Fred continued to scuttle backward across the floor. His hand slid in a pool of blood, coming into contact with his hammer. His fist closed around it.
The visitor picked his control unit up, clutching it to his chest. He was inhaling deeply, trying to calm himself. "I’m sorry. I’ll leave. I just need to press this button. Please don’t hurt me."
Fred stood up, hammer in hand, slick with blood. He couldn’t just let this visitor leave. He had come too far.
"I’m sorry."
Fred walked toward the visitor. He swung the hammer just as the visitor pressed the button, disappearing from this universe.
Hm, Fred thought, that can’t be good.
~~~~~
The light receded, and Fred could tell from the gray dial on the clock that he had returned to his own universe. He dropped to the hallway floor. His arms, his hand and his face were all covered in cuts from where that maniac had attacked him. None of them were too deep, but they stung.
What just happened? He was totally unprepared for this. He walked back into his kitchen and stared at the floor. His floor was fine, but he couldn’t get the image of the body he had just seen out of his mind. Was that another version of myself already dead? Am I some kind of crazed killer in that universe?
Suddenly, a bright light materialized in the center of the kitchen.
Oh no, he’s found me!
Fred ran into the bedroom and slammed the door, throwing the control unit on the bed. There wasn’t any lock on the door, but he wedged a chair behind it. He got down on the floor and curled into a ball.
"Fred?" from the kitchen a voice called out to him, "Hello?"
"GO AWAY!" he yelled, almost sobbing. "I didn’t see anything. I swear!"
"It’s okay! I won’t hurt you. Please come out. It’s okay."
The voice came closer. Fred suddenly realized this person was ... female? Fred was confused. "What do you want?"
"I just want to talk."
Fred moved the chair away from the door and opened it a crack. Standing there in the hallway was himself. But not the same. It was — she was — a woman. She had long brown curly hair and wore glasses, but he could see his own basic features in her face.
"Hi," she said. She held up her hands. "I’m unarmed, I swear. I won’t hurt you."
Fred opened the door. "Are you ... me?"
"Kinda, yeah. My name is Frederica, but most people just call me Fred." She smiled. A nice smile.
"That’s ... confusing." Fred took a good look at his female counterpart. She was wearing jeans much like his own, but they looked better on her. He found himself filled with thoughts that were weird and unsettling.
She touched his arm, snapping him out of his daze. "Are you okay? Did Fred10hurt you?"
"A little ... it hurts." Fred looked at his bloody arms. "But I’ll live. Wait, what did you call him?"
"Let’s sit down and I’ll explain." She led him into the kitchen and gestured to the empty chair. "Would you like some—"
"Green tea? Yes, that would be great."
She smiled at him. "I figured as much. We are the same person, you know." Realizing the obvious flaw in her argument, she pointed to her notably different body. "Just one chromosome apart."
She knew her way around his kitchen, that much was clear. And she hadn’t attacked him with a knife, so that was also a plus.
"So," she said, as she filled the electric kettle, one of his few unmolested appliances, "let’s start at the beginning. As you already figured out, your theories about the multiverse are correct. There are an infinite number of us out there, most of whom are, like yourself, either professional or amateur scientists."
"I teach 10th grade math," Fred said, a little embarrassed. "I couldn’t afford the tuition at MIT."
She nodded. "That’s common. In most universes, we either got that scholarship to MIT or had to fend for ourselves. I guess I was one of the lucky ones."
"So you mean you’re—"
"A full-time engineer, yeah. I scored some pretty lucrative patents right out of college, so I had access to more resources than most of us. I completed my machine almost six months ago."
Fred was impressed. And more than a little bit jealous. Not that he minded his life all that much. He had gone to a state school and things hadn’t worked out so badly for him. But MIT! It had been hard to give up on those dreams.
She poured his hot water into a mug and placed a tea bag in it.
"I was the first to jump between dimensions. I jumped in and took notes quietly, waiting for the rest of you to catch up to me. You can refer to me as Fred2 if you like."
