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Most Artemis-obsessed, psychopathic lover girls give up after Chloe thoroughly trounces them in one manner or another.
But not Evie. Evie transcends even the craziest of obsessive stalkers, and learned after the umpteenth time of trying to dispatch Chloe that there was only one, true way to get to Artemis. Artemis loves Chloe, and no one else.
That didn't leave her much choice. She would have to be Chloe. But that was impossible.
...or was it?
Chloe went out jogging on a Saturday morning in her new, black hoody feeling pretty good. Nothing was particularly wrong that day, nor did she expect that anything would go wrong.
Until, on a rather lonely street, she was suddenly grabbed from behind, and a syringe was jabbed into her neck. It was a sedative--she knew this not because she even knew what was going on, but because the next second she was out like a light.
She woke up with her hands bound to a rusty pole in a back alley with plastic ties and a knotted bandanna in her mouth tied tightly around the back of her head. She looked around until her eyes fell on--
--her? Yes her, just standing there, gloating. Wait, no. That couldn't be right. She was here, not there. Or was she? It was all so terribly confusing. Whatever it was, it was wearing her new hoody (and, apparently, her shirt too because all she had on was her sports bra).
"What the--?!" she exclaimed. All that was intelligible, however, was, "Wmmmph?!"
"Recognize me?" Chloe 2 giggled. "Well, you should! I'm you! Every time you wake up in the morning this face greets you, and what a darling face it is. I like it almost as much as my old one.
"Old one?" Chloe tried again. "Olmmph?" was the result.
"I don't mind telling you now how I am. I'm you, obviously, but you might remember me better as 'Evie.' But I'm not Evie anymore, and I never will be. Small price to pay to be able to take your place with the most wonderful being in the universe--your husband. Now, I'm not going to stand here and entertain your silly, gagged questions all day. I'll just let the shock of it sink in as you wriggle free. By the time you do, I'll be in your husband's arms, and if you ever come back, I'll have you arrested for identity theft. After all, who will believe you? I know everything about you--there's nothing that would give me away. Nothing. Not even the freckle on your left lip--you know which lip I'm talking about...so--ta ta. Have fun." She turned to leave.
All of that horrible talk was not what worried Chloe. Right now, Chloe found she was more worried with how that bitch was walking off with her hoody. Forty dollars, it had cost her. She watched as her clone slipped out of sight.
Oh yeah, and she would have to kill that girl now. Really kill her this time. Chloe knew two of her walking around wouldn't be good. Good thing was...she could make it look like a suicide. That thought made her smile (well, as much as she could, anyway, with the gag in her mouth). She immediately went to work wringing her hands free. There was a trick to these little plastic ties, and it would only be a matter of minutes...
