Free MEMORIAM by Rachel Broom

If there was, it was probably a trap set up by Trent. He taught me never to trust man-made paths. I heard a rustle in the trees that made me cock my gun.
    “Hello? Trent, if that’s you it’s not funny,” I yelled out.
    Was Trent somewhere in here? Was he hiding and expecting me to find him and shoot him with this fake gun? No one appeared so I kept walking. Soon my ears rang from the cold and my eyes were strained from trying to see through the fog. I cupped my hands over my face to warm my lips and nose. There was a slight moan, as if the trees were sighing. I lowered my gun and rested against a tree, listening to the quiet hum of the wind. Then I felt it; someone was watching me.
    I spotted a figure out of the corner of my eye. I snaked my way around the tree and poked my head out. A man with rigid cheekbones and small frame sprang out from a grouping of pines, pointing a gun at me. I screamed and jumped back, my heart racing. Was that man real? If not, what was he?
    It was seeing the man’s eyes that made me sure I could shoot him. They were red. I swallowed and came out from my hiding spot. My finger rested on the trigger. Whatever this creature was, he had to be part of the simulation.
    “He’s not real, Vi,” I said to myself. “Just shoot him and he’ll be gone.” I gripped my gun tighter. “Sorry,” I said. The gun fired and the man was gone. I was alone once more.
    I was tired. An hour and a half had to have passed since I had run into the red-eyed man and I was still wandering around trying to find a way out. The end had to be close. Up ahead I spotted an old cabin that looked abandoned. I sighed in relief and broke into a run, leaving my gun in the leaves as I climbed the steps and burst through the door. A warm feeling swelled in my chest as if I were home.
    It was a one-room cabin. In one corner was a pile of blankets and in the other a fireplace with two logs, charcoaled and brittle. I went over and nudged the blankets. To my surprise they moved. Before I knew what was happening an arm poked out, then a leg, and then a head.
    I shouldn’t have dropped my gun back in the forest. The realization of my big mistake hit me as a figure rose from the blankets. It was a woman. She had short dark hair that hid half of her face and she was wearing an old jacket that hung on her like a sack. The woman turned and spotted me. Curiosity perked its head up when I saw her face. She had the same small lips, the big eyes, and the same puzzled look as me.
    I shook my head. “No. This isn’t real.”
    The woman was me. That was my hair. Her red eyes looked into my hazel ones. On the woman’s wrist was a Trux tattoo. Confusion, hate, and sadness exploded inside of me. What was happening?
    “Trent, get me out!” I yelled, looking around. “I know you can hear me! Get me out!”
    “He can’t hear you,” she said. She sounded just like me.
    The blankets fell at the woman’s feet. I backed up against the cabin wall, fear ringing in my ears. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be me. She was evil, just like that red-eyed man. 
    She reached forward and grabbed my arm, dragging me over to the fireplace in the corner where I spotted a branding stick. It had the Trux symbol at the end.
    “No.” I tried to pull away. She climbed on top of me and held the stick in one hand, bringing it close to my arm.
    “Stop it!” I screamed. “I’m not one of you!”
    Her red eyes widened. “You have my eyes.”
    “That’s because we’re the same person.”  
    The woman’s eyes widened and her body began to twitch. Within seconds she vanished. I was alone in the cabin once more. I pulled my knees to my chest and licked my lips.
    “You’re done. It’s over. ” I recognized Trent’s shoes in front of me and saw him standing over me. The cabin was gone. Instead I was in a small white room, similar to the Memoriam one.
    “What happened to the forest?”
    “The simulation is over...along with the hallucinations.