Chapter 3: Me, Myself and I

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: In this chapter, and going forward, I refer occasionally to "dark Ratchet".  This has nothing to do with his coloration, but rather his nature.  Just FYI.

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"Evil is powerless if the good are unafraid." - Ronald Reagan

Ratchet groaned as he sluggishly regained consciousness. He worked to clear his head and, once his vision cleared, found himself secured to the wall of one of the enclosures just a few inches off the floor. His arms and legs trapped in large metal braces which appeared to have some power running through them, and lights indicating power. And, to top it all off, he had a terrible, throbbing headache as a result of the kick to his forehead. He attempted to wrest his arms and legs free, to no avail. They were securely restrained by the braces.

Looking around the room, he noticed it was rather spartan. A simple bench for a bed, similar to the one the other Ratchet had in his space. There was also a sink and a recessed area for bathroom needs. A small, simple chair sat near the bed. Clank, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"Clank? Clank, where are you?!" As he called loudly for his friend, a shadowy figure rounded the corner of the doorway into the enclosure. It was him. That third Ratchet, the sinister creature who had kicked him. Ratchet grit his teeth, grunting and growling as he made further attempts to pull free of the restraints. "You son of a bitch! Are you the sick freak who owns this hellhole?!"

Ratchet stared hard at his dark double, who laughed slowly. This Ratchet had similar clothes, but they were in dark, muted tones. Black and blood red. Where the lighted breastplate on Ratchet's harness was, on this Ratchet was a skull motif with glowing red eyes. He approached to within a few inches, placed one hand upon the wall very close to Ratchet's head, and leaned in. "Son of a bitch'. Hm. Not entirely inaccurate. She was quite a badass. But not too wise of you considering you're the one in restraints, hm?"

Ratchet scowled at him. "Where's Clank? Why have you done this? And what have you done to that other Ratchet and his Clank??"

"All in good time. For now, I have a friend to re-introduce you to." The dark Ratchet looked down for a second, as if lost in thought. "Well, not really a friend. Certainly not mine. But it appears you were pretty merciful to him." He clucked his tongue. "And I can't have that. It reflects very poorly upon me." He winced and shuddered, shaking off the thought.

The dark Ratchet raised his hand and snapped his fingers. A tall tharpod rounded the corner of the enclosure doorway, dragging the young tharpod, who was trying to break into the building earlier that day, by the scruff of the neck. The young fellow was struggling with all his energy against his captor, to no avail. "Please sir! I didn't know he was an imposter! I am truly sorry! I can make it up to you! I can be a good servant! I really can!"

The sinister lombax walked over to him, his hands crossed behind his back. He nodded to the large tharpod, who released the teenager and stepped back into the doorway. Circling the teen, he smiled and locked his eyes upon his. "You didn't realize that this lombax wasn't me; isn't that what you told my guard?"

The teen shrank in fear, cowering and shivering, refusing to look directly into the dark Ratchet's eyes. "Y...yes sir! But he tricked me! He did! I was trying to stop someone else from breaking in! I...I was! I promise you!" The teenager's speech became progressively more frantic, more desperate.

Dark Ratchet circled around in front of him, pursing his lips and feigning concern with a nod and a furrowed brow.

"I was ready for punishment!" the teen continued manically. "I deserved it for being so sloppy! I was ready to pay him...um, I mean you, in fine Marcadian f-fire gems! It would have been a hefty compensation! But he just let me leave, untouched! I knew something wasn't right!"

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