"You're a cunt and you know it." I sneered as I slammed into her once again. "All you fucking whores are cunts and like it rough. Don't try to deny it."

With that she let out a low growl as she pushed her ass back at me and panted "You fucking dick." I could tell that she was pissed off but her pussy was still soaking me with her juices and she wiggled her ass as she yelled "Harder, goddamnit!" I fisted my hand into her hair and pushed her face down into the pillow in order to shut her up. I could feel her muscles starting to tighten around my cock and I knew she was about to cum.

I continued to pound into her to find the release that I was so desperately in need of while I kept her pinned beneath me. I could see her back arching and her arms clawing at the sheets on either side of the pillow. I continued to pound into her harder and harder until I could feel my balls tighten and my dick throb. As my head rolled back to enjoy the last shots of my cum spewing into her hot pussy, I took a deep breath and let go of all my tension.

Her body went slack as well and as I sat back on my heels, I rolled her over and pushed the hair off her face. It was then that I looked down at her and saw that her eyes had rolled back into their sockets, her mouth gaped open in a final silent, desperate plea and I could tell she was no longer breathing.


I woke from my slumber screaming hysterically; sweat dripping down my spine, my heart thundering in my chest with the certainty that I had done a bad, bad thing. My room was in darkness barring the sliver of light that showed under the door of my adjoining bathroom and in my panicked state, I could swear I could see misshapen shapes in the shadows of my bedroom.

This was the second time in two days that I had had this same nightmare, although tonight the bad dream had been much clearer. The night before I had been doped up on sleeping tablets and the images in my head had been more surreal, more distorted. Tonight, the images in my mind were crystal clear, like I had actually been there in the bar with the beautiful strawberry blond. I had almost felt her sliding sensuously against me on the dance floor. And then later, in the darkened bedroom as I drowned myself in Tanya's dripping pussy, all I could see was her flailing arms. Why the hell would I give the girl in my dream a name?

The nightmares were escalating to the point I suffered through my demons almost every night now without fail. I had hardly had a decent night's sleep since I had moved back to Chicago a few months ago and I knew I looked like hell. I alternated between almost no sleep when I had the nightmares to a full out comatose, sleeping pill induced numbness. Sure, the pills stopped the nightmares, but I woke up every time with heavy limbs and a foggy head, still feeling like I hadn't slept a wink. I had a gruelling enough job with extraordinarily long hours in the ER at Northwestern Memorial as it was, and I did not need this added pressure at this point in my life.

My heart had yet to slow down and my mind was still filled with the images from my nightmare. I was covered in sweat and decided to get up to take a shower before attempting to sleep again. I moved the twisted sweat soaked sheet away from my body and stood up clad only in my charcoal grey sleep pants. The material at the front was stuck to me and I shuddered in disgust when I realized that the images from my dream, although abhorrent to me, had obviously been erotic to my unconscious mind. I hadn't had a wet dream since I was a young teenage boy and I was horrified that the images I had seen running through my mind would cause such a reaction. I am such a sick fuck! Why was my mind conjuring up scenarios and images that I had never contemplated before and would never consider doing in real life?

Don't get me wrong I was by no means an angel. I had had my share of one night stands and hot, frantic sex while in medical school, but, never in my life had I had such disregard for a woman's body that I'd hurt her, nor had I ever called a woman a cunt before! See, I cringed just saying that word in my head. I loved women, a lot, and even when I was engaged in a one night stand, I made sure that it was pleasurable for her as well. In fact, there was nothing more satisfying to me than pleasing a woman. To know that because of me, she had reached her climax. I loved to watch a woman's face when she reached her petit mort, her little death. More often than not, her undoing was what brought on mine.

I removed the sticky pants gingerly and stepped under the hot, soothing spray of my shower. Long showers were my one indulgence. Well one of my few, and although I felt guilty for the water I wasted, this was just something I could not do without. The warmth and pressure from the concentrated spray of water worked out the kinks in the tensed muscles of my shoulders and ran down my spine. I grabbed a washcloth and my Calvin Klein body wash and cleaned up the remnants of my bad dream, standing under the spray until the water ran cold.

When I was dry and dressed in clean pants, I removed my sweaty sheets from the bed and replaced them with freshly washed crisp white sheets from my linen closet. I turned off the lights in my room, making sure to leave the bathroom light on before pulling the door closed, and made my way back to bed. Just like when I was a kid the tiny sliver of light provided comfort to me and assured me there were no monsters lurking in my room, only in my dreams. I slid between the cool sheets, adjusting the top of the sheet so that it lay smoothly against my body and sighed in relief. Putting everything in order helped to calm me and I felt relaxed and sleepy before the end of my nightmare catapulted its way back into my mind.

I tried not to visualize the last scene in my dream, as it was too horrific to contemplate. But the images wouldn't stop. Over and over again, I could see the bulging whites of her eyes and the black gaping hole of her mouth stretched in a perpetual silent scream. I gasped and sat up in bed again, clutching the sheets

My hands were shaking fiercely and to stop them, I grabbed handfuls of my too long hair and pulled at it, so tightly I felt the pain prick at my scalp with each tug. I felt sick to my stomach and lurched to my feet and into the bathroom, before retching up my dinner, a glass of wine, the anxiety medication I had been taking and then, finally, bile into the toilet as the scene replayed over and over in my head. I couldn't move, I was paralyzed with fear and self loathing, at what my sick mind was capable of. My dreams were usually really bad, full of drugs, kinky sex and violence. But killing someone? My unconscious mind had sunk to a new low.

I stayed in the bathroom for the rest of the night on my knees with my arms wrapped around the bowl alternatively retching bile and replaying the dream over and over in my head. I needed help. I couldn't keep going like this. Sleeping tablets weren't helping. Anxiety tablets definitely weren't helping. I was feeling more anxious every day. I was so tired all of the time that I was worried about my performance at work. It was not the type of job that you could skate by on a few hours of disturbed sleep. I was new at the hospital as well and I needed to be at the top of my game.

I remembered something Jasper had said a few weeks ago when he had been working on a particularly upsetting case involving missing children. Jasper was a cop and was dating my sister Alice, who had moved to Chicago two months ago to be closer to me. He had really struggled with all that he was exposed to on the case and had suffered some bad dreams and stress- related anxiety. He had been referred to a psychologist not too far from the hospital if I remember correctly. Jasper had said he was very impressed with the woman and I racked my brain to recall the name he had mentioned. I didn't want to call him and let him know I was suffering from some kind of breakdown. Now what the hell was her name? Something to do with birds I think. Dove...Crow...Sparrow...Swan? Swan, that sounds familiar.

The morning light was filtering through the curtains when I attempted to leave the bathroom again. I stood unsteadily and once I was assured that I would not throw up any more I made my way to my office on the other side of my apartment and powered up my laptop on the desk. I drummed my fingers against the table, impatient for the screen to appear. Once it did, I entered a search for psychologists in Chicago and sure enough there was an entry for a 'Dr. I. Swan and her office was close to the hospital. I entered the details into my cell, determined to make the call and get an appointment today during my break.

I made myself toast and coffee quickly before showering again and rushing to the hospital in time for my shift. It was a busy day as each and every day was busy here and it was a few hours before I had a moment of privacy to make the call. I ducked into the doctor's lounge which was blessedly empty, pulled out my cell and rang the number for I. Swan, Psychologist. The number rang a few times before the line was picked up and a calm, low voice introduced herself as Isabella Swan. I was surprised to be speaking directly to Dr Swan. I had expected to have to make an appointment with her via her receptionist.

Now that the time had come, I felt tongue tied with fear. I was starting to sweat and I had lost all capacity to speak.

"Hello…is there anybody there?" The cool, calm voice interrupted my panic attack.

I swallowed around what felt like an all day sucker stuck in my throat, "Hello, this is Dr Edward Cullen. I am a friend of Jasper Whitlock and he spoke very highly of you, Dr Swan. I was wondering if I could make an appointment to see you? Sooner rather than later, if that is at all possible?"

"Hello, Dr Cullen. As a matter of fact, I just had a cancellation later this afternoon. One of my patients is in the hospital unexpectedly to get his appendix removed. Is this a referral for one of your patients?"

I cleared my throat again, "Ah... no… the appointment would be for me, Dr Swan."

"Okay. Are you available to see me this afternoon then at 6pm?"

"That would suit perfectly... I finish my shift here at Northwestern at 5.30pm, so I will have no problem getting to your office in time."

I ended the call after I passed on my details to her and obtained directions to her office. Oddly, just listening to Dr Swan's calm, soothing voice made me feel much better. I wondered if that was her normal, everyday speaking voice or was it something psychologists learned in school. I replaced my cell in my pocket and poured myself a coffee as I was starting to yawn and it wasn't even lunchtime yet.

