Doppelgänger by Sean Munger

awakened by the sound of laughter coming from behind the door and, alarmed, I launched out of bed and opened it but there was no one there. It sounded like the laughter of a child. Then from downstairs I began to hear something. It was music but sounded quite different from a normal tune ~ tinny, like hearing it through a cone made of thin metal. The tune was very bright and cheerful but upon hearing it I felt the most dreadful terror I have ever experienced ~ surpassing even the terror of battle.
    The source of the music, I knew, was the third floor, northwest quarter bedroom where I saw the toys. The tinny metal sound was the tone of the child’s harpsichord. The tune I knew well ~ “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring,” a melody of J.S. Bach ~ played with such utter precision, not a single missed note. But so high ~ the pitch so high, squeaky, irritating ~ the shriek of a child’s lungs ~ and yes I began to hear shrieking ~ or thought it was shrieking ~ but it was laughter ~ coming from that accursed room ~ and when I opened the door in the darkness ~
    These words were written at the bottom of the page. When Anine turned over to the next page her eyes widened. The words written here were very haphazard, but the letters were very large, a strange silent scream leaping up at her from the diary:
    SADNESS
    SADNESS
    SADNESS
    ADNESS
    DNESS
    NESS
    MNESS
    MDNESS
    MADNESS
    SADNESS
    MADNESS
    MADNESS
    MADNESS
    ALICE
    The next few pages were gibberish. Or at least they appeared to be gibberish; they were solid blocks of letters, filling the entire page, line after line. Amongst them Anine perceived a pattern:
    jesujoyofmansdesiringholywisdomlovemostbright drawnbytheeoursoulsaspiringsoar touncreatedlightwordofgodourflesh thatfashionedwiththefireof lifeimpassioned strivingstilltotruthunknownsoaringdyingroundthythrone
    Then, a few pages after that, this appeared:
    ALICE!
    GOD MY DAUGHTER
    LOVE MY DAUGHTER
    I HURT YOU
    DID NOT MEAN TO HURT YOU
    GOD CURSE ME FOR HURTING YOU
    WANT YOUR HAPPINESS
    HAPPINESS IN HEAVEN
    DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN
    I WANT TO BE IN HEAVEN
    WILL SOON BE IN HEAVEN
    WITH ALICE
    The next page was difficult to look at. It was filled with a crude drawing of an ejaculating penis. Around Bradbury had drawn strange teardrop-like slashes which reminded Anine of the lacerations depicted on the body of Christ in paintings of the Passion. She did not know why but her mind was suddenly filled with the horrifying impression of a naked man flagellating himself while having an orgasm at the same time. She immediately turned the page and the image receded.
    She shuddered. Bradbury, she realized, was quite insane, but portions of the diary were written in a lucid state of mind. After the disturbing drawing she found another section that seemed to have been written while he was slightly more rational—but perhaps only slightly.
    Thursday, June 3, 1880. The clock in the hall reads 4 o’clock PM but I do not know what time it is ~ and I cannot leave this house. I have tried. After the madness that has overcome me on each of the preceding nights I awakened this morning and knew I must leave or the sadness will destroy my sanity for all time. But I cannot leave. Opening the front door takes me to the accursed corridor. It is a long corridor with golden silk walls. There are patterns on the walls painted in blue ~ patterns that repeat ~ a giraffe and a bear and a monkey marching along the walls ~ like on the child’s harpsichord, the dreadful child’s toy, the demon child, the child of Satan who giggles behind the door at night ~
    I cannot step into the corridor. If I step into the corridor with the patterned walls the sadness will explode my heart. Blood will spurt from my eyes and ears and I will die instantly. But yet I cannot stay.
    There is now a trumpet. I hear its music every moment of every day. It is a German silver trumpet tied with a red ribbon. It tweets and toots and squeals every moment ~ this horrible