[Scene: The room is dim, lit only by a flickering candle. Shadows slither across the walls. The Unknown Lover sits across from the Unknown Man, his eyes distant. The air between them is thick with tension.]
Unknown Man:
“You’ve never told me what really happened… when she died.”
Unknown Lover:
“Do you think I haven’t tried to forget? That I don’t relive it every night?”
Unknown Man:
“But it wasn’t just death, was it? Something else happened. She came back, didn’t she?”
Unknown Lover:
[They look away, voice heavy with grief.]
“She didn’t come back. Not really. Something came back in her place.”
Unknown Man:
“Are you sure? If yes, what was it then?”
Unknown Lover:
“I don’t know. I don’t know what it was… but it wasn’t her. It looked like her, spoke like her. It even knew things only she knew, but… it wasn’t her.”
[The Unknown lover's hands tremble slightly as they speak.]
“It was something wearing her face, pretending. Trying to be her.”
Unknown Man:
“But was it dangerous?”
Unknown Lover:
“No… not in the way you think. It wasn’t violent or cruel. It was… almost kind. But it wasn’t her. I couldn’t feel her in it, no matter how hard I tried.”
Unknown Man:
[Softly]
“It still cared for you till the end, didn’t it?”
Unknown Lover:
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
[He hesitates, staring into the flickering candle.]
“Yes… or at least, it thought it did. It knew the way she loved me, remembered everything. But it wasn’t the same. There was something off, something hollow behind the way it looked at me.”
[His voice drops to a whisper.]
“I could feel the absence of her. Every moment with it… reminded me of her loss.”
Unknown Man:
“So you knew, deep down, that she was truly gone and still...”
Unknown Lover:
“Yes. Even though it had her voice, her memories… it wasn’t her heart but...”
[He close their eyes, and his voice lowers as if reciting a memory he can never break free from.]
“Oh, your beautiful face at Death’s own rite,
Cold corpse as you were, in woods deep.
A sinister slither near your crimson heap,
Creaking bones, stiffened muscles of your last sleep.”
[The Unknown Man leans forward, listening intently as the Unknown Lover continues in a broken, distant tone; which to be fair he would never be able to understand.]
Unknown Lover:
“The frogs croaked in panicked repetition,
The insects chittered in agitation.
With a delayed thump of heart,
Life came back, to old end new start.”
Unknown Man:
“But it wasn’t really life, was it?”
Unknown Lover:
“No… it was something else entirely. It moved like her, but her spirit was gone. Whatever was left… it was just an echo.”
[He pause, as if the truth is too much to for him bear.]
“I could see it wasn’t her, but something trying desperately to be her.”
Unknown Man:
“And you couldn’t love it, could you?”
Unknown Lover:
“I wanted to. But I couldn’t. No matter how much I tried to believe she was back, I knew… it wasn’t her anymore. Just a shadow of who she was.”
[He lower their voice, almost a whisper.]
“But the vigorous life was yours no more,
For it has taken over, your mind and your soul.
Unknown its origin, unknown its goals,
Unknown its reason to choose such a role.”
[A long silence fills the room as they both sit by each other, not one daring to speak first.]
Unknown Man:
“It still felt something though. If it had her memories, her feelings… was it still love?”
Unknown Lover:
[He looks up, his voice strained, as if he have asked himself this question thousand times.]
“I don’t know. It felt like love, but without her, can you even call it that? If it’s not her, how can it be the same?”
Unknown Man:
“Is it still called love?”
Unknown Lover:
“That’s what I’ve been asking myself every day.”