In the lounge, there was a small television, perched on a bracket on the wall, always on in the background regardless of whether anyone was there or not. I glanced up at it while waiting for the coffee machine to start and my stomach clenched at the picture of a pretty strawberry blond woman smiling at me from the screen. It was the familiar face of the blond woman who had starred in my nightmares for what felt like hours last night. I searched frantically for the remote to turn up the sound, but the newsman had passed onto the next story before I could get to the television. What the fuck?

I found the remote for the TV under a few magazines left on the table and increased the volume. I started frantically scrolling through the other television stations looking for the image of the woman again. Finally, just as I was about to give up, the story played on CBS.

"This just in, we have received information that Tanya Denali, heiress to the local Chicago hotel empire, has been reported missing by her family just a few hours ago. From all accounts, Ms Denali, who has lived in the Hyde Park area for three years, has been missing for the last two days. The last known person to see Ms Denali, the doorman at her apartment building, recounted that Ms Denali had told him as she left the apartment 2 nights ago that she was on her way to go clubbing with friends. Family became concerned when Ms Denali missed her father's birthday celebration last night at Custom House. So far, the only comment from the Chicago Police Department is that they are speaking to known friends of Ms Denali's to ascertain where she was and who she was with on the evening in question. We will bring you up-to-date news on this breaking story as it becomes available."

Tanya Denali was the woman in my nightmare. The woman who apparently lived in the same part of town as I and the woman I had dreamt that I had fucked and suffocated.

I barely made it to the staff bathroom adjoining the doctor's lounge before I again lost the contents of my stomach. In a complete daze, I wiped my lips and staggered over to the basin to rinse my mouth out. I looked into the mirror and blanched. My normal profile was gone. Instead, a wild eyed, slack jawed spectre peered back at me, the images in the mirror fading in and out, the bright fluorescent lights blinding me. I closed my eyes and I could still see the lights but this time they were pinpoints glaring forward through a dark night, I was in a car, the trees flashing past me. Then everything went black and I felt a sharp pain against my temple and then nothing.

Jekyll, highlighting his lack of control over Hyde:

"I was slowly losing hold of my original and better self, and becoming slowly incorporated with my second and worse."

From Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

I finally fell into the recliner in my sparsely furnished living room and flipped on the TV for some mindless chatter to occupy my brain. I still felt fuzzy from the events of the last few days but about one thing, I was absolutely certain…I had killed the bitch from the nightclub.

As I was about to click the TV off and head out for some food, I noticed that the news had come on and a picture of Tanya sat perched behind the news anchor's shoulder. I quickly turned up the volume of the TV just in time to hear him say that Tanya Denali, the daughter and heiress of the Denali hotel chain was missing and had last been seen on Friday night at Eclipse, a nightclub in downtown Chicago. The police were in the process of questioning several friends of Ms. Denali, one of which was with her at the club that night.

I ran my fingers through my thick hair and down my face trying to clear the fog that still seemed to surround my thoughts. What the fuck? Tanya was a fucking heiress? FUCK! That was really going to complicate matters. I had obviously heard of her family and knew they were really wealthy and held a lot of power in the city of Chicago. I also knew that the police would be hell bent on finding her. DAMN! Why had I let things get so out of hand? I knew in the past that I had enjoyed some pretty perverse pleasures but the adrenaline that had coursed through my veins when I rolled her over and realized what I had done, was so satisfying; I had practically wept with the release I felt. This was not just the normal physical relief I usually felt from getting my rocks off. No, it was more like a total mental cleansing of my normally fucked-up brain. It felt so emotionally gratifying if that is even possible for a sick fuck like me.

However, once the euphoria had faded, almost as if I were coming down from the best fucking trip of acid I had ever taken, I realized I was in a shit load of trouble. I had to get her out of my apartment as quickly as possible and find some place to dump her body. I chuckled at the reminder; that was exactly what I had wanted to do the minute she climbed into my car. Little did I know how prophetic my thoughts would turn out to be?

I figured getting rid of her in the middle of the night would be my best opportunity to do so undetected, so as soon as I took a shower and pulled on some clean clothes, I wrapped her body in the sheets from my bed. I threw her up onto my shoulder and carried her out to the trunk of my car. The street light in the parking lot had been burnt out for at least the last six months, and since the fucking landlord never did any type of maintenance around the shithole place that I lived, I knew I could make it out to my car undetected. Once I deposited her in the trunk, I hopped in, started it up and pulled out of the parking lot and headed north. I knew no one would find it odd that I was going out since it wasn't unusual for me to be coming and going at all hours.

I decided I would dump her in the forest of the nature preserve that my parents used to take me to as a kid where we would ride our bikes along the miles of bike trails. I snickered at the irony of dumping a corpse less than ten minutes from my fucking father's house. If only he knew what a fine, young man I had become. Again, I thought the irony was fucking classic. I knew there was a little known back entrance to the park on Hillside Road off of U.S. 14. The road ends at the edge of the forest preserve and I knew I could park there and enter through a spur trail into some pretty dense trees. I figured that it would be days before anyone would find the body and if I was really lucky, with the threat of snow in the forecast, there was a chance that they might not find her until the fucking spring thaw. That would give me plenty of time to figure my shit out and possibly hit the road.

My mind finally came back to the present and I groaned as I realized I was starving and would probably have to go out to get something to eat since I didn't have any thing in the fucking fridge. After turning the TV off, I ran my hands over my face and up into my hair where I yanked at it in frustration trying to remember if anyone had been with Tanya at the bar. I had a vague memory of Tanya whispering to a dark haired girl before she came over to dance with me but I was pretty fucking certain the chick had not turned around. Fuck! This was not good, not good at all.


Through my closed eyelids, I could sense colours and shapes moving. I tried to open my eyes but everything was a blur and all I could hear was a buzzing in my ears. Slowly, things started to take shape and I could hear voices calling to me as if from a distance.

"Dr Cullen, can you hear me? What happened in here? Edward, can you tell us what happened?"

Edward? Who the fuck is Edward? Why were they fucking calling me Edward when my name was Anthony? All the lights faded away again and I was left in blessed darkness where the pain seemed to go away.

I came too slowly, blinked to clear the fog from my eyes, blinked again and saw one of my colleagues, Angela Webber, leaning over me taking my vitals. My head hurt like fucking hell and I could feel the sticky dribble of blood running down my cheek. I wiped it off with my coat sleeve and looked up at Angela, wondering what the hell had happened to me. Why was I on the bathroom floor, my head split open and fucking blood streaming down my face?

My blessed memory loss did not last long, unfortunately, and the images that had flashed through my head a few moments ago when I was knocked out flooded my brain. A dingy apartment that looked strangely familiar from previous dreams, lugging something heavy down the stairs to my car, and then the drive through the dark wooded area close to where I had lived when I was a child up until my family had moved to Seattle when I was 10 or so. I felt like I was going to be sick but I swallowed convulsively and started to get up. Angela put her hand on my shoulder and told me to wait, then she called over the male nurse I spied at the door to assist me.

I was still feeling numb and out of it, so I meekly followed Angela as Mark, the nurse, helped me to a spare bed in the triage area of the E.R. Angela questioned me again about what had happened. I gave her a vague answer of how I had not been sleeping well lately and that I had had a migraine headache so I assumed I had blacked out from the pain and knocked my head on the basin edge as I fell. Angela seemed to accept what I told her, saying that it made sense. I sighed in relief about not having to go into detailed explanations for the mess of my life.

After Angela had cleaned my wound and stitched me up, and I had come back from getting an X-ray, she told me that I was not working the rest of my shift. She gave me a pill to help with the migraine and shooed me over to the on-call room. I gratefully sunk onto one of the cots provided and passed out, dead tired and aching all over. My mind stayed clear of my dreams thankfully and I actually felt refreshed for the first time in weeks when I woke to the sound of my watch beeping at me. I had set the alarm on it for 5pm to get up and have a shower before I headed over to my appointment.

I was beginning to regret making it now. What the hell was I going to say to Dr Swan? I have been having horrific dreams for months and for the last two nights I have dreamt of killing a girl who I found out a few hours ago is not only real but who is currently missing? Was I suddenly psychic or something, like that blonde girl from that show that solved crimes for the police because she could see dead people? I felt relief that Dr Swan was covered by doctor-patient confidentiality and couldn't just call the police because she thought I was a killer and turn me in.

I had a quick shower in the bathroom adjoining the doctor's lounge and dressed quickly, making sure everything about me was in perfect order. I smoothed down the buttons on my shirt and adjusted the collar. I fiddled with the cuffs on my sleeves so that the crease aligned perfectly on both. I smoothed down my trousers and took out the lint brush from my locker and brushed them down. I took out the rag and buffed my shoes so that they shone and styled my messy hair artfully so that every hair was in its rightful place.

I grabbed my wallet and keys from my locker and decided to walk to the psychologist's offices as I had a little bit of extra time. The air outside was crisp and I enjoyed the walk down the tree lined streets until I reached the row of brownstone buildings that lined the street where she kept her office. I found the brownstone that had a small placard hanging on the front door that proclaimed it to be the Office of Dr. Isabella Swan. I stepped into the small foyer and noticed that it also appeared to be Dr. Swan's residence as well since just a small front section had been converted into an office which was blocked off from the rest of the house.

