Love Conquers All _The Sequel_

Chapter Eleven - Hello

Mary's POV:

In this world, I find its kill or be killed. And I've made it pretty clear that I'm the one who's doing the killing. I have one last target. Tex. The problem is, I can't decide whether or not I want to be rid of him. He's like... My sidekick or something. And I'd be entirely alone if I did kill him... But... I want the entire world to be made up of clones.

What if...

What if I made Tex his own clone... Then killed the real him and made the corpse my clone... That way, everyone's a clone and I still get to have Tex as my friend. An ingenious plan, from my perspective.

"Hey, Tex!" I call from the living room. He's making dinner in the kitchen.

He peeps around the corner, asking, "What?"

"C'mere," I say, and wave him over. My heart is pounding in my ribcage as I prepare to kill my only friend.

He walks out and stands in front of me, waiting for me to say something, and I feel utterly disgusted with myself as I fire ice at his feet so he's frozen into the ground. He looks up at me, suddenly panicked.

I have to look away as I freeze his mouth, so he can't say anything.

Quickly, I fly away and into the room of clones and grab one of them, and bring her back to the house and kill her. As my knife leaves her stomach, the body morphs into its old form, of the person I first killed before the clone. This is the body I will use to make the clone of Tex.

I make my clones by giving them a slice of my own soul. So if I can take a piece of Tex's soul and give it to the body, it should look like him, right? I guess we'll see.

I summon the golden beams of light, but instead of exerting them through my own soul, I fire them from my fingertips and toward Tex. They hit him in the stomach, and then shoot outward in every direction. I guide the light into the corpse, and then the room explodes in a flash of white color. And when all is visible again, the real Tex is unconscious, and a clone of Tex sits where the dead body was, wide eyed and blank-faced.

"You are my sidekick," I tell the clone. "You are my friend and you do as I say."

It nods, and I look over toward the unconscious Tex, limp and frozen in the steamy ice.

I walk over to him and, as quickly as I can in order to save myself from any grief, kill him. He's dead.

I melt the ice and his body drops to the floor. I turn him into my own clone and that's it. I am the only one left on thin planet. I've accomplished it.

The satisfaction is much less enjoyable than I thought it would be, now that I've lost my best friend. I should quit acting so sullen about it, though. I'm the one who killed him, it was my choice.

I fly to the theatre, carrying my new clone, and put her inside with the others. Tex is now my only friend, until I find out how to resurrect Michael.

I fly back into the house, and walk into the living room, where the clone of Tex is. I decide I'm gonna call him Tex 2.0, because I feel bad when I call him Tex, since it isn't really him.

I take Tex 2.0 by the arm and start to walk to my room.

"Wait in here," I say, and push him inside. "I want to be alone."

He walks over to the bed and sits down, staring at the wall. I step outside and close the door, then lock it.

For a moment, I am winded by grief. I regret killing Tex because Tex 2.0 is not even close to the same as him. I lean against the wall and put my head in my hands, sighing. I'm old and I'm a murderer, and I've destroyed the world. All my friends are dead, including Michael.

Rubbing my face, I sink to the floor, holding back tears. I should've thought this through. I am more alone than anyone has ever been, especially considering I am the reason everyone's dead. It was kind of painful having to kill Tom Hiddleston, Benedict Cumberbatch, Jensen Ackles, and Jared Padalecki, but at least I told them I loved them before killing them.

I don't know what to do next...

I lift my heavy head from my hands. My vision is temporarily blurred because of how much I was rubbing my eyes, and I am suddenly suspicious that something is in front of me. I can't tell what it is, if anything.

I let my eyes adjust, and blink several times. Whatever's in front of me, it looks like two black sticks.

I groggily shake my head, frowning and waiting still for my eyesight to fix itself.

I close my eyelids and sit still for a minute.

When my eyes open, my vision is clear, and I can now see that the black sticks are not sticks at all, but legs. Legs wearing black jeans.

Suddenly and uncontrollably, tears spill over my cheeks and run down my face and moments later I am sobbing in a puddle of confusion.

Shakily I stand, and as I do, I look up into the face of Michael Jackson, alive and breathing.