It was cold and raining the day I discovered a body in my bed. It had been raining all week, been cold all month, and there had been no bodies in my bed all year... besides my own. I slept pleasantly that night, kept warm by the body in the bed. It was the last normal night I would ever experience again.

My alarm blared in the darkness and I sat up to silence it, then fell back to stare at the dark ceiling in hopes of a reason not to go to work. I started to bring my arms up to stretch when my hand touched another under the sheets.

My heart stopped.

I reached over with my other hand to feel and arm and barely swallowed a scream of surprise. I was at the lightswitch in a flash, the thudding of my heartbeat filling my ears.

The room looked like it had been ransacked in the night. Everything was strewn across the floors with abandon, drawers hanging empty and some kind of long cut lancing across one wall. I was relieved that nothing was out of the ordinary besides the slowly breathing outline in the bed.

I grabbed a cheap mall katana from behind the door and crept over to the bed. With the tip of the blade, I flicked back the covers and let out a gasp.

I had expected a psycho in a turtleneck with a knife and an erection. I was expecting a corpse of a friend or sex worker with a note decrying what I did. I even expected a hot alien seeking refuge from space cops.

I didn’t expect to lock eyes with myself.

“FUCK!” We both screamed at the same time, in the same voice, with the same fearful expression painted across our faces. I could tell both were the same because, somehow, I could see myself twice, through both sets of eyes. Both the Me laying flat in bed, and the Me with the cracked out eyes and flimsy ninja sword cowering against the door.

I stood up, cussing twice over as the Me on the bed slammed their head into the ceiling. Carefully, bed-me crawled down, though sword-me still ducked their legs a little in the process.

“What,” I said twice, “the fuck is going on. Stop. Stop copying me.”

I focused my attention one body, both appearing strained by the effort.

“Stop” bed-me said.

“Better.” I both said.

“This is so confusing!” Sword-me screamed.

“Are you… okay?” my roommate asked, knocking quietly on my door from the hallway.

“... Yes…” Bed-me said careful.

“Okay, dude, just… die quieter, okay?” He said.

“I’ll do my best!” I said, wincing as the words came out of the wrong mouth.

There was a tense moment where nothing happened, then footsteps retreated down the hallway. I let out my breath, even my sigh coming out identically.

“Okay,” we say, “Let’s think through this.”

We worked together to clear some ground amonst the mess, then moved bed-me to stand in the center while sword-me circled them. I stared at my second body, who tried their best to stand still and not mimic my own walking.

The clone was exactly that, an identical copy in almost every way. The eyes, the hair, the disappointed slouch, it was definitely me. However, it was also devoid of any of my life-marks. There were no scars, no burns, no healed over wounds of any kind. Even the curved scar that resembled a closed eye in the center of my forehead, an accident from when I was very young, was also gone.

I tossed the sword on the bed and took myself by the cheeks. I leaned in and kissed myself.

“This is weird.” I said, quickly stepping away from me.

“Super weird.”

“Why was that my first go-to?”

“Lets not ask that.”

“Okay.”

We both looked away uncomfortably, kicking at some discarded clothes and coughing.

“What happens now?” We both asked, looking at ourselves in concern.

Should I tell someone? My family? The news? Surely this should be scientifically interesting… but I also didn’t want to be a lab rat. A private scientist perhaps? I racked our brains for any famous TV scientists when my phone buzzed, a call from work.

We both went for it, squabbling for who would talk and accidentally picking up the call in the process.

“Sarah’s finally popped so she gets maternity leave till friday, can you pick up her shifts?”

“Sure!” I responded. I looked at myself for confirmation, then nodded. If there were two of me to feed, the extra cash would come in handy.

“Something wrong with your phone? You sound all.. echo-y.”

“No…” I said, struggling to focus it through one mouth.

“Alright, well, I really appreciate it. Her next shift starts in 10, so... get moving.”

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I wince as my manager makes another passive aggressive remark from the register, another reminder that I arrived without my apron. Who I was five minutes past the shift start and I must have stopped in to get coffee when I could have gotten it at work and been on time. I laugh awkwardly once more then turn to stare daggers into the depths of the pastry oven.

Overlapping a slightly burned danish was a blank square of popcorn white ceiling. Back at home, I lay on my back, staring up with my legs dangling off of the bed. With how difficult focusing into one body was, I had mitigated the mental strain by letting my clone copy my work in the air.

I relaxed as a new victim for my manager’s chatty habits approached. I began to bop my head slightly to music playing on a laptop on the bed. Who needs headphones to listen to music at work when you have a hivemind clone?

Several comfortable hours passed tossing shrink wrapped pastries into ovens or bags and minding my own business. Eventually, a tap on my shoulder let me know it was my turn for break. I walked into the breakroom and sat down on a flimsy chair under a bare bulb, wedged between the fire door and the trash cans. As I sat, both bodies gave a relaxed sigh.

“Glad they let us have a chair, huh?” my manager said, wandering in off the floor to take a seat at her rickety desk. She waggled a pair of finger guns at me and said “Work hard, break hard, right? Good teamwork today!”

“Thanks, Danielle.” I said, giving a thumbs up.

“Who’s Danielle? Oh, is that your manager?” My roommate asked from behind the door.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Shit.” I muttered, panic quickly setting in.

“Something wrong?” Danielle asked.

“No, nothing!” I said, laughing emptily while pulling my phone from my pocket.

“Nothing? Are you okay?" My roommate asked with concern, "You’ve been muttering pastry orders all day in there.”

“No, I’m fine, just, stressing about work, y’know.”

“Oh, I totally know.” Danielle said, turning around to sit backwards in her chair, “Sometimes I wake up literally doing inventory! Isn’t that totally wild?”

“Yeah, didn’t you say you were called in?” My roommate cracked the door open, “I thought you left for that hours ago?”

“Super weird. I did but… it’s totally gotten worse.” I responded, trying to formulate something for both conversations. Sweat dripped down both of my brows.

“Work has? Is it your manager?” My roommate asked, leaning his head in the door. His eyes seemed to bug out slightly as my legs were held in the air, horizontally mimicking my position at work.

“Worse than inventory? If you can find me a job here that’s harder than counting things let me know!” Danielle hooted

“Bathrooms, window, espresso station, window, register, window…” I responded

“Wow, you really hate window that much?” Both manager and roommate said together. A shiver ran up my spines.

“Perfect sync!”

“What?” Danielle asked.

“I’m making you tea.” My roommate declared, marching away to the kitchen.

“Nothing, I think… I think I’m just not feeling great.” I responded.

“Obviously,” Danielle said, “Well, if you’re feeling sick… We’ll keep you on pastry station so you don’t have to talk to anyone.”

She turned back in her seat and I locked my eyes on my phone, planting my feet firmly while my roommate returned with a hot cup of tea. I sat up with one body, carefully reaching for it as bullets of sweat rained down both foreheads.

“Thanks.” I said.

“Yeah… and maybe put on a visor before you go back on the floor.” Danielle tossed one from beside her desk to my lap. “You’re looking a little drippy and we don’t want you sweating on the LTOs!”

I set the cup aside while donning the visor, carefully separating the process of moving a cup of hot liquid from the process of putting on a hat. My roommate watched me grimace with effort as I fought myself from upending the cup over my own head or throwing the visor in the trash.

“Yeah.. okay, call if you need soup or… or an ambulance or something.”

“Thanks!” I said, giving a thumbs up to the fire exit and my roommate.

“Sorry, Jessica tried that last week, I’m not sending you home early no matter how ‘out of it’ you act.”

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The hours remaining in the day were spent predominantly in silence, focused on separating myselves at any chance I could. I worked on warming or sweeping or dishes while fumbling through video games or struggling to read subtitles on anime. Several times over I had caught myself laughing at nothing at work or pushing things off my desk while cleaning the espresso machine. Soon enough the stations were cleaned, the doors locked, and the leftovers rabidly consumed or packed away for the next day.

I stepped out onto the street with a shiver as the last of the daylight faded from view. A bag of pastries crinkled loudly under my shirt and I started the walk back home when I heard my name being called from across the parking lot. I muted the TV at home and patiently stared at the living room ceiling while the conversation at work happened.

“Cesar? Need something?” I asked, slightly strained with making it come from one body.

I looked down in surprise as a small plastic bag was shoved into my hands.

“You look like death so I texted my boyfriend to bring some stuff. Get some damn sleep. I’ll take Sarah’s shifts if you need, just…” Cesar waggled a finger in my general direction, “Fix this.”

“Thank you.” I said, half laughing and half sighing. The fatigue of the day suddenly washed over me with a buckling of knees and numbing of fingers.

“Also, no offense or anything but...” Cesar said, leaning in and pointing just above and between his meticulously sculpted eyebrows, “didn’t you have a scar right there?”

“Ah, yeah, it’s just... Dark?” I said quickly, stepping away and pulling the visor lowers over my face, “thanks again, and tell Eddie thanks for me!

“You’re welcome!” Eddie bellowed from across the quickly emptying lot as I hurried away.

“Who’s Eddie? Are you still not feeling well?”

I startled as my roommate leaned over the back of the couch and into view. I silently cursed, realizing I had mumbled at home what I had shouted in the parking lot. While maintaining my walk out of the lot, I reached out to push my roommate's face away.

“Eww don’t touch me germy!” he said.

“Don’t touch me, asshole!” Someone grunted as I walked into them with an arm pushed straight out. “What the hell!”

“Sorry!” I said in both bodies, putting up my hands defensively.

I had straight-arm shoved a heavy set man in cargo shorts, simultaneously walking into the wheel of a bicycle. The bike in turn supported the weight of a lanky man in a ratty hoodie. There was a brief moment of stunned silence as lanky man wheeled his arms to regain balance and the man I pushed glared, not moving an inch.

“Don’t worry about it.” My roommate said, laughing and wandering out of the room, “Just go to bed already, germy!”

“You ready to die today?” The large man asked.

“Actually, I gotta go.” I said with a panicked strain to my voice. The fatigue quickly left my body as I turned and bolted, leaving the large man to help his companion up. I was quickly wheezing as I hugged the pastries and sick supplies to my chest. With one hand on my goods and another keeping my pants up, I dashed down a dark bike trail towards home.

“Go? Go where?” My roommate said in alarm as I shot to my feet. I didn’t bother spending the mental effort to explain, simply grabbed my shoes, a flashlight, and the shitty mall katana from my room and dashed towards the door.

“Wh-no! Whatever you’re doing, no!” He shouted after me, but I was already out into the night.

I didn’t get very far before the bike guy caught up to me. Organizing myself enough to run with both bodies had been surprisingly easy but neither were particularly athletic. He didn’t even bother to stop me. His bike chain rattled loudly as he stopped further up the path. I came to a slow, then stopped with a wheeze a few feet away.

“Sup, dumbass?” He jeered.

“Danish.” I said under my breath.

“What?” He said, leaning in.

“Sorry, just… catching my breath… one sec. I said... “ I whipped my hand out from under my shirt and hucked a handful of pastry in his face. “DANISH!”

I made a break for it past him just as I heard the pounding of his companion’s footsteps from down the path. The ploy worked for all of a few seconds before I found myself face down in the gravel path, a tirade of curses joining the knee digging into my back.

I ran faster down the street, my sword glinting in the streetlights as I hustled past confused and awestruck neighborhood kids.

“School is an illusion, buy a katana!” I shouted behind me with delirious abandon and rounded the corner into the bike trail.

“Are you nuts? What the hell do you mean, buy a katana?” The lanky man shouted, a bit of icing dripping from his nose and into my ear. The man I had accidentally attempted to push hustled into view from around the bend. Without saying a word he went in with a kick to my stomach that left me gasping. Below me, several hard objects in the bag dug into my crunchy ribs.

Another kick and another interrogative scream filled my body, but didn’t seem to reach my mind. Instead, like a tap being closed, the stream of information coming from that version of me slowed to a trickle. I felt more present in my sword wielding body, a feeling I then realized I had lacked all day. The pain was still there, even that body's vision still trickled in, but as though projected on a screen that was too far away.

“H’WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!” I screamed in a textbook TV kung fu impression, driving my heel into the lanky man’s side as I dashed onto the scene. He cussed and rolled away. I passed myself the flashlight and dramatically posed with the weapon.

“School is an illusion!” We both shouted, unable to think of anything cooler in the moment. “Buy a katana!”

The two looked at each other then at both of me, then shrugged.

“Yeah, screw this.” The big guy said and backed away with a casual shrug.

“Don’t push people over, asshole.” The lanky man said in a hurt tone, picking up his bike and scooping baked goods from his face. “Goddamn apologize next time, you freak.”

“Oh…” I said sheepishly through the sword body, “Sorry.”

“Not yo- yeah, whatever.”

I waited for the two to leave before pulling the bag of crushed food from my shirt. I plopped down besides myself with a sigh and began to eat idly as I considered what to do next.

Living like this was going to be a challenge. Knowing I could slow, if not close, the connection between bodies was a big deal. The more I thought about the hivemind, the more it re-opened. The new body sat up, groaning and stealing a piece of baked goods in the process.

We both laughed quietly, shaking our heads and murmuring “Buy a katana, what a goober.” Though our timing wasn’t exactly the same. We locked eyes, visualizing the flow of connection between us choking from a rushing river to a thin stream. I grinned and my bruised clone slowly grinned in response. I raised a hand and they did the same, but a second after. In that moment, we were having the same thoughts, but not sharing the same mind.

The other body then frowned and looked away down the path where the thugs had gone. A moment later I heard it too and we both scrambled to get up, both turning the same direction as we tried to separate ourselves. We both looked in surprise as we heard our name from down the path.

“I knew it!” Cesar shouted, pointing at me “Eddie, shoot the evil one!”