I was still a few minutes early for my appointment so the grey haired receptionist, whose nameplate proclaimed her to Mrs Cope, directed me to a comfortable chair and handed me a form to provide some personal details. My hands were shaking so much, sitting there in the waiting room, that I was having difficulty filling out the forms, even my name Edward Anthony Masen Cullen looked like a five year old had written it. I can't recall ever being so unsettled in my life. These nightmares about people I had never met, places I had never been to and the random acts of violence were seriously scaring me and now finding out that I had possibly witnessed a murder through my dreams? I just didn't understand what was happening to me. Before I moved to Chicago, I had led a pretty quiet life, busy with studying and long hours at work. Nothing I had ever done compared to the depravity I was seeing in my nightmares.

I had just completed the form when the door opened to the inner office and an older gentleman exited saying that he would be back same bat time, same bat channel next week. He seemed happy. That was a good sign right?

He moved out of the way and I almost gasped in shock at my first sight of Dr Isabella Swan. I was expecting an older woman in her early fifties, a little like Dr Freeman, from that TV show Two and a Half Men. Instead, Dr Swan was in her mid to late twenties and she was very pretty with chocolate-colored hair and smoky brown eyes. I was instantly drawn to her and if I had met her out, I would probably have asked her for a date. Dr. Swan was dressed reasonably conservatively but there was something very striking about her. She wore black pumps and sheer smoky stockings encasing the most delicate ankles I had ever seen. Her skirt was slim fitting with a pleated hem that kicked out just below her knees. Tucked into the black skirt was a crisp white pintucked blouse and she was wearing tortoiseshell glasses.

She reminded me of the quintessential movie librarian, the one that is all prim and proper by day but when work finishes, she lets down her hair, takes off her glasses and she transforms into a stunning, sexy woman. I flicked my eyes to hers and blushed when I realized that she had caught me checking her out.

She smiled at me and ushered me into her office. I followed her and mentally chastised myself about the fact that even though I was about to spill my guts to this woman, I had been able to forget all the craziness that was happening in my life for a minute and appreciate the looks of a beautiful woman Unfortunately, one that was out of bounds now anyway as she was now my doctor and I was automatically barred from pursuing a relationship with her.

Her voice was soothing as we commenced the session and I found myself telling her everything and holding nothing back. How did she do that? I was a very private person and never revealed much of myself to people, even those I had known forever or women I had been in relationships with. Of course she wanted to know the reason for my visit and I explained to her about the very vivid nightmares that had been plaguing me since I had moved to Chicago. How they were of someone doing all sorts of drugs, kinky sex acts and my last dream when a girl was smothered while having sex. I told her about seeing the girl that I had dreamt about killing on TV today and she was now listed as a missing person.

Dr Swan encouraged me to expand on the dreams, she let me talk and talk, and never interrupted, just nodding her head to encourage me to keep going, and so I did. She did stop me once to ask whether in my dreams, I was looking down and watching the person who was doing all of these things or whether I was in the place of the person. I went back over each dream again and, in every one, it was as if I was actually the person doing the actions.

Dr Swan asked me if I thought it was me in these dreams doing these things. My stomach clenched. I had wondered that but I was pretty sure it was someone else's thoughts going through my mind. I told her that it felt like someone else and I was just in their head, particularly as the person in my dream referred to things that did not match up to my life. The dreams took place in places I had never been to. The person drove a different car than I did and in the vision today, the person whose head I seemed to be in was happy that he had dumped the body near his father's house and seemed very angry with him. My father lived in Seattle so I felt fairly certain it wasn't me.

She then asked the question I was dreading. Had I been taking any drugs or pills since I had been in Chicago? I manned up and confessed that my marijuana intake had increased substantially since I had moved. I had smoked all through med school but had pretty much stopped. However, the move had stressed me and so I started up again and tended to smoke a joint every night when I got home from the hospital in an effort to calm my nerves. I also told her about the anti-anxiety pills and the sleeping pills. Dr Swan nodded and wrote some more into her journal. She then asked me whether I had seen an earlier news bulletin about the girl before I had had the dream. I told her that I didn't think so but that I hadn't been sleeping well and it could have been possible.

Dr Swan then asked about my relationship with my parents and I told her that I had been adopted as a newborn baby after my mom had been seriously injured in a car accident and had subsequently died after giving birth. She nodded and then asked about my relationships with women. I told her things I had never told anybody. My fears of getting too close to people, especially women, the fear I had that if I let anybody in, they would see the real me and then leave me, once they realized that I wasn't anybody special.

I had barely looked at her through my diatribe of issues so when I glanced at her, I was expecting to see a look of disgust on her face for the psycho idiot babbling on. I was relieved to see the concerned expression in her eyes for me.

"So," I said tentatively, "am I completely crazy? Am I ready for the loony bin?" I was only half joking. She didn't smile at my half-assed attempt at humor but instead leaned over to me and patted my hand.

"Don't worry so much, Edward, we'll sort this out together over a few sessions. You have been under a lot of stress at work, moved and you would be surprised how many people have underlying issues stemming from adoption that surface at these times. Try to relax before going to bed and don't take any stimulants for a while, okay? Hopefully this will help with your disturbed sleeping patterns. I have another patient waiting for me now, so we are unable to continue today, but I think we need to get to the bottom of these violent dreams you are having. Are you available to see me twice more this week? We can see how that goes before scheduling appointments for next week. Okay?"

I nodded my head but couldn't erase the embarrassment I felt at the major spilling of my guts. I made my way out of her room and out to make the necessary appointments with Mrs Cope. As I walked out of the reception, Dr Swan came to her door and called in her next patient. As she turned and smiled at me, her perfume wafted around me and I left the office with the scent of freesias on my mind.

I walked back to the hospital to get my car, drove home, made myself a simple sandwich and lay on my bed, my mind filled with thoughts of Dr. Isabella Swan. Her sweet smile, the prim buttoned up skirt and blouse, her eyes that looked at me with so much compassion and understanding like no other woman had ever done before. Her hair all businesslike in that loose bun and the smell of her perfume which still pervaded my nostrils even as my eyes fluttered closed and I drifted off into sleep to dream of her.


"If each, I told myself, could but be housed in separate identities, life would be relieved of all that was unbearable; the unjust might go his way, delivered from the aspirations and remorse of his more upright twin; and the just could walk steadfastly and securely on his upward path, doing the good things in which he found his pleasure, and no longer exposed to disgrace and penitence by the hands of this extraneous evil"

From Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

I could see her sitting in the chair opposite me with her dainty little legs crossed as she wrote things down in a journal balanced in her lap. Her hair was pulled up into a haphazard bun and she had cute little glasses perched at the end of her nose. I noticed her beautiful brown eyes right away and couldn't help but admire the way her shirt clung to her perky little breasts. She was sexy as hell and I couldn't help but think I'd do her in an instant except that something just wasn't right. I heard myself telling her about all the fucked up things I had done recently and then I went even so far as to tell her about killing that bitch, Tanya. She just sat there and nodded as she made notes in her book, but every time she glanced up at me, all I could see was a look of pity in her eyes.

With that, I jerked myself awake and sat up in bed. The memory of my dream came back to me and I groaned in frustration. I dragged my hands over my face to wipe it away but I could not shake the feelings. I could still see the cute little brunette looking over at me but I could also feel the pity rolling off her in waves. I could still see the look on her face as I confessed to killing Tanya. I couldn't stand the look she gave me. I hated that look because it made me think of her and trust me when I say;I didn't want to think about her. I couldn't think about her. It just hurt too fucking much.

I rolled out of bed and staggered into the bathroom. It was still pretty early and I had absolutely no where that I had to be, so I considered going back to bed. But I didn't want to have that fucking dream again, so I decided to head out to the all night diner on the corner for some coffee and maybe a bite to eat. I knew the place would be dead at this time of the morning and I thought it would give me a quiet place to think about what I needed to do. It had snowed a bit over the last couple of days, but not enough to hide the body so I knew it was just a matter of time until they found Tanya in the woods where I had dumped her. I was still concerned that someone from the bar may have seen me leave with her, so I figured I would probably need to leave the city before too long.

I pulled on a t-shirt and some jeans and stuffed my feet into a pair of Converse. I found my wallet in the pocket of my jacket and pulled that on as I walked out the door. It was like fucking 8 degrees outside so I decided to take the car rather than walk the block. Since it was still early, I knew there wouldn't be a problem with parking. I made my way to the diner and pulled into the lot behind the building. As I came around to the front, I saw a couple of people leaving. I looked in through the windows and the place was empty except for one lone waitress who was standing by the cash register.

The bell over the door clanged as I walked in. The waitress looked up at me and offered me a "Morning!" with a smile. She was a young girl, maybe early twenties, with long brown hair and big brown eyes. I stopped for a minute to take her in and it occurred to me that she reminded me of the cute thing in my dream.

