SWAMPLANDS by Paul D. Brazill
Elvis awoke in a cold, dank sweat, hungover from bourbon and bad dreams. The nightmare had consisted of him being hunted through a swamp by the murderous spectre of his stillborn twin and his pounding heartbeat seemed to echo through the mansion.
He stumbled into the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face and looked in the mirror to face his own ashen reflection and that of his grinning doppelganger.
Aaron tightly wrapped the umbilical cord around Elvis' throat and pulled it until his brother breathed no more.
The king is dead, long live the king, he muttered.
He stumbled into the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face and looked in the mirror to face his own ashen reflection and that of his grinning doppelganger.
Aaron tightly wrapped the umbilical cord around Elvis' throat and pulled it until his brother breathed no more.
The king is dead, long live the king, he muttered.
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Author's Note
This story has been at Flashshots and A Twist Of Noir. Less than 100 words was the prompt.
Other stories by Paul David Brazill
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dark, brutal, oddly funny.
Swamplands, Graceland... always creepy! Like a short scene from a horror flick.
always the fear of a surviving twin.
ta for stopping by.
Yikes--And with an umbilical cord!