Flash Fiction Contest #14 Prompt: Clone
You aren't supposed to move like that. Clones are supposed to sleep until revived. Not flutter their eyelashes when I stand before your pod. It's bad enough seeing my inanimate face through the milky glass. Seeing you move, seeing you twitch, is worse.
A knock. Your right pointer finger banged against the pod. I'm sure of it.
My hands shaking, I call the hotline, pressing 6 for *I think my clone is waking up*.
"The pod is filled with a sedative, nutrient gas that keeps the clone alive and in a coma-like state," the recording says. "Less than 0.000001% of clones awaken prematurely."
A scraaaaape fills the air behind me—I whirl around but you're still—and the telephone voice rambles on. I press 7 for *My clone is making noises*.
"The gas filter in the pod makes a hissing sound once per hour. Beyond that, you may hear a pop when a new canister of sedative is punctured."
That wasn't a hiss or a pop. Now your hands are sliding against the glass, pressing so hard I can see your fingerprints...my fingerprints.
You're crying. I have to help you, get you out of there. I press 4 for *Emergency revival*.
I fetch the transponder and—click!—the door swings wide.
"Do not attempt to revive your clone on your own. Improper revival can lead to dangerous results.
With a deep breath, you emerge from the pod. Your eyes are focused. Your stomach growls. You open your mouth.
*goosebumps* So creepy. I totally
This is Laura's second win, and you can read her first winning entry here.
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