"I take it there’s no Fred Prime because—"
"Because we’re all the same. I didn’t want anyone to think I considered myself the progenitor." She handed him the mug.
He smiled and fiddled with the tea bag. He would have done the same thing.
Fred cocked an eyebrow. "Wait, so what number am I?"
She smiled. "You’re Fred94."
Fred whistled. "Wow."
"Fred10’s world is a nexus. I’ve seen others, but his has turned out to be the biggest one by far. Freds are just drawn to that world, for some reason I’ve yet to discover. Last night about thirty of you turned on your machines and jumped into his kitchen. Unfortunately this Fred turned out to be ... unstable. And he’s no scientist. He’s a car salesman, if you can imagine."
"I can believe that," he said. Fred had been interested in cars as a kid. Big, bright sports cars. He loved to build models of them and would stare at them for hours. "If I hadn’t decided I was more interested in the engine than the car, I might have done the same thing."
"I was the same way. We are all the same person," she reminded him again.
She stood up. "Well, Fred, I’m sorry, but I have to leave. While we’ve been chatting here, 10 has been on the loose."
"Wait," Fred said. "What are you going to do? Can I help?"
"We’re going to stop him," she said. "You can come with me, if you like. You have as much right as any of us — more, even," she gestured to his wounds, which weren’t bleeding anymore, but still looked nasty. "Do you still have your control unit?"
"It’s in the bedroom," he said. "But it only goes to one place, and that’s his dimension."
"That's where we're going," she said. "Let’s hurry. The others are waiting."
~~~~~
Fred10 paced around his bedroom. He was worried. At around 7 AM the visitors stopped appearing, and he knew something was up.
It was possible, he supposed, that the rest of the Freds out there were going to a different dimension, or even that there were no more Freds jumping between universes. But coming so soon after he had let one slip away? He didn’t buy it. Something was clearly wrong.
He had already discovered that blood was key. It had taken a lot of work, but he had figured out that by creating ever-increasing circles of blood, he could direct the visitors to different locations. All he had to do was smear a little blood on each wall, and they would materialize in a different room. It all felt so ... biblical. He embraced the reference, painting doors with a bloody X.
Doing this had invigorated him. By painting his whole house, he could get them to materialize in his backyard. Which really confused the travelers, who left from their kitchen and appeared behind the house. They appeared in a daze, stumbling about. It made knocking them out almost too easy.
When he had made full use of the bodies, he piled them in the garage. They would probably start to smell in a couple of hours, but he had other problems right now. He knew — he knew — that they were going to come for him. It was, after all, what he would do, and weren’t they all the same person?
He didn’t have much to fight back with. His chef’s knife, a hammer, a baseball bat. But more than anything he needed a plan. A way to get out of this universe, this life.
What was keeping him here, after all? He was an okay salesman, but it’s not like he was ever going to ru
n his own shop. He just didn’t have the head for it. He liked driving cars, not selling them. And the truth was that he probably cared more about the engines than the cars themselves. He just hadn’t admitted it to himself before.
But these visitors ... these guys had the life! They had enough disposable income to build machines capable of interdimensional travel! They had to be loaded.
All he had to do was figure out how to take someone’s place. He wasn’t totally sure how just yet, but he already knew that the blood was the key. He just needed more of it.
~~~~~
"So uh, now what?" asked Fred94. He was standing across the street from his house. Only it wasn’t really his house he was looking at, it was Fred10’s house. It was all very confusing. Not helping matters was the fact that he was standing next to three copies of himself, each from different dimensions. The four of them had just arrived, and he was very anxious to get on with it.
They made quite a scene, standing there. As the only woman of the group, Fred2 was the most different from the others. Fred94 was doing his best to ignore her physical distinctions, but he found his eyes constantly wandering back to the way her shirt hung on her body. Fred16 looked almost the same as Fred94, but with about thirty more pounds of muscle mass, and a skin tone that suggested he had recently spent time at a tanning salon. He was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt to show off his muscular arms and holding an aluminum baseball bat. He generally looked like someone Fred94 wouldn’t want to mess with, but his presence here was somewhat comforting. Fred22, on the other hand, was Fred16’s polar opposite. This guy must have taken the extreme academic route, as he looked even more weak and intellectual than Fred94. His glasses were thicker than Fred2’s, and his posture was hunched, like he hadn’t gotten up from his desk in a decade. He was the only one of them not wearing jeans. Instead he had on some well-worn slacks. This guy didn’t look like the jeans type.