I smiled back as I straddled the stool at the counter. I pulled the menu from behind the condiments stacked at the edge of the counter and looked it over as she came towards me.

"Can I get you some coffee?" she asked as she wiped off the place in front of me with the dirty rag she held in her hand.

"That'd be nice. And how about two eggs scrambled on toast and a side of bacon?" I purred back at her.

"Sure, no problem," she said as she moved towards the opening in the wall that went through to the kitchen. "Harry, two chicks on a raft – wreck 'em and a side of bacon," she called out as she filled out the order pad in her hand.

"Sure 'nuff, Sally. Coming right up." I heard from the kitchen as a small, black man poked his head through the opening. He glanced over at me and smiled so I nodded back at him.

Sally came back towards me with a full coffee cup in her hands and placed it down in front of me as she pushed a bowl of creamers at me.

"So, what's got you out so early on a frigid morning like this?" she asked in a friendly voice.

"Oh, I don't know…couldn't sleep, I guess." I answered looking down at my hands that were tented in front of me on the counter. I guess she could tell that I was not really interested in making small talk because she looked at me for a minute, let out a small 'huff' causing her bangs to fly upas if I was irritating her and then moved back to where she had been perched by the register.

"Order up!" Harry yelled from the back as he pushed a plate through the opening.

Sally walked over and pulled the plate down, grabbed a set of silverware wrapped in a napkin and put it down in front of me. "Let me know if you need anything else," she said as she walked away with a shrug. I could tell that she was hoping for some conversation to break up her dull morning, but I just couldn't be bothered. In fact, the more I looked at her, I could feel the tension flowing through my limbs and making me agitated. Who the fuck does she think she is? She's just a goddamn waitress at the corner diner and she's giving ME attitude. I'm getting so sick of these bitches who think they're so much better than me.

The thoughts running through my head made the eggs stick in my throat and I became nauseous just trying to choke them down. Again, a picture of the girl in my dream with her brown eyes full of pity came flooding back to me and then I looked over at the waitress who was just sort of glaring at me from her post by the register. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to get out of that diner before the anger I felt welling up in me came flowing out. I gulped down the rest of my coffee, pulled my wallet out of my jacket and threw down a couple of bucks to cover the cost. I stood up and headed for the door.

The princess walked over to my plate and grabbed the wad of cash I had left there. As I pulled open the door to walk out, I heard her mutter "Dick!" under her breath but loud enough so that I would hear it. I walked back to my car and slid into the driver's seat as I slammed my hands on the steering wheel. I could feel the aggression building up in me in waves. I knew I needed a release and I thought back to the moments after killing Tanya. I could remember how good it had felt once I had released all that pressure that was inside of me. I knew that I could make that happen again and as I looked up and saw the back door of the diner opening, I knew just what I needed to do.

I saw Sally coming out as she was pulling her jacket on over her shoulders and I heard her yell back into the kitchen "See ya tomorrow, Harry." I sunk down low in the front of my car and watched her walk over towards what I assumed was her car. She opened the lock and got in. I heard her start up her engine and I could imagine her sitting there waiting for the heat to defrost the windows so I too started my car but did not turn the lights on to alert her to my presence.

After a few minutes, she pulled out of the lot and headed towards the highway. I was easily able to follow her at a safe distance because she had no idea I was even there. She pulled into an apartment complex not far from the diner and I decided I would need to make my move quickly. I pulled in next to her and jumped out of the car and walked around behind mine so that I was next to her when she opened her car door.

"Hey, Sally," I said as she got out of her car. She jumped a little at the sound of my voice but she quickly recovered and smiled at me.

"Hey, yourself. What are you doing here?" she asked, looking across the empty parking lot to see if anyone else was around.

"Well, I felt bad that I didn't leave you much of a tip at the diner so I thought maybe we could go out together for a drink so that I could make it up to you?"

"At six o'clock in the morning? I'm all for a drink now and then, but not at six o'clock in the a.m." She said as she rolled her eyes and threw her scarf up around her neck.

I moved closer to her and carefully pushed a strand of her hair off her face. She was startled by my proximity and took a step back. "Well, how about a coffee then?" I tried.

"Coffee? You've got to be kidding me? I work at a diner, remember? I've had enough coffee to float the Titanic. How about you just leave me alone and let me go to bed. I've been up all night and I'm not in the mood to listen to your slick talk, mister. Just go away!"

Again with the attitude. This time, it wasn't just irritation or anger I felt. It was full blown rage. How dare she talk to me like that! Who the fuck does she think she is anyway? I could feel it come from deep inside me as I lunged forward and grabbed her around her neck. She opened her mouth to scream but I slammed her body onto the pavement between the two cars and only a muffled "Hmmmmph" came from her. I rolled her over so that I could straddle her torso and I tightened my hands around her throat.

"You think you're such a catch, don't you? You're nothing but a filthy little slut who thinks she can put on goddamned airs. You think you're so high and mighty and you're not. You're just like all the other whores. You're just like her; that goddamned bitch that left me." I could hear sobs coming from somewhere and I felt dampness on my face but I couldn't stop what I was doing to pay it any attention. My hands just kept compressing on her throat as she clawed at them with her gloved hands to get me to release her. I watched in fascination as her eyes rolled back in her head and her face turned red. Slowly her body went limp and when I released her throat, there was no gasp for air. She was gone. I had done it again.


This time when I woke up, I didn't even make it to the bathroom to spew up the sandwich I had eaten the night before. My covers were now bathed in vomit and I was hunched over in bed, my hands clasped to my throbbing head trying to get the final images of Sally, the brunette waitress, and her death throes out of my brain. The stench of the vomit turned my stomach and I had to get out of bed and clean up. I grabbed the covers, strode to my laundry room and threw them straight into the washing machine.

It was 9am and I was in the shower trying to wash away the after-effects of yet another nightmare. I was distressed at the horrifying turn my nightmares had taken yet again after I had gone to sleep. At first when I lay in bed, I had had lingering thoughts of Isabella Swan and how much more relaxed and composed I felt after talking to her. She had calmed my nerves and placed my worries about the nightmares in perspective with all the changes in my life. I had gone to sleep feeling confident that I would make it through the night undisturbed. How wrong I had been. It had been the worst nightmare yet!

I had mostly taken her advice and had an early night. I did, however, take a couple of hits from a joint, a habit I found a little harder to break this time than I thought. Once I was asleep though, my thoughts of Dr Swan had turned into an irreverent cataloguing of her charms. I admit I was attracted to her as soon as she walked into the room but not in a lascivious way. It was more an appreciation of her beauty. In my dreams, though, I was checking out her tits, her ass and had imagined what it would be like to fuck her, and fuck her hard. I could hear the thoughts as clear as day in my head but it didn't sound like me, it felt like someone was seeing Dr Swan through my eyes and giving me his low-down dirty version of what he was thinking.

And what the hell was up with the pity party going on in my head and who the hell was this woman who had left me. No one had left me; it was always me that ended any relationship I had been in. My nightmare just did not make sense. I mean, I hadn't felt like Dr Swan pitied me at the time. I had felt her compassion and understanding and desire to help me.

Why was I concocting a life outside my own mind? In my dreams, it's as if I lived in a different apartment, drove a different car and had a different attitude to life and women in particular. Was I actually psychic all of a sudden? Could I be seeing inside the demented mind of a killer? Or worse, was it really me? But how the hell was that possible? I got out of the shower and stared at myself in the mirror. I looked even worse than I had yesterday if that was at all possible, even though I had slept a good twelve hours. Thank God, I had another appointment to see Dr Swan early tomorrow morning before my shift started.

I had a late shift starting today at noon and after having a slice of toast and coffee for breakfast; I decided to leave for work early to make up for yesterday's disaster.

I was almost to the hospital parking garage when I turned on the radio to listen to the weather forecast when the 10am news bulletin came on. The first news item was an update on the Tanya Denali case. The newscaster announced that the detectives had confirmed that Denali's last known whereabouts was at a club called Eclipse, a nightclub in downtown Chicago. The police were in the process of questioning several friends of Ms. Denali, one of which was with her at the club that night. The newscaster went on to say that police were working with several patrons of the nightclub to get an identikit picture of the man she was last seen with which they hoped to release to the public later today.

I felt relief flood through me since I knew that I had never been to a nightclub called Eclipse. I realized if they did come out with a sketch of the man who was with her, I may finally get to see the person who was floating around in my head. And I fervently hoped that once he was caught, maybe my nightmares would cease and I could get back to normal.

I angled my car into my designated parking spot and almost missed the next news item about a woman who had just been found in the parking lot of her apartment building, strangled and left lying beside her car. The young woman had been identified as Sally Harper, a waitress who worked at an all night diner downtown called the Twilight Zone. Miss Harper's employers confirmed that she had left work just before 6 am this morning and her roommate had found her at 8:12 am when she had come down to the parking lot on her way to work. Police were interviewing both the staff and the patrons of the diner as well as tenants in the apartment complex for information.

My hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly, my knuckles were white. I felt my breakfast rise up my throat and for the second time this morning, I vomited the contents of my stomach. Luckily, I had the presence of mind to open my car door and the vomit landed on the concrete floor.

I sat there in my car for what felt like hours, but was really only minutes, replaying my dream over and over trying to work out if it could possibly be me that was doing all these horrible things. I shook my head, I was certain it was someone else in my head. Someone called Anthony although I was not sure why I knew that. Weird…Anthony was my middle name. Carlisle and Esme hadn't given me a middle name when I was adopted and I think I chose it myself when I was about 6 or so and they had formalized it soon after. I had always thought that it was the name I had given to my imaginary playmate, since I had been a solitary little boy.

I glanced at my watch and saw that some time had passed. I needed to get to work if I didn't want to be late, so I reluctantly sidestepped the pool of my stomach contents and ran to the staff entrance at the hospital. The day was busy, with a multi-vehicle accident and an unusually high number of drug overdoses. I had no time to even take a break for which I was grateful. I did not want to think about my own life at all today.

I took a shower when my shift ended and changed into the set of clean clothes I kept in my locker. I had been vomited on at least twice and was covered in blood spatter from various incidents throughout the day. I grabbed a bottle of cold water from the fridge in the doctor's lounge and exchanged vague pleasantries with Angela Webber who had her feet up and was watching the TV, when suddenly she stiffened and leaned closer to the screen.

I glanced at the screen and saw with trepidation that it was an update on the Tanya Denali case. The police detectives on the case had spoken with a number of witnesses and the police artist had worked up a drawing of a person of interest last seen with Ms Denali. The image flashed up on the screen and I gasped in shock. There on the screen was a black and white drawing of a man's face and the news anchor continued to say that the police were looking for a man in his late twenties with dark, reddish colored hair. Fucking hell, they were looking for me.

I glanced down at Angela and she was shaking her head, when she looked up at me with a wry look on her face. "Those police identikits are so useless, a chin from one picture, eyes from another. I don't know how they ever catch anyone with those things. This picture even looks a little like you, Edward. Maybe you have an evil twin out there somewhere!" she chuckled.

I laughed, but inside my gut was twisted and my mind felt fractured. All I could see were the whites of Tanya Denali's dead eyes and the dark bruises from my fingers wrapped around the throat of Sally Harper. I mumbled some excuse about being late for an appointment and ran from the hospital as if the hounds of hell were after me.

I sat in my car in the garage for 2 hours going over and over all of my nightmares. It was me doing all those things, but how? I didn't remember doing them, just dreaming about them and waking up in my own bed. There was no way I was sleeping tonight. If I didn't sleep, I wouldn't dream and no-one else would die. I was seeing Dr Swan at 8am in the morning and she would fix it. I knew she could fix anything.

I drove home as if in a daze, had a bit to eat and then raided my bathroom cabinet for the box of no-doze I kept when I knew I'd be pulling a double shift at the hospital. I popped a couple and readied myself in front of the TV to watch the scheduled programs and I had a couple of DVDs on hand if I got bored. I was determined I would remain awake all night and then go straight to Dr Swan's office for our appointment. A fool proof plan I thought. No one is going to die tonight.

I watched the news on and off but after seeing picture after picture of the missing and murdered girls continually flashing up on the screen, it finally got to be too much and I started to watch the DVDs. I watched that vampire movie that the teenage girls went crazy over. It was okay. I didn't watch any thrillers. I watched a couple of action movies and the explosions from Transporter 3 were the last thing I remember before my eyes drifted closed and my head hit the cushion.


"It was on the moral side, and in my own person, that I learned to recognize the thorough and primitive duality of man; I saw that, of the two natures that contended in the field of my consciousness, even if I could rightly be said to be either, it was only because I was radically both; and from an early date . . . I had learned to dwell with pleasure, as a beloved daydream, on the thought of the separation of these elements."

From Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

Again, I was up early and I couldn't get back to sleep. I had stayed up half the night watching the different CNN newscasters discussing the disappearance of Tanya Denali as well as the death of Sally Harper. Apparently, the cook at the diner had gotten a better look at me than I thought and, after seeing the police sketch of the suspected kidnapper of Tanya, he had contacted the police and they were now connecting the two crimes and looking for me.

Fucking hell! I thought. I really needed to get out of here and fast. In fact, since I knew I wouldn't be getting any more sleep, I decided to grab some of my shit and get on the road. There was nothing in my apartment that I considered important so I simply stuffed a few pairs of jeans, some boxers and a few flannel shirts into a duffel bag and headed out.

I threw the bag into the trunk and started driving. I decided to head down Michigan Avenue since it was still early and there would be hardly any traffic on the road at this hour of the morning. I was desperate for some fucking caffeine to get me going and I figured I could hit the Starbucks that I knew was on the corner of Michigan and East Grand.

As I sat at the light waiting to turn onto Grand to pull into the Starbucks, I watched a pretty, young girl jog across the intersection in front of me and up to the door of the coffee shop. Nice piece of ass, I thought as I pulled into the parking lot and jumped out.

I walked into Starbucks and noticed her standing at the counter. Even though she was relatively short compared to my 6'1" and stood only as tall as my chin and most of her body was hidden under a pair of baggy sweatpants and a huge hooded sweatshirt, I could still easily imagine what she would look like without any clothes on due to my overly active perverted imagination. As I stood behind her, I let my mind wander to how good it would be to tap that fine, little ass as I wrapped my hands into her long ponytail and yanked her head back so that I could bite her luscious neck.

Shaking my head to clear it from its lusting thoughts, I watched as she studied the menu above the counter.

"Can I help you?" the girl behind the counter finally asked.

"Well, yes, I need a couple of coffees," she started. After seeing the chick behind the counter roll her eyes, she sputtered "Well, I guess that's kind of obvious, isn't it?" She looked embarrassed now as she fidgeted with the keys in her hand and lowered her head to look at her shoes.

"Can I just get a Cinnamon Dulce Frappuccino, a Caffe Americano and a Skinny Caramel Latte? To go, please," she said softly when she looked back up at the cashier and handed over her debit card.

I almost groaned out loud at the time it was going to take to fill this sweet little bitch's order. I knew it would take fucking forever with just the one douchebag behind the counter moving at practically a snail's pace.

As the girl walked away to begin making the three frilly-assed coffees, the brunette turned around and glanced up at me.

"I'm sorry. I should have let you go ahead…" she started but then stopped when she was looking directly up at me. "Edward?"

I looked over my shoulder to see if she was talking to someone behind me even though I was pretty sure I was the only other person in the place.

"No, I'm not Edward, sweetheart, but if that's the name you want to call out while I'm fucking your brains out, I'm game!" I purred at her using my most seductive voice.

Her eyes shot up to mine and her face turned crimson. "What? Oh my God, that was so incredibly vulgar! How can you even say that? I'm sorry but I thought you were someone else. You look just like a patient of mine."

"A patient, huh?" I asked nonchalantly as I leaned into her personal space a little more, aching to reach out and touch her smooth, pale cheek. "Are you sure you don't mean 'a client'?" I couldn't help the smile that broke across my face at the look of sheer horror on her face. I didn't think it was really possible for a person to turn the color of fucking beets if I wasn't seeing it right in front of my very own eyes.

She started to stammer and stutter some more as the chick behind the counter said her order was ready. She quickly stepped up to grab the carry-out tray that held the three cups of coffee and she darted for the door.

I decided to forego the coffee for the moment so I followed her out the door.

"Hey, wait a minute." I called after her.

"I'm sorry. You look very similar to a patient of mine but I'm obviously very mistaken. You could not possibly be him. He would never speak to anyone in that manner."

"I'm sorry too, sweetheart. I was just kidding. Can't you take a joke?" I wanted to lighten her up a bit so I held out my hands with my palms up and gave her my most engaging smile. I knew that most women considered it a panty soaker.

"I can take a joke, most definitely, but that was not funny in the least. Listen, I have to be going. It was nice meeting you but I really have to go." She quickly cut off any chance I had to make more small talk by walking quickly back to the intersection that she had come across.

Well, FUCK ME! I thought. I'm not letting that hot little thing get away that easily. I jumped into my car, started it up but waited at the exit to the parking lot for a few minutes as I watched her walk across the street and up to the next corner. Once she had turned the corner, I pulled out and followed after her. As I pulled around the same corner, I saw that she had run up the steps of a tall brownstone townhouse and was using her keys to let herself in. I drove down her street and was glad to see she looked very preoccupied and didn't seem to notice my car as it passed. I pulled into a parking lot of the school down the block and turned my engine off. I decided to get out and walk down the block to scope things out.

As I neared the front of her townhouse, I noticed the placard on the door proclaiming it to be the office of Dr. Isabella Swan, Psychologist and that's when it hit me. I knew that face. I could see it as plain as day. She was the one in my dream. The one that I had told about killing Tanya. The one who had looked at me like I was such a fucking pathetic sap.

