Haha that's dope. Thanks for reading, the next part will be out soon. :)

Everyone is telling me that twins have the same DNA and that's news to me! These writers usually have extensive knowledge on the topics they write on so thanks for letting me know! :)

Hey thanks so much! I will post the next part soon! :)

You'll have to continue reading to find out :) I'll post the next part soon

I will most certainly continue and I couldn't help but put the references in there lol, it seemed better than just making up random names/addresses.

Oh man! I hope you're safe! :0 :)

On the fingerprint note I can do that for sure! I do have a good twist planned for this story I think you'll like :)

I did not know that! A lot of these true crime writers probably have extensive knowledge on the process police take to identify victims. Thanks for letting me know :)

I thought this was great, that last line gave me the chills even! It's really fitting when thinking about what's going through a complete psychopath's mind.

"I know this is going to sound crazy detective but that woman at my house is not my wife! Her name is Hannah Pinkman and she killed her sister, my wife, Lauren White two weeks ago. Since then she's been posing as my wife. You see, I couldn't tell the difference because they're identical twins and I had never met her before. I didn't even know she existed before the murder occurred. The only reason I found out tonight was because I was going through old photos in the basement and saw a picture of them together. You can't tell them apart." It felt good to finally tell somebody even if I had only known for a short time.

"Even if they do look alike why do you think that isn't your wife?" Detective Fring asked.

"She hasn't been the same person ever since the murder. I thought she was going through the grieving process, but when I saw the photo it just clicked. That's not the same woman I married, trust me, I would know. Don't you guys have DNA testing? It's the twenty first century for Christ sake we can figure this out in a heartbeat!" I said.

"Well Mark, it just so happens that we do have DNA testing." Detective Fring then proceeded to open the massive binder he brought in. "I was the lead detective on the murder case you're talking about and, well, it just so happens that the woman that was murdered is indeed Hannah Pinkman. We did the analysis weeks ago." Detective Fring said as he started to point out a series of lab results from his binder.

"The woman killed by an unknown assailant by way of gunshot wound on the sixth of September was Hannah Pinkman, sister of Lauren White. Your wife told us back at the house that you've been acting strangely, telling her since the murder that you didn't believe it was really her. You've developed into an alcoholic and an abusive one at that. You've been cheating on your wife and beating her senselessly since the murder. That's why she called the police tonight, not you. Mark, you've gone off the deep end and frankly, I don't believe a damn word you're saying. But here's the cherry on top to put your accusations at rest. Lauren was willing to give a DNA sample back at the house. The officers swabbed her cheeks and we got them to the lab right away. The woman you've been beating on is your wife, Lauren White."

Edit: I will continue writing this if it gets 10 upvotes or 1 comment saying you want the story to continue. Thanks for reading :) Also any criticism or feedback is more than welcome :)

After dropping the photo on the ground in complete and utter disbelief, I couldn't help but collapse onto the ground.

"What the actual fuck is going on here?" I whispered to myself. I had no time to keep processing the shocking discovery I had just come across as I could hear "Lauren" coming down the basement stairs. Standing up as quick as I could I immediately headed towards her. This devil took MY wife away from me and was trying to steal MY wife's life? Oh hell no!

I got to the bottom of the stairs just before Hannah the succubus did and I couldn't contain the rage pumping through every copper wire in my being.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" I wailed at the absolute top of my lungs, shaking my vocal cords. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO WITH LAUREN?" This put a look of complete disbelief on her face. It actually seemed pretty genuine but I knew what type of game she was playing. There was no chance I was going to fall for it, there needed to be justice and revenge for Lauren.

"I know who you are you psychopath! You think you can get away with this shit?" Before I knew it I was grabbing her by the shoulders, shaking her violently.

"Mark what the hell are you doing? What are you talking about?" Hannah was fighting back, yet still trying to maintain her innocence. "Babe get off me why are y-." Her plea was cut short due to the state of both my hands clasping as tight as I could around her throat.

"You stupid bitch, coming into my life and fucking it up. Huh? Nothing to say now huh?" I continued to squeeze for the next 10 to 15 seconds at the same intensity, staring as deep as I could into the eyes of the woman who had murdered my wife. As her eyes started to close I released her. She went into a horrible coughing fit, covering the wall in her filth.

"You won't feel the sweet release of death tonight Hannah, I'm going to make sure you rot in jail for the rest of your miserable life." I said adamantly. I quickly headed up the stairs and grabbed the house phone to call the police. While dialing 911 I walked back to the top of the basement stairs to check on Hannah. I had revealed I knew her true identity and didn't want to take the chance of her escaping. As I saw she was still laying there, coughing more softly now, the 911 operator picked up.

"911 what is your emergency?"

"Hi, yes, I believe I have information on a murder case. I have the killer in my house right now and I need a unit here immediately!"

