Real.Doc - Part 2 - Joe (English Version)

Interrogation

Then, Chaos arrived.

"So..." he said as he approached.

"Sit down," Ron said.

"Don't you think we should get away from the house to continue this conversation?"

"Good idea," Ron agreed. "Lilly, can you do it? We can go sit by the pool if you're up for it."

Ron was worried, given my weakness over the last few days, but I felt fine at the moment.

"Yes, let's go there."

We got up and walked away from the house. On the way, Chaos asked Ron, "And my mother?" He was asking about Mary. I found it strange that he used that term. After all, if he was trying to convince us that he was Joe, why use the term 'my mother'?

"Sleeping," Ron said. "She said she had a headache. She gets some really nasty ones sometimes."

"Yes. It was worse in the desert. She seems to be improving here."

"Do you like her?" Ron asked Chaos.

"She's nice, apart from the constant threats."

"Yeah..." Ron agreed, understanding perfectly what Chaos meant.

"Is that why you're attracted to her? Because she keeps you in line?" Joe asked, like a naughty boy.

Ron laughed awkwardly. I think that was the first time I saw him like that. He looked like a little boy for a moment there.

We arrived at the tables near the pool. Chaos and I sat in the chairs, and Ron sat in a lounge chair next to us. Chaos became serious and asked me, "Ready to do this?"

"I am."

"OK, let's go. Of course, it would be a lot easier if you just believed me, but... well, here I am."

"Hmm... Why are you so young?" Ron began, already firing off the first question.

"I think it's part of the process. I don't know how she did it. I believe she idealized how I should be or be a specific age."

"To reflect Chaos," Ron said. "And how is your relationship with her? I mean, it all must have sounded really weird."

"She has a strong hold on me. She could literally kill me in the blink of an eye, so let's just say I didn't argue much and focused on being who she wanted me to be."

"But how would you know? You never met him."

"I am Chaos, in a sense; he was generated from me in a process that resembles a clone. Every cell of him came out of me. He just made different choices in life, but our essence is the same."

I looked at him, lost. In all my years with him, I had never seen anything but good things. How could that monster be inside him?

"Can you... bring him in now?" asked Ron.

Chaos remained silent for a while and then straightened up in the chair, changing his expression. He took a deep, tired breath and said, "This conversation is useless, as useless as my stay here." Ron and I were impressed with the transformation. "As soon as my mother gets better, we will return to the desert. I can't stand being stuck here much longer."

"You're very good," I confessed.

"As I said, this conversation was useless... And you shouldn't be impressed. I'm not who you think."

That statement gave me goosebumps. A second ago, he was arguing the opposite.

"Impressive," said Ron.

"You're weak," Chaos said to Ron, laughing. "I don't know what my mother sees in you."

"Okay, you can stop now," I asked, but he didn't obey. Instead, he looked at me with that same desert look of disdain.

"Speaking of love, where is that Shannon? I need company tonight."

I looked at him, amazed, thinking a thousand things. Was it Chaos wanting to hurt me? Or was it Joe, also wanting to hurt me? Or even Chaos, pretending to be Joe and wanting to hurt me? Chaos, for depravity. Joe, out of jealousy? There were two people inside that being, and they both had their own reasons for attacking me.

"I wouldn't mess with that one if I were you," Ron said. "If you want fun, it's better to look for it in a neutral environment in the city."

So, I had an idea and gestured to Ron, asking him to wait a little.

"What happened that day at Les's house?" I asked Chaos.

"Apparently I died," he replied with his strong accent.

"Please," I asked again. I wanted him to tell me what happened that day. It would be my proof that he was Chaos.

Perhaps this was the culmination of my demonstration of innocence, faced with a possible show that Chaos was putting on for us.

"Argh! I hate vampires."

"Anything," I insisted in a pleading tone. He changed his tone, seeming to try to calm me down.

"I have no memory of my death," he replied, still with an accent.

"Did you fight? Did they take your blood? Were you injured? Tell me something, anything!" I asked, as if my life depended on that answer.

"I won't invent anything just to satisfy your wishes."

"I need to know."

(This interrogation continues in the next part.)