The Rewritten Memory

"The cloning technology is getting worse. Recently, ten clones killed the original human last night in a brutal manner.... They entered the original one's house without any trace, so everyone, please be alert...." The reporter's voice rang through the silent hall. A man let out a deep, drained exhale, escaping his lips like a slowly deflating balloon. His broad shoulders slumped against the comfortable sofa, and his index finger turned off the running LED television with a remote as he loosened the tight collar neck button. In tiredness, his heavy eyelids were slowly closing, seeking rest to escape reality.

A sudden, automatic voice announced in a machine tone, "Heat water ready," breaking a pleasant rest and waking him. He yawned, covering his mouth as he rose, pushing himself towards his room with an unfocused sleepy gaze. A slight looseness in his sapped shoulder as he absently unbuttoned the remaining ones. He stood outside the washroom, sensor sensing his presence, and the glass door automatically opened.

The bathroom was vast, comfortable, with neatly arranged products, clean, and every system automated. When he entered, the fresh, mild scent of lavender spread automatically throughout the entire bathroom. He stood near the shower, adjusting the water's heating level before pressing the shower button. Without a delay, the warm water sprays on his tired body like rain falls from the cloudy sky, and it makes him feel alive again.

Heat waves created a gentle white stream of fog in the entire bathroom as warm water droplets flowed down his broad shoulder to the floor. "Hmm! It feels so good..." he whispered in a deep, low voice as he closed his blue eyes, and his head lifted to the shower. His silky hair fell across his face, and he smoothly combed it with his fingers and swept it back. Then he turned off the shower, grabbed a towel from the hanger, and wrapped it around his sculpted, toned, narrow waist and tapped his wet hair with his other hand.

As he walked towards his room hall, a sudden, unknown sharp sound came from a nearby room. "What's that?" he wondered as his brows drew together, almost touching at the glabella after remembering the latest news. "The cloning technology is getting worse-- They entered without any trace, and everyone, please be alert...." A reporter's voice repeated in his ear as a cold tremor snaked down his spine.

"What's that sound? What if the news became true?" He whispered in a doubtful tone as he moved slowly, each step clear and deliberate, towards his wooden cupboard. Then opened a drawer and grabbed a gun, and returned silently in the direction of the sound. His veiny hands reached the doorknob and opened the room quickly, but the room was consumed by dead silence and darkness. "Ziri... turn on the light," he commanded. The dim room began to brighten with a soft yellow glow that flickered on.

His eyes glanced behind him, checking every side of the room. Then his gaze was sharp and wary, shifting in front. Suddenly, a man appeared in front of him from nowhere. He stood straight, facing a wall, and his shadow fell on the floor. His gaze was fixed on the grey wall, but his mind was calculating every move behind him. His presence carried an infinite aura that filled the entire room.

"Who are you? Turn around," he ordered. His piercing voice cut the silence like a knife as his finger was ready to tighten around the trigger and point his gun towards the unknown person.

A calm smirk didn't disappear as the unknown man slowly raised both his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I knew you had a gun in your left hand ... Wyatt," he answered, his tone clear and smooth, carrying effortless confidence in the tense air.

"Huh!" How the hell did he guess correctly...? Without turning back... Wyatt wondered in uncertainty and stood frozen as ice in shock as his brows narrowing in bewildered confusion when he heard the familiar voice. But without getting destroyed, still, his gaze was focused, and his gun was targeted on him like a sniper. "I said, turn around," he warned him again, his cutting tone left no room for argument.

"Okay!" the man answered in a cool voice; he slowly turned his legs towards Wyatt's side, and his movements were casual and confident. His gaze showed no fear, even in the dim light.

Wyatt's pupils dilated when the man turned. After watching, the unknown's identity was revealed; he couldn't take his eyes off a defined jawline, blue eyes, brown hair with an undercut style, and wearing a stylish black leather jacket and adding a bright, easy smile appeared on the man's chiselled lips. 

"What the hell?" Wyatt exclaimed, his mouth slightly falling open as he blinked twice to clear his vision, still trying to figure out if he was awake or dreaming.

"You are awake, my boy... Are you surprised watching me?" a man asked,  arching his one eyebrow with a playful wink at Wyatt.

"Who the hell are you?" Wyatt repeated, his lips tight without any patience in his tone, and his fingers gripping the gun tightly and pointing him, not showing his nervousness.

"Are you fucking blind, Wyatt?" A man raised his voice in disbelief at Wyatt's response, rolling his hunter eyes, showing clear disappointment. Then, with a casual shrug, he started, "I am you... You can't see that?" Stepping forward, he pointed at himself and added, "Look... I am you! Wyatt Calloway" 

 Me? Wyatt brows that quickly smoothed after realising the clone technology. He gripped the gun tightly, and his gaze darted to the shoes and his forward movements. "Step back!  Back.... I am the one, Wyatt here. You must be cloned to kill the original one! Isn't it?" he roared, pointing the gun at him like a clear threat.

In the Future version, Calloway's eyes widen and intensify deeply with Wyatt's sudden coldness. "Wyatt, stop getting freaked.... I am not going to hurt you. I just want to warn you about something... I know you're puzzled, but I can clarify your doubts. Just listen to my words. " He stepped closer to Wyatt, trying to de-escalate the situation.

Wyatt understands that he was manipulated, how thoroughly Calloway had been playing in front of him, but Wyatt didn't give a damn. "Fuck off, there... Raise your hand if you took another step. The bullet will be in your head". Wyatt threatened, his gaze locked on him, cold and unwavering.

Calloway let out a disappointed breath as his jaw clenched tight in the absence of patience. He slowly raises both his hands in surrender without a choice and stands silently. Fuck... I was dumb as hell three years ago... stupid, stubborn jerk!!! He yelled as an irritated smirk appeared on his lips.

Wyatt waved his gun towards him to step back. "Go back..." he ordered as he stepped back, pointing at him. When Calloway leaned against the wall, there was no more escape. Wyatt immediately ran outside and closed and locked the door tightly.

Without wasting another second, "Ziri... Call emergency and send the message," he commanded the AI to call the police service.

In no time, the caller replied automatically, an automated voice stating. "Emergency service... We hope you receive this message... Please stay alert and take precautions. We will be two minutes.... Thank you." The message was received with a reply from the police department.

"Shit! Clone technology has gone crazy... I thought it was fake news." A low whisper escaped Wyatt. His voice, slurring in the mix of relief and dawning horror, came to his mind with tones of questions. "How the hell did he get inside the house?" Then he glanced at the locked door and the untouched entrance,  searching for any sign of forced entry.

"But why does everything remain clean and perfect, not a single scratch," he wondered.

"Cling..."

"Cling." An intercom call sound brought him back to reality. "Finally, they arrive...." He snapped towards the huge entrance door.

“This is emergency services,” a voice from the outer intercom said in a flat tone.

After checking the hallway CCTV and confirming that the two policemen standing outside the hallway were facing the door.  Wyatt pressed the open button, and with a sharp beep, the door automatically opened.