"Ok sir tell me your address and we'll have some officers down there right away." The operator said in a very composed manner. After relaying that I lived at 308 Negra Arroyo Lane Hannah decided to speak up again.

"Mark, honey, why are you doing this?" She was struggling to get the words out of her crushed trachea.

"Shut your mouth and stay right there, the police will be here any moment." I quickly answered. I wasn't going to stand for her deceptive ways. The woman laying on the stairs was being of pure evil, one that needed to be treated as such.

After a few more moments of Hannah's desperate pleading I heard a knock on the front door.

"Get ready for your twisted little sick life to get a lot worse demon." I said to Hannah before heading to answer the door.

Outside were three cop cars, an ambulance, and four officers crowded onto my porch.

"Hello sir we got a call about a possible domestic dispute. Can you tell me what's been going on tonight?" The officer closest to the door asked. He seemed to be the Lieutenant or Sergeant as he wore a different badge than the other officers. This was the man I needed to be talking to. Before I could even get a word out, something happened I never could have expected.

Hannah came walking down the stairs from the second floor. She was in much worse shape than I had left her in on the stairs. There were multiple cuts on her face, her nose seemed to be broken, and there was a massive purple bruise on her left cheekbone. While keeping her distance from me and after giving me a frightened look the officers could surely see, she began to speak.

"Oh thank God you're here officers! He's been beating on me and I couldn't take it anymore!" I almost believed her for a split second too. She sounded so innocent and heartbroken, like she's been battling with inner turmoil for a lifetime and finally decided to take action. She even had tears streaming down her face for dramatic effect.

"Is this true sir?" The officer in charge asked. I couldn't believe what the hell was happening. First she appeared upstairs, then the bruises and cuts appeared, and now she was feeding a bullshit story to the officers with the delivery of a seasoned Broadway actress.

"Hell no this isn't true!" I said with confidence, finally managing to get a word out. "This woman here is a killer! She murdered my wife Lauren and is trying to steal her life! You have to believe me!" My words seemed to have little to no effect on the officers.

"Ma'am?" The officer said inquisitively to Hannah.

"I don't know what he's talking about officer, he's gone crazy or something!" Hannah said innocently.

Looking back at me the officer sighed and pulled his handcuffs out. "Please turn around and put your hands behind your back sir."

"What? No way I didn't do anything!" I said defiantly.

"Sir, turn around and put your hands behind your back NOW!" The officer wasn't playing around now. I tried to think of what to do next and the officers took that as a sign of resistance. Within only a moment I had two sets of hands, one on each arm, turning me around and hand cuffing me.

"You can't do this to me! She's a killer! A KILLER!" I screamed as the officers dragged me away from my house. How did she do it? How did she get upstairs? How did she get those marks on her face? What the hell was happening right now? So much had happened in the last 10 minutes my head was spinning and I was beginning to feel sick. The officers read me my Miranda rights and threw me in the back of one of the squad cars. I could see Hannah spreading her lies to one of the officers who stayed to talk with her. He was writing down notes and probably believing every word she was saying.

The officers who had detained me started to leave in their cars so I was forced to sit and watch Hannah give the rest of her statement. Once they finished talking and the officers started walking back towards their cars, Hannah stayed in the doorway to watch. She locked eyes with me and I could swear, was even smiling a little. Whoever that was, it wasn't Lauren.

The officers drove me to the police station without saying a word. Once at the station I was processed and booked. My mug shot was taken, my fingerprint was filed, I was charged with first degree assault, and I was also charged with first degree battery. I thought, this can't be real. I had definitely choked her, but that was besides the point. The woman living in my home wasn't the woman I married. She had murdered my wife and was now trying to steal her life.

Once processed I was given an orange Albuquerque prisoner jump suit and thrown into a tiny cell. The five foot by five foot "room" consisted of a piss stained cot and shit stained toilet.

"Fuck." I said quietly to myself. "How did I end up here?" I spent the next hour or so trying to process what my next steps would be. The charges against me weren't going to be dropped and there was no way that I could fight them after what happened at the house. All of the officers had seen a beat up, cut, and bruised woman cry before them about how she couldn't be abused anymore. Still though, I would eventually have a chance to seek out justice for Lauren. They couldn't lock me up forever because of this.

After sitting in my cell for another hour or so my chance came sooner than I thought. An officer opened my cell door and told me a detective wanted to speak with me. I was escorted out of the cell block and taken to a private interrogation room. I waited for only a short time before a man walked in carrying a huge binder. He didn't wear a blue uniform like the rest of the cops, but instead khakis with a button shirt and a tie. His badge hung down from a lanyard covering part of his tie. He seemed to be about forty five to fifty years old, probably an experienced, grizzled cop who had seen a lot of shit in his day. He pulled his chair real close to mine, pinning me in the corner.