I jumped up the brick steps, taking two at a time. When I got up to her front door, I grabbed the door knob and turned it. I was pleasantly surprised when it turned in my hand, so I slowly pushed it open and stepped into the small foyer. I waited quietly by the door, listening for any sign that there were others in the house beside little Isabella. I could hear her footsteps towards the back of the house but she wasn't talking to anyone so I figured that was a good sign that she was alone.

I could see that her office space was to the left but to the right was a hallway that appeared to lead to the back of the house. I quietly crept down it until I could see her moving around the kitchen area.

"Emmett, it's Bella." I took a deep breath waiting to see who she was talking to when I figured she must be on the phone since I didn't hear a response. As I watched, she turned her head and I could see the cell phone in her hand.

"I think I may have a lead on the Denali case. I was planning on bringing over a new patient's file to the station first thing this morning. The patient is a Dr. Edward Cullen, who I think may be suffering from a split personality disorder. He fits the identikit picture to a T. I am even more certain now of my diagnosis. While I was out on my jog earlier, I stopped to get you and Jasper a coffee when I ran into someone who looked very much like Edward Cullen but acted like he didn't have a clue who I was. I've got to jump in the shower, but I'll meet you at your office in twenty minutes."

As she snapped the phone closed, I walked up until I was standing directly behind her. "I'm really curious about this Edward guy now," I growled into the back of her neck.

She screamed as she turned around towards me and I quickly put my hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. Her eyes grew very wide and she tried to push me away. But I pinned her against the counter and wrapped my free hand around her with crushing intensity.

"Oh no, you don't, my sweet. We need to have a little chat and I need you to be still. I would not want to have to hurt you after all. I just want a little information. That's all."

She stopped struggling for the moment and just looked at me with her big, brown doe eyes. I could tell she was petrified as she was shaking and breathing deep through her nose since my hand still covered her mouth.

"If you promise to be quiet, I will take my hand from your mouth, sweet. Otherwise, I'm going to have to harm you and we both know that is not how we want this to go, right?" I asked her in a deceptively quiet voice.

She nodded her assent and I slowly lowered my hand but kept it close in case she tried to scream again. With my hand pressed along her jaw, she sucked in a deep breath and asked, "Who are you and what do you want?"

"Wow, lot's of questions there, sweet Isabella."

She cocked her head to the side as if wondering how I knew her name. I answered her unasked question by saying "You're Dr. Swan, are you not?"

Her eyes lit up with the realization that I must have come in through the front door so she decided to answer me truthfully.

"Yes, I'm Dr. Swan. I'm a psychologist. Is there something I can help you with? A problem perhaps?" I could tell she was grasping at straws and trying to use that psycho mumbo jumbo on me in an effort to stall for time.

"Oh yeah, I got a problem for sure, sweet. But I don't think it's one you can help me with since you seem to be part of it."

"How do you mean?" Again, stalling. I could see her inching along her countertop. Her hands were behind her back and I figured she was probably hoping to get to the utensil drawer to grab a knife or something, but I was way ahead of her. I pulled her arms out from behind her and away from the counters.

"Let's go into your office, shall we? I'd like to see the file on this patient that you're talking about. Edward Cullen, right?"

"Uh…Edward?" she tried to sound coy.

"Yeah, don't try to act all innocent on me now, Dr. Swan. I heard you talking on the phone and I know you know about Tanya and that other bitch too. But what I don't understand it what that has to do with this Edward guy."

I grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down the hallway. As we passed the front door, I made sure it was locked and pushed her ahead of me into her office space.

"So, where's this file?" I asked as I rooted around the files that were scattered across her desk.

"It's in my car," she said quickly as her eyes darted over towards her purse on the chair in the corner. I could see a manila file sitting under her purse and I rolled my eyes at her.

"Really, Dr. Swan? You think I'm THAT stupid? I know you fucking pity me, but you really have no idea how fucking smart I really am!" I could feel my agitation growing as I ran my fingers through my hair and pulled at its roots.

"I don't think your stupid," she back-peddled quickly. "I also don't pity you. Why would you think that?"

"Don't fucking toy with me, bitch. I saw you. I saw you in my dream and you felt all sorry for me and acted like I was a piece of fucking shit. Don't fucking think I don't know that you think you're so much better than me!"

Again, she cocked her head to the side as if she was confused. "Did you say that you saw me in a dream? What dream?"

"I don't know. I've been having these really weird dreams lately and the other night, you were sitting in that chair, right there, dressed all prim and proper with your hair up in a bun and your short little skirt on and I was telling you everything. I don't know what the fuck is happening to me but I can't stand it anymore. It's driving me crazy!" I rubbed my hands over my face in the hopes that I could stop the feelings that were overwhelming me. I felt tired all of a sudden, like my whole body was simply drained of energy.

"Do you mind if we sit down?" she asked me softly as she took a step towards her chair and motioned me to her sofa. I took a step towards the sofa but stopped.

"What? You think you're going to turn this into a therapy session or something? That's not what I'm fucking here for. I just need to get out of town. I was on my way out of town when I saw you in that goddamned coffee shop. I just wanted to talk to you but you had to go and act all high and mighty on me!"

"I'm sorry…" she paused as if waiting for something. "I don't even know your name. What's your name?"


Her eyebrows lifted slightly when I told her my name and again, I could see her trying to process something in her mind. "No, Anthony. I am not trying to turn this into a therapy session and I was also not trying to be a snob. I just thought we could sit down for a minute and talk." I took the last step towards the sofa and slid down to rest myself on its soft leather. "You have to admit that your comment was very rude at the coffee shop and it made me very nervous."

"Yeah, nervous. I can see that. I didn't mean it. I just wanted to talk to you. You're very pretty but I could tell you probably wouldn't talk to an asshole like me normally." I kind of chuckled at the thought of what I had said to her. I knew it would make her uncomfortable but I really liked the shock value and the look on her face had been priceless.

"Why did you think you had to be so crude, Ed…., I mean Anthony? If you thought I looked pretty, why would you want to upset me?"

"I don't know. Most of the time, I'm a fucking prick to women but that usually doesn't stop them from wanting me to fuck them. I learned real young that most women just want to get laid and don't really care whose doing the laying as long as they get what they want. Who am I to argue?" Again, I chuckled at my joke.

"Anthony," she started in her soft, doctor voice, "not all women are that thoughtless. What would make you think that way?"

"My dad for one. He's the fucking bastard that told me that after my mom left. Told me she was a goddamned whore who just wanted to get laid. I figured that had to be true 'cause why else would she leave me like that?"

"When did she leave you, Anthony?"

"When I was six. I heard her and my dad yelling one night so I snuck out to the top of the stairs to listen. I heard her telling my dad that she was done. She said that God never wanted her to have kids in the first place. She kept asking my dad why he forced me on her. She never wanted any kids to begin with and here she was stuck at home with me all the time. She was sick and tired of playing 'Mommy.' The next day when I got up, she was gone. That was it. No note or anything. Just gone." I took a steadying breath so that I didn't let any of the emotions I was feeling go. I could feel tears starting to sting my eyes so I looked up at the ceiling and tried to blink them away.

"Anthony, were you adopted by any chance?" she asked me out of the blue. I looked over at her and cocked my eyebrow.

"Yeah, I was. How did you know that? My birth parents died in a car crash or something when I was born. Well, actually, my mother lived long enough to deliver me and then she died. My adopted parents got me as a baby. Apparently, my adoptive mother couldn't have kids or some shit, so they adopted me. Lot of fucking good that did. My mom didn't want me in the first place and my dad hated me for it once she left. As soon as I got out of that shithole, I changed my name back to Masen. That's my real name. Anthony Masen. I hated those fucking losers who adopted me so much I couldn't wait to erase them from my fucking life."

I glanced over at Dr. Swan and saw the shocked look on her face. She was sitting back in her chair, clutching the arms of upholstered fabric with white knuckles. Her face had gone completely pale as well and she finally said in a faint whisper "Anthony Masen?"


I was rudely awakened by what sounded like a herd of elephants running past my apartment door and kicking it as they went past. I sat up on the couch, where I had fallen asleep slumped over the armrest sometime early this morning, my heart thundering in my chest wondering what the hell was happening. I realized that someone was pounding on my front door and yelling that they were from the Chicago Police Department. Oh my God, someone had recognized me from that drawing on the news. I didn't know what to do. I was afraid to open the door, afraid of what would happen next. However, the choice was taken out of my hands when my apartment door was rammed open so hard, the door knob went through the plaster on the adjacent wall.

I gasped in shock when Jasper, Alice's cop boyfriend rushed through the gaping hole where my front door used to be with his gun drawn out of his holster, closely followed by a huge bear of man who looked like he was going to shoot me as soon as he spotted me half on and half off the couch.

Jasper forcibly placed one hand in the centre of the big guy's chest and held him still before turning to me with a fierce look in his eyes, "Cullen, why the fuck didn't you answer the door? What the hell are you hiding? Is she here, have you got Isabella Swan here, you sick fuck?

I began trembling as the remnants of my bad dream flashed back to me. Had it really been me that had followed Dr Swan this morning and rambled and cried to her about things that made no sense while threatening to fuck her? I shook my head mutely and this time when the big bear of a cop lunged at me, Jasper moved out of his way.

I had started to back away from the door when Jasper had started yelling at me and sped up when the big cop lunged at me, he just grabbed me around the neck and pushed me straight into the wall behind me. His angry face inches from mine, he ground out through clenched teeth, "Where the fuck is Dr Swan, my little sister, you crazy shit?"

I could barely talk, he had one large hand pressed into my throat and was mashing my face against the tiled wall while the other was wrapped around his gun which he was frighteningly tapping against my temple. I choked out that I didn't know where Dr Swan was; that she wasn't here, but he didn't believe me. He was shaking his head and telling me that what I had said was the wrong answer. The tapping on my head got harder and I closed my eyes trying to contain the panic that had set in as soon as the door had slammed open.

"Edward, open your eyes and look at me," Jasper's voice was calming and when I opened my eyes at his insistence, his face now joined the angry one in front of mine.

He turned to the big cop, "Emmett, back off and have a look through the apartment while I have a little chat with Cullen here, okay?"

Emmett continued to glare at me but the tapping gun stopped. Instead, he pressed it hard against my temple and growled at me, "If you have hurt her, you sick fuck, you will pay. I will tear you limb from limb and then burn all the little pieces, you got that?" I nodded and he shoved me hard before moving down the hallway towards the other rooms.

Jasper turned back to me then and in a calm voice asked me where Isabella Swan was. I was terrified about what I might have done. I don't remember getting dressed and leaving the apartment. I remember seeing Dr Swan in my nightmare terrified and pleading with me, calling me by my name and crying for me to let her go. I had been taunting her and asking why she kept calling me Edward, threatening her. I slumped to the floor, my head in my hands. Fuck, that's all I remember. What have I done?

Jasper almost wrenched my arm out of the sockets pulling me back up. "It's over, Edward. We know everything. Just tell us where she is and things will go easier for you. Reliable witnesses have identified you from your staff photo as the last person to have been seen with both Tanya Denali and Sally Harper, both brutally murdered this week. We found the body of Tanya Denali this morning." I gasped. It was true then, I was the sick fuck doing these things. My stomach rebelled and I just barely managed to stop myself from emptying it all over Jasper's shoes.

"I can't believe I didn't realize it was you when we released the identikit drawings yesterday. It just never crossed my mind that you, my sweet Alice's big brother would be capable of cold blooded murder. This is going to kill her Cullen, you motherfucker."

The big cop, Emmett walked back into the room then and let Jasper know that there was no sign of her. "Find the fuck out where she is, Jasper, or I will fucking torture him."

I turned desperately back to Jasper, "I don't know where Dr Swan is, Jazz. You have to believe that I would tell you if I knew." I stuttered out.

"Cut the crap, Cullen. We know you've been seeing Isabella Swan as a patient; she called Emmett this morning to say that she had a lead on the Denali case and she mentioned you. When she failed to show down at the station to meet with us, we went to her office and there is no sign of her. We found your file and know that you gave Dr Swan details of these murders that no one else knows. It is all written down in Dr Swan's notes. Edward, only the murderer could have known some of these details. We need to know where Isabella Swan is and we need to know now."

I looked at them and told them everything I knew. That I couldn't remember actually doing any of these things; that everything I knew came from my nightmares. I didn't know where the apartment was I kept dreaming about and I honestly didn't know where Dr Swan was although I had a nightmare of her being tied up somewhere.

At my last statement, Emmett lunged toward me again and it took all of Jasper's strength to keep him off me. Jasper calmed him down by reminding Emmett that I wouldn't be able to tell them were Bella was if I was dead.

Jasper's phone went off and after he took a quick glance at it, he put it back into his pocket. He paced in front of me and regaled me with the consequences of committing a murder in the State of Illinois. First degree murder carried a penalty of a minimum of twenty years in prison with the possibility of the death penalty. He tried to bribe me with the idea that if I came clean as to the whereabouts of Dr Swan and she was unharmed, then the jury would be more lenient on me. I wished I could tell him. I didn't want Dr Swan to be hurt and I definitely didn't want her to die.

Jasper's cell rang for the third time in as many minutes and finally he stepped away to answer it. I could hear him murmuring into the phone and once he was distracted, Emmett took a step closer to me. He grabbed me by my t-shirt and twisting it, pulled me closer.

"I have had enough of this shit. Do you hear me, Cullen?" he grunted into my face. "I don't care that Bella thinks you have psychological problems, and maybe a fucking split personality. You will tell me where she is and you will tell me now!"

Really? Dr Swan thought I had a mental illness, a split personality? Was that why I didn't remember doing these things? I remember taking a psychology course in med school and it was common for the main personality not to know what the other personality was doing. Oh fuck! It all made sense now, this Anthony must be my other personality. He must have done all those horrible things and my conscious mind thought they were nightmares. Oh my God, oh my God. I am a murderer!

Emmett scared the crap out of me. I almost told him any old address just to get away from him, but I really wanted them to find Dr Swan. I told him again that I didn't know where she was and he crashed me into the wall over and over. My head cracked against the tiles and as I cried out in pain, my vision went blurry and my legs gave out. As Emmett started coming for me again, Jasper turned around and called out to him to stop, he had a lead on Bella's whereabouts.

Jasper leaned down and pulled me up off the floor, spun me around and slapped handcuffs on me. He told me that I was coming with them while they were checking out something from his phone conversation. As we exited the apartment, I saw my next door neighbours peering out their open doorways. I hung my head in shame as Jasper dragged me towards the elevator. On the trip down, I overheard Jasper say that the calls were from his sister Rosalie, a reporter for the Tribune.

Jasper told Emmett that Rose had been doing some investigative work for an expose on drugs and escalating violence in downtown Chicago and her source had named Anthony Masen as the main supplier for that area. Rose had told Jasper that the identikit picture matched this Anthony Masen character who kept a place in downtown Chicago according to her source.

What the hell? I was so screwed. Anthony was the middle name I had chosen for myself when I was a kid and Masen was the name I was born with. If I had had any doubt before that it was me doing all these horrible things, it had been removed when I heard that name.

We reached the unmarked squad car in the parking lot and Emmett shoved me into the backseat and handcuffed me to the door handle. As Emmett drove out of the lot's entrance, Jasper told Emmett that he had put a call into the station to track down an address for Anthony Masen. His cell phone rang moments later and as Emmett drove, he directed him to the address advised.

Jasper turned around to face me, "This Anthony Masen apparently just leased the apartment a few months ago, right around the time you moved here. Is there anything you would like to tell us now, Cullen?"

I swallowed, "My birth name is Masen and when I was a kid I was pissed that I didn't have a middle name like everyone else so my parents let me choose Anthony. But I don't know about any apartment downtown."

"Fucking hell, you fucking asshole…" Emmett yelled as the car swerved, "…Bella better be in one piece with not a scratch on her."

Jasper yelled at Emmett to watch where he was going or we would be killed and never find Bella. As Emmett righted the car, he jerked the steering wheel and my head thumped against the metal bar between the seats right where Emmett had beaten it against the tiles. The area was sore and when it connected with the metal, I felt an explosion in my head and everything went black.


"With every day, and from both sides of my intelligence, the moral and the intellectual, I thus drew steadily nearer to the truth, by whose partial discovery I have been doomed to such a dreadful shipwreck: that man is not truly one, but truly two."

From Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

The phone rang again and again, I told her to leave it and let it roll to the answering machine. No one had bothered to leave a message the first two times it hand rung, but this time, a booming voice shouted out of the machine's speaker.

"Bella, it's Emmett. Where the FUCK are you? You were supposed to be here at the station an hour ago and I'm getting worried. Jasper and I are going to take a drive over to the diner for the witness to ID a staff photo we have of Edward Cullen. We'll stop by your office on the way. If you get this message or Mrs. Cope, if you get this message, please call me. I need to know where you are."

The other end of the phone clicked and I looked at Dr. Swan. "So, who's Emmett?" I asked. He sounded a little frantic and if he was on his way over, I definitely didn't want to be anywhere near the house.

"He's my brother," was all Isabella said as she lowered her eyes to my feet.

"What station were you supposed to be at?" I asked. I could tell as her eyes darted from left to right that she was trying to think of something to satisfy my question. "Don't bother to lie to me. I can tell; you are a terrible liar."

Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed a bit. "He's my brother who also works for the Chicago Police Department. He has been investigating the disappearance of Tanya Denali since last week. He was the one that I was going to bring your file to."

My file? What the fuck was she talking about? I didn't have a file. The file sitting next to me on the couch was for some fucker named Edward Cullen, not me.

"Why do you keep thinking I'm Edward Cullen? I told you my name is Anthony Masen." I leaned forward so my elbows were resting on my knees and I was holding my head in my hands. I knew the name sounded familiar. I had heard the name Edward in my dreams for weeks. But I was still not sure what that fucker had to do with me and why his boring ass life was being played out each night while I slept.

"Edward," she began as she leaned forward and put her hand out to me. "I know this may be difficult to understand but I think you may be suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder or what is more commonly referred to as Multiple Personality Disorder. I think if you turn yourself over to the police when they get here, I'll be able to get you the help you need."

"Help? I don't need fucking help. I just need to get the fuck out of here. Come on…we need to go now!"

I jumped to my feet and grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards the front door. Again, I warned her not to make any false moves or loud noises. I was no longer in the mood to put up with her shrink shit and her professing to want to help me. I was done with the chatter and needed to move out.

As I got to the front door, I realized I would have a problem driving with her in the car so I decided that if the trunk was good enough for Tanya, Heiress to the Denali fortune; it would be good enough for Dr. Isabella Fucking Swan. I walked her down the steps and the short walk to the school parking lot to the car and opened the trunk.

"Get in," I ordered.

"What?" She looked up at me with her big doe eyes and finally looked scared.

"I said get in. I've only got a little ways to drive but I can't do that with you in the front. So, get in and do it quickly or I'm going to have to hurt you." I pushed her into the trunk and slammed the lid down, glancing around to see if anyone was watching. Luck seemed to be on my side since it was still pretty early and the street seemed all but abandoned.

I had no idea what I was going to do now but I knew I had to get away from her office. I decided to go back to my apartment and figure out a plan. If anything, her brother should be off looking for this Cullen asshole which would buy me some time.

I drove as fast as I could without drawing any undue attention. I pulled into the back of the apartment complex and looked around for anyone loitering about. When I didn't see anyone, I popped open the trunk and pulled Isabella out by her elbows.

"Where are we?" she said as her eyes tried to adjust to the daylight.

"We're at my place. Keep your damned mouth shut and you may live to see the inside of my apartment." I pulled her along next to me and released her once we were inside. "Have a seat," I ordered her as I bolted the door and crossed into the small kitchenette. I pulled out some duct tape that I had in a drawer and walked over to her. Her eyes got all big and sweat broke out across her upper lip.

"What are you going to do?" she whispered.

"I'm just going to make sure that no one hears you and that you can't get away. Obviously I can't just let you sit around my house watching Oprah or some shit. I need to come up with a plan and I figure you're my only ticket out of here. So, while I do that, you are going to sit on this couch and be quiet. Understand?"

She nodded her head and looked all scared and like she was about to cry. I pulled off a long strip of duct tape and wound it around her wrists, then pulled off a smaller piece to put across her face to ensure she kept quiet. I cut another long strip for around her ankles for insurance purposes. I figured she wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon. God, you just gotta love duct tape!

I fell back into my recliner and blew out a huge breath. I was staring at Isabella as I ran my hands up and down my thighs. I knew that I needed to get out of the city as soon as possible but I was beginning to think that having Isabella along was probably not such a good idea. She would just slow me down and make things more difficult for me. If her brother is a cop, he'd have everyone out looking for her, but if he was occupied with arranging a funeral, it would be much easier to slip away.

As I sat there across from her and continued to stare at her, I could tell she was getting more and more nervous. Her eyes kept darting from me to the door and then back to me. I actually started to feel bad that the silver duct tape was hiding her pouty little lips. My tongue darted out and licked mine as I imagined what fun she and I could have together. I figured I could at least give her one last good fuck before I had to get rid of her.

My mind began to wander towards the fun things I could do with the duct tape when all of a sudden there was a huge pounding on my apartment door.

"Police! Open up!" I jumped up from my chair and grabbed the wrists of Isabella and dragged her up in front of me. I figured at the very least, if they came in with guns blazing, I could use her as a human shield. As I held her against my chest, the door flew open and a body somersaulted across the carpet and came to a halt behind my recliner. I was now starring down the barrel of several weapons pointed in my direction and Isabella was crouched down with her arms trying to protect her head.

"Freeze, motherfucker!" this huge cop yelled at me and that's when I knew that my time was up. Isabella jumped up and threw herself in the direction of the huge guy who caught her with one arm, while the blond one that was crouched behind my recliner jumped up, grabbed my wrist, wrenched it behind my back and threw me against the wall.

"What the fuck?" I heard the one closest to me mutter as he roughly put the handcuffs on my wrists and turned me around. "Emmett, how did this fucker get out of the car?"

Emmett looked over at us from where he stood clutching Isabella in his arms. She was crying hysterically and wouldn't look up from where she clung to the huge beast's shirt. He cocked his head to the side as he holstered his weapon and wrapped his big burly arms around her. "What the fuck is going on here, man?" he boomed in his loud voice not really talking to anyone in particular.

I could assume from the message I heard on the answering machine earlier that this was her brother. I didn't have much time to process everything because once the cuffs were on me; I was roughly dragged out of my apartment and pushed down the set of stairs towards the front of the building. There were several black and white police cars with their lights flashing surrounding the building and one unmarked vehicle pulled haphazardly across the lawn. I was forcefully pushed towards the unmarked car by the blond cop who was reading me my rights. As we got close to the car, I could see someone sitting in the back seat. He looked up at me through the window and I stopped dead in my tracks.

I heard the guy holding my arm gasp and yell for the big hulk to bring Isabella, or Bella as he called her, over to the car. All the duct tape had been removed and she was no longer crying. She hesitantly walked up towards the front of the car. She looked at me and then at the man sitting in the back seat of the detective's car. Her eyes widened and then she reached out to touch the glass of the window tentatively as if what she was seeing wasn't real.

"OH MY GOD! They're twins!"



The pulsing dance music reverberated through my chest as I stood at one of the tall tables scattered around the carpeted floor of the new club, Breaking Dawn that Angela Webber and her partner, Ben Cheney, had dragged me to tonight. Jasper and Alice had been here earlier but had left as Alice was suffering from early onset morning sickness. They had been married in Vegas a few months ago and all was right in their world.

Tonight was meant to be a celebration. My twin brother, Anthony Masen, had successfully avoided the death penalty thanks to the services of the Cullen family lawyer, John Jenks, and was instead incarcerated for life for the murders of Tanya Denali and Sally Harper. I visited him often although he didn't appreciate my efforts. I kept telling myself that he was my long lost, if previously unknown, brother and you don't give up on family ever; no matter what they had done in my book.

Unfortunately, our strange connection was still as much in place now as it was a year ago. He was living his life vicariously through my thoughts – I no longer needed to be asleep for his thoughts to invade my mind either which was damned inconvenient. Right now he was giving me an explicit rundown of every girl that walked past me and what he would be doing in every gory detail to them if he was me.

On the flip side, I had one hell of a bad dream one night a few weeks after he had been incarcerated in the Metropolitan Correctional Centre. Let's just say that Anthony is a good looking man and his personal attributes had not gone unnoticed by his fellow inmates. It felt too fucking real for my liking and I had awakened screaming that morning sure that my asshole had been ripped apart.

I had no further appointments with Isabella Swan under the circumstances and, in fact, once I realized that it was Anthony's thoughts that I had been seeing all along, I had not seen any shrinks at all. I even summoned up the nerve to ask her to dinner after bumping into her in a hospital corridor one day last week. I had a really nice time and I think she did too once she had relaxed and realized I was nothing like Anthony.

Angela and Ben caught my attention to let me know that they were leaving and I said that I was going to head out too. I was following behind them weaving through the tables to the front door when Anthony drew my attention to the looker at the bar. I couldn't help but take a closer look when I saw a gorgeous curvy woman with her back to me talking to the bartender. Her exceedingly long wavy chocolate hair scraped the top of her curvaceous ass which was wrapped in a figure hugging magenta jersey dress that ended mid thigh. Her legs were encased in smoky stockings and slipped into knee high black boots.

I was trying to ignore Anthony's voice in my head to go over and hit on that hot piece of ass and walk out of the club, when the vision turned around and it was none other than the delectable Isabella Swan. I was right; the librarian did turn into a sex kitten after hours. She spotted me across the club and smiled at me. I indicated the dance floor with a raise of my eyebrows and she nodded at me.

I made my way through the throng of people dancing to the fast paced beat until I met her in the middle. Slowly we came together. Even though the music was pounding and the bodies around us were practically thrashing to the song, I grabbed her by her waist and pulled her close. We moved together silently and sensually and as we danced wrapped around each other, I channelled my twin brother's outward confidence and I whispered in her ear, "I need to make love to you Bella, to be deep inside of you, to bring you to completion and watch your face as you reach your petit mort, your little death....."


But I was still cursed with my duality of purpose; and as the first edge of my penitence wore off, the lower side of me, so long indulged, so recently chained down, began to growl for licence. Not that I dreamed of resuscitating Hyde; . . . no, it was in my own person that I was once more tempted to trifle with my conscience.

From Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson