The notes below detail the events captured by the CCTV camera in room 306 of St. Mary’s Hospital.
Key Subjects: Noel Reyes [Patient] and the Doppelgänger of Noel Reyes [Subject]
Date: September [DAY], 2024
06:10 - The patient and the subject lie in separate beds at opposite ends of the room. Yet, in every detail, they are identical. The rise of their chests, their breaths, even the rush of blood from heart to brain, are in sync. The world cannot tell them apart. Morning dawns and pours over them at the same time like twin newborns, washing them and the sterile room blue in the blue hour.
Tick. Two heart rate monitors tick from fifty to fifty-one. Fifty-one to fifty. Forty-nine to fifty-one.
A pair, a pair, a pair. They are a pair. The pair IS a pair.
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11:35 - Clouds have rolled in, sinking the room into a deep gray. The patient and subject, once bathed by sunlight and blue skies, have been swallowed by shade, now overseen by the soft glow of vital monitors.
It begins with wind howls, then the gentle tap of droplets on the window, as if calling the pair to come outside. However, the rain’s rhythm is uneven. Erratic. As it quickens, they toss themselves while asleep—movements perfectly synchronized.
With a thunderclap that shakes the hospital, a torrent of rain unleashes. The patient’s and the subject’s heart rates spike.
A nurse enters.
Nurse: (softly) And what’s better than one pretty boy?
She disregards their affliction. She flips a coin, then walks to the Noel on the left side of the room. They both rise as she gently shakes him.
Nurse: (happily) Good morning you two.
Left-Noel and Right-Noel: Good morning, Miss.
Their heart rates resettle as they look at o each other.
She hands Left-Noel a blue container, then gives Noel-2 a red container. They both sit up simultaneously, then dip their index and middle fingers into the respective containers. Staining their fingers is raw pigment, however, they don’t mark their foreheads as they have been instructed to do.
The nurse leaves and says something unintelligible.
A young South Korean woman enters the room. A young Black American man enters after. They are both wet with a mix of sweat and rain from having been caught in the rain outside. They remove their jackets. Neither acknowledges the pair.
Blue-Noel and Red-Noel: Good morning
“Slim” Barbara Lee: Why are you following me?
Finnian Browne: Octavia told us to go together.
“Slim” Barbara Lee: Fuck off anyway.
Barbara pulls out a roller chair and puts her notebook on a clipboard. She settles in the corner by the window, and from that moment she hardly moves anything besides her left hand. Finnian pulls his own chair and sits on the other side of the window.
Finnian Browne: Do you want to track deviations or synchronicities?
“Slim” Barbara Lee: We can do both and compare notes after.
Finnian Browne: Sounds good. Hey you two, we need you to mark your foreheads so we can distinguish you.
The Noels look at the pigment on their fingers. With fingers hovering over their foreheads, they exchange brief glances, as if unsure of how to proceed. One heart monitor escalates to eighty, while the other rises to ninety-one. Blue-Noel walks to Red-Noel and marks his forehead blue, before slowly marking his own. The heart rates return to a resting sixty-five at the same time.
Finnian Browne: They deviate when forced to desync. It lasted ten seconds.
“Slim” Barbara Lee: Noel holding the red container, would you kindly paint your forehead red for me. Noel with the blue, back to your bed.
“Slim” Barbara Lee: I don’t care. That’s not what I’m interested in.
Finnian Browne: What are you interested in?
“Slim” Barbara Lee: Doing what Octavia asked.
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Red-Noel returns to his bed and dips his fingers in the red pigment. But he only stares at it. His heart rate rises. He looks to Blue-Noel, and it falls, then rises again when he looks back at his own fingers. This continues in a loop. But it’s enough to tell them apart.
Barbara checks her watch.
“Slim” Barbara Lee: Noel, what time does Joanne usually come?
Red-Noel and Blue-Noel: Mom comes Around Lunch.
“Slim” Barbara Lee: We should come back in a few hours then.
Finnian Browne: I she still trying—
“Slim” Barbara Lee: Octavia was supposed to talk to her about it.
They both stand and repack their things.
Finnian Browne: At this point, they're both her sons.
Barbara cackles outside the room.
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12:51 - The rain is lighter now, as is the room. Joanne Reyes, a Hispanic woman in her mid-thirties sits in the middle of the room with her head in her hands.
Red-Noel and Blue-Noel: It’s not too bad, Ma. Another mouth to feed maybe, but legally, if we register we can both work. And we could use the money—
Joanne Reyes: Please just… stop talking. Stop talking at the same time.
The Noels fall silent. Their heart rate climbs on the monitors.
She pulls two tupperware containers out of her bag. They both approach in unison.
Blue-Noel: Thank you.
Red-Noel: Thank you.
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1500 - Barbara and Finnian have resumed their task. They sit on opposite sides of the large window, from which the sun shines again.
Finnian Browne: I’ll ask plainly— which one of you is the Doppelgänger?
Both Noels look at each other. One purses their lips, and the other looks taken aback before they settle back to the same expression.
Red-Noel and-Blue Noel: Does it matter? We’re the same.
Finnian Browne: But which of you is the real Noel?
This time, their lips move together, voices blending and answering as one.
Red-Noel and Blue-Noel: Does it matter? We’re the same.
The pair pause, their bodies still. The heart monitors beep in sync, a rhythmic tone in the background.
“Slim” Barbara Lee: By this point your connection, having a [Hunter] slay either of you would do nothing besides spark protests. So, for our own records, would either of you mind admitting it?
Both Noels turn and look at her, then shrug. Barbara sighs.
Red-Noel and Blue-Noel: We were both real… we are… we are we.
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21:00 - Joanne Reyes has entered the room. Her face is flushed, and her movements are tense. She looks between the Noels, Barbara, and Finnian with frantic eyes. She holds a phone in her hand.
Joanne Reyes: (shouting) My baby is not some fucking experiment! This is out of line!
Barbara doesn’t look up from her notebook. Her expression remains calm, and pays more attention to the reactions of the Noels than the outburst herself, Joanne. She scribbles something in her notebook.
Finnian Browne: We were instructed to do this, ma’am. The Custodial Association wants to see if it is possible for them to desync without spiraling… or having to kill one another. It’s rare, but it’s possible.
Her hands tremble. She takes a step toward Finnian, who seems shocked at himself as he takes a step back from the woman. He looks down and slowly reaches out to try to comfort her, but she slaps his hand away.
Joanne Reyes: Hey! You tell me when you do things like this to my son—my sons. They’re not fucking lab rats and I’m a [Custodian] just like the rest of you! You tell me! You include me! We’re on the same team!
Suddenly, Octavia’s voice comes through the phone in Joanna’s hand.
Octavia Brigard: (over the speakerphone) Sweetie, you know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you—
Joanna Reyes: (cutting her off) Well you did! How dare you do this to me?
Octavia Brigard: We knew it was sensitive, and we were instructed not to include you.
“Slim” Barbara Lee: (coolly) New protocol states we are to separate families on jobs. It’s necessary.
Finnian shifts uncomfortably.
Joanna Reyes: (voice low) Holding them here for days, and now look—we can’t tell them apart. If we had separated them from the jump then they wouldn’t be like this. This… this mess is on you.
Octavia Brigard: (over the speakerphone) If we hadn’t done it this way, we would’ve spent the rest of our lives wondering if we got the right one. If Noel was ever really Noel. Doing it this way… it was the best way.
Joanna turns to Barbara, her anger growing cold and more focused. Barbara closes her book and looks up, meeting Joanne’s gaze for the first time. She tries to hold her neutral expression, but the mask slips and softens apologetically. It was barely anything, but that piece of empathy is enough to dissolve Joanna’s anger—she is left hollow.
Octavia Brigard: (over the speakerphone) I am so sorry this happened… you know I love Noel like a nephew… I watched him grow up… this really was the best outcome.
Joanna Reyes: (defeatedly) You have no idea what this is doing to me…
Her knees buckle and she sinks to the floor, barely caught by Finnian. Tears fall silently. The Noels remain still, watching her with unreadable expressions.