"Hi Mark I'm detective Gary Fring, I've heard a lot about what's happened tonight so I just need to understand what happened from your side. Tell me your version of events from tonight at the house." Detective Fring seemed to be reasonable and willing to listen.

Hey thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it :)

Waking up the next morning after a near restless night I had only one thing on my mind and that was to bring down the monster I had encountered yesterday. All night long I was tossing and turning. I couldn't get the image of the mother slipping that little white pill into her child's mouth. Her daughter couldn't have been more than 7 years old and she was being forced to take high dosage pain relivers. You see, as a pharmacist every week we get a shipment of a drug known as Tramadol. They come in a particularly oval like shape with ridges. It's a narcotic that's usually given to people who have just recently had back or neck surgery and are in EXTREME pain. The side effects it has on adults who use it for more than a couple weeks can be quite considerable. The side effects it could have on a child could be life altering.

Before continuing my search my mind auto piloted me to my email as that's usually the first thing I do when I hop on my computer and I was astounded by the number of new emails I had. I clicked on the first one from somebody I didn't recognize and to say I was shocked by what I read wouldn't begin to match what I felt.

The email read, "I swear to God if I ever see your face again I'm gonna make sure you're six feet deep boy."

"What the hell?" I was so confused as to who this person was and why they wanted me dead.

The next one read, "Only a life long loser such as yourself would lay hands on a woman and run like a coward. You're lucky you're still alive." Now I got it. The bystanders at the mall yesterday had figured out who I was and were now sending me death threats because the woman had let me go. There were nearly a hundred new emails, clearly people were spreading my information. No matter what, I was never going to stop my quest for justice.

I decided to close out of my email and get down to work. If she was on this list I was going to find her. Only four short hours later I had taken a name off the list, typed it into Instagram, and matched the name to the face. Her name was Amber Heard. She's a thirty six year old Hollywood Actress who just recently was sued for fifteen million dollars by her ex husband, Johnny Depp. For years she abused that man, then came out with accusations of how he was abusing her. Luckily, Depp had the guts to take this monster to court and he won! It was a landslide moment for men who had been in scenarios like Johnny's.

The next step was to send in an anonymous tip to the local authorities. If the police caught wind of a child being force fed narcotics by their mother who has a history of abuse, she'd be caught by dusk. I sat back in my chair satisfied with my work. Not only was I going to pin this woman for the crimes against humanity she was committing, but I got the satisfaction of slapping her across her stupid little face too. It was a nice slap as well, I made full contact with the palm of my hand against her frail jaw. The sound of my skin slapping hers was comparable of that to Hiroshima. Now all I had to do was wait.

In less than four hours time(sooner than I had expected) the authorities had apprehended Amber and taken her child to stay with the father, Johnny Depp. Every news station on TV had the headline, "Amber Heard Caught Lacking Again", and it was beautiful! I still felt sorry for that child though, I hope her father can give her the love and support she needs to overcome the trauma Amber Heard caused her. There's no chance Amber will EVER be able to see her kid again and rightfully so.

After a few days the death threats stopped coming. It was probably because they recognized the woman on the news and started to appreciate what I had done. Had I chosen the path of resignation and not the path of bravery, there would be a child out there falling victim to the abuse of the wretched Amber Heard. Sometimes, cowardice just isn't an option.

Edit: I'm looking back at the prompt realizing I completely forgot to add the duel part. I'm sorry OP I got wrapped up in it all.

There was no choice to make at all, it was clear that action needed to be taken and it needed to be done so swiftly. Without even thinking I slapped that woman so hard across her face I could hear her jaw pop. The sound and sight of the slap stopped everybody dead in their tracks within a 50 foot radius.

"Get him!" One male bystander screamed. I was instantly rushed by four guys thinking they were doing the right thing. Not wanting to be a victim of my own heroics I decided to make a run for it. Hugging the wall I managed to sprint past a hefty, sweaty man who already seemed to be tired from just walking around the mall. He managed to get a hand on my coat but my speed was too great and I broke free. Luckily no one else tried to stop me on my way out and I was able to get to my car. While trying to open my car door I could see and hear police wailing their sirens, coming up the street

"Shit!" I yelled. I decided to get in my car anyways, but not leave so they might just pass me without even glancing an eye in my direction. I knew if I got caught with this it wouldn't go over well with my record. Having a history of crime in your life really makes the future punishments that much worse. Ducking down in my seat I saw one cop car drive by. Then another. It seemed to be going to plan so far. Lifting my head up just enough to check the surrounding area I could see the path to the exit was clear so I decided to make a run for it. I smashed the car into reverse and swung my car backwards without looking, then I put the car at a cool 15 hoping not to draw attention to myself. I thought I was home free until the last thing I expected happened.

They were blocking off the exits.

Before I knew it I was being stopped and an officer in blue was walking up to my window. I was doomed.

"Hello sir can I ask your business here today?" The officer said to my half open window.

"Just doing some early Christmas shopping sir. What's the hold up?" I said in my best "I don't know shit" tone.

"Listen son I'm gonna level with you, we got a call from a person in the mall saying a lady had just been assaulted and frankly you fit the description we got. You're a black male, about 25 to 30 years old with a white hoodie on. Would you know anything about this?" The cop asked with a reasonable tone, not prosecuting at all.

"No sir I would not." I responded.

"Ok well I'm gonna at least need the alleged victim to identify you, then we can figure out what really happened. Can you do that for us?" The cop was being fair and I knew that nobody knows what truly happened expect for me and that woman. She was a sick person and I wasn't going to stand for her disgusting actions.

"Yeah I can do that." I knew it was pointless to say no. I was going to expose this woman for who she truly was. No way was I going down for this without a fight.

"Alright thank you." The cop said. He called in on his radio to another unit and within less than five minutes the lady with her child, the same lady who I had slapped only ten minutes ago, walked out of the mall surrounded by other mall goers who were comforting her.

"That's him officer! That's the scumbag right there!" The sweaty hefty man who failed to stop me earlier yelled out. He was breathing so hard now he basically gasped it out, then proceeded to cough into his sweaty shirt.

I was getting hot looks from the cops and I could swear they were reaching for their handcuffs already. The woman hadn't said a word nor looked at me yet. Then she mumbled something under her breath so quiet nobody could hear.

"What was that ma'am?" The cop who had been talking to me asked. She mumbled the same thing again and when nobody responded she finally made sure all of us could hear.

"It wasn't him!" She almost shouted out. Her eyes went back down and her eerie quietness resumed. I absolutely could not believe it, I know she had seen me coming. She looked right at me before I caressed her face with the force of God.

"What do you mean it wasn't him?! We all saw it darling, you don't have to hide. We got your back!" Sweaty fat man said.

"No, it wasn't him. Sorry officers." The slapped lady said. Turning around and starting to leave, she looked back at me and her eyes met mine for just a moment. In that moment I could see in her eyes that she knew. She knew I had seen what nobody else had. She had just doomed herself without even knowing it. Without the constriction of these charges being pressed on me, I now had the freedom to try and exact even more justice on her by exposing her true wretched self.

"Looks like you're free to go sir, thanks for being patient." The fair cop said before running after the lady. I don't know how she was going to convince them that she didn't want to pursue the attacker. It was all really unnatural.

"Looks like you got away scot-free scumbag. Must be nice knowing you can get away with being an absolute piece of human garbage huh?" Fat, hefty, sweaty, fat man said. Now on the verge of needing a ventilator and life support.

"You should turn yourself in if you have any balls at all!" Sweaty man's wife said. There was a crowd of about 10 people now yelling insults and spitting at me. It was time to go, I didn't need anymore trouble at the moment. These people had no idea that shit was about to hit the fan and I was going to get every one of them to kiss my ass for forgiveness once this was all over. I got in my car and drove on the shoulder past the cop cars in a hurry.

Once I got home I ran straight to my computer. What the woman didn't know was something else I had noticed about her. On her right wrist was a tattoo of a triangle within a circle. Along the 3 sides of the triangle read three words - Unity, Service, and Recovery. Except, I didn't even need to read the words, I had just recognized the symbol having seen it a thousand times before and getting it printed on my own body as well. The symbol stood for recovering from addiction to narcotics.

Once a young man growing up in the slums of Detroit I had fallen victim to the use of opioids. At the age of 15 I had taken my first pill and was hooked instantly. I dropped out of high school, joined the neighborhood gangbangers in their daily rituals, and lost the respect of all my friends and family. I continued to do opioids for the next 3 years until my closest friend at the time, LT, was shot and killed over opioids. You see, he was selling this stuff to anybody he could. In fact, all of us in the gang were. It was the only thing we knew how to do. After hearing the news a crushing blow hit me harder than the drugs had in a while. In a fleeting moment of sobriety I was smart enough to go back home to my parents and beg them for forgiveness. They quickly took me back in and sent me to a local rehabilitation center with money they didn't have. If it wasn't for them I'd be back on the streets of Detroit throwing my life away.

Instead, I spent 136 days in rehabilitation, got my GED, and went to college in California to become a pharmacist. Now that's where I live and I wouldn't change a damn thing about it. I still help my parents out financially and go home to see them as often as I can but it's hard being back in the place where I had my darkest times. I prefer the sunny atmosphere in California, it helps keep my days bright rather than dark like before.

Once at the computer I searched through the local medical files I was able to access