"It’s quite simple, really. We talk to Fred10 and get him to stop with all this foolishness." And with that, Fred22 started to walk toward the house.
"Hold up," said Fred2. "I’ll go."
Fred22 turned and looked at her. "I don’t think that’s a good idea. No offense my dear, but your ... feminine aspects may make an already bad situation significantly worse."
"That’s ridiculous," she shot back. "Of all of us, I’m the one with the most experience talking to alternate versions of ourselves." She stood there for a moment, thinking. "Why don't we vote on it?"
Almost immediately, Fred16 spoke up. "I’m with the professor," he gestured with his thumb toward Fred22. "If there’s any trouble, I’ll come busting in." He held up his baseball bat with pride. "But I think we should give him a shot first."
"Thank you, 16," replied Fred22 with a nod towards his burly counterpart. "That’s two against one. What say you, 94?"
They all turned to look at Fred94.
"I, uh," he stammered.
Fred16 poked him in the chest. "Spit it out, dude. There’s a psycho on the loose."
"I think it should probably be 22," Fred94 said.
"Hmf!" Fred2 clearly wasn’t pleased.
"I just think he has a point. What if this guy is a crazy rapist or something?"
"Indeed," Fred22 said. "We have no way of knowing how he’ll react to seeing a woman. He’s shown every sign thus far of extreme psychopathy when it comes to his interdimensional counterparts. He may project onto you feelings of sexual aggression, and we’ve already seen he has no boundaries."
"Fine," Fred2 conceded. "Let’s just get it over with."
~~~~~
It was nearly 8 AM when his doorbell rang.
Fred10 opened the door. Standing there on his front porch was a copy of himself. A particularly nerdy copy of himself, but still distinctly a Fred.
"Greetings, Fred," his doppelganger said. "May I come in?"
Fred10 stepped back and gestured for his visitor to come inside.
"We number ourselves for easy reference," said the visitor as he stepped over the threshold. "You may refer to me as Fred22."
"Which one am I?"
"You’re number 10."
"Right."
Fred10 led Fred22 into the kitchen and gestured for him to sit down. They had to step over several pools of blood along the way. Fred10 had gotten used to this, and if it bothered 22, he kept it to himself.
Fred22 sat down and hunched over the table.
"Can I get you a—"
"Tea? No thank you."
"Was gonna say beer, actually," Fred10 said. "You cool if I grab one for myself?"
"By all means," replied Fred22.
"Thanks. It's been a long night."
"I suppose it has," Fred22 deadpanned. "Now 10, as I’m sure you have surmised, we’re a little concerned by your recent actions." He gestured to the blood on the walls.
Fred10 nodded in silent agreement. He opened the refrigerator and rifled around. "Crap. I’m all out of cold beer. Should have another six pack in the garage. You mind if I go get it?"
"Not at all," Fred22 replied.
Fred10 walked out into the garage.
Fred22 sat there, looking around. He couldn’t see them, but he could definitely smell the bodies in the garage. This whole situation deeply disturbed him, but he was certain he could reason with Fred10. This unseemly business with corpses aside, 10 was the same as himself. Underneath that coarse exterior, he should be a reasonable man, open to civil discussion. And thus far everything was perfectly fine, all very formal and cordial.
He glanced at the clock. It had been five minutes. "Is everything all right out there?"
"Just peachy," Fred10 called back from the garage. "I'm still looking. That beer is around here somewhere." Sounds of Fred10 rifling through boxes came from the garage. "So hey, Mr. 22. Are you well off? In your universe, I mean."
Fred22 smiled with a bit of pride. "I don't like to brag," he said, which was of course, a complete lie. He loved to talk about his accomplishments. "But I've made a fair amount of money, yes. Investments here and there. Interdimensional travel is really just a hobby for me."
"Sounds like you have quite the life."
"I enjoy myself."
"I'm sure you do," said Fred10, suddenly back in the kitchen.
Fred22 turned around to see 10 standing above him, holding a long black cable.
"I think you'll do just fine."
Fred 10 slipped the cable around 22’s neck and pulled it taut. 22 raised his hands to grab at the cable, but it was thick and Fred10 was pulling it very, very tight. He kicked his legs out in a vain attempt to hit something, anything. He reached back to try and scratch Fred10, to get him to stop. Nothing worked. Everything went black.
~~~~~
"He’s been in there too long," said Fred94. The three of them had moved across the street and were standing, staring at the house. It had been twenty minutes since 22 entered, and they hadn’t heard a peep since then.
Fred2 nodded in agreement. "I’m starting to think you’re right."
"Let’s go get him," said Fred16. He tapped his bat against his leg.
Fred2 nodded again. "I don’t think we have any choice. But let me go in first. I don’t care what 22 said. I think I can talk him down."
"Fine," said Fred16, swinging his baseball bat through the air. It made an impressive whiff sound as it struck the air. "But I’ll be right behind you."
"Me too," added Fred94. He wasn’t sure what exactly he could do, but he had agreed to come along, and by God he was going to contribute.
Fred2 approached the door. "You two ready?"
Fred94 and Fred16 were crouched behind a tree. "Let’s do it," called out 16.
Fred2 nodded and knocked on the door.
There was no answer.
She knocked again. No answer.
Fred2 leaned in and pushed the door, which swung open with a soft creaking sound. "Hello?" she called out.
There was no answer.
She stepped inside.
>
~~~~~
Fred94 watched 2 go inside. "Should we go after her?"
"I’m not going to chance it," replied Fred16, standing up.
"Hey, wait for me!" Fred94 got up and followed 16 into the house.
The house was a horror show. There was blood — Fred blood, 94 assumed — everywhere. It was thick and dry and seemed to have been smeared on the walls by hand. The hallway was covered in thick puddles of congealing blood.
From the bathroom down the hall came a shriek that could only have been Fred2.
Fred16 and 94 ran down the hall, avoiding the blood as best they could.
They entered the bathroom.
Fred2 was standing there looking down at Fred10, who was lying in the bathtub, naked and nearly unconscious, his eyes struggling to stay open. Despite his condition, he was smiling. Next to him was the body of Fred22. The corpse had several dark bruises on his neck, but that probably wasn’t what killed him. There was a tube running from Fred22’s arm into 10’s wrist. It looked like Fred10 had attempted some kind of blood transfusion.
Given his inexperience in such things, it had been an inefficient process, to say the least. Most of the blood pooled in the bathtub around his bare legs. In his left hand Fred10 clutched a control unit, probably the one 22 had used to get to this universe.
"Almost ... done," said Fred10, although it was clearly a struggle to speak. "Just a little bit more and I’ll be ready to go."
Fred16 dropped his baseball bat. He stumbled backward down the hall. "I ... I need some air."
Fred2 turned to 94. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. "We’re too late."
"Not for me, lady," croaked Fred10, still smiling. He tilted his head at the control unit. "I’m out of here." Fred10 raised the control unit. As he lifted his left arm, Fred94 saw for the first time the wound that ran along the vein. Fred10 must have drained most of his own blood before starting the transfusion. It had been patched up hastily with electrical tape, but was still bleeding. What was the point of all of this?
Fred2 leaned in. "Please, don’t do this. You don’t know what will happen."
"Yeah I do," said Fred10. "It’s the blood. The blood is how it all works."
"But—"
She was cut off by the sudden flash of light. Fred10 had pressed the button.
The light was unlike anything any of them had ever seen. It flooded out from Fred22’s body, from the walls where his blood had spattered, from the floor where it had dripped. The tube that connected Fred22 to 10 lit up, casting light across the bathroom. The tub became a shimmering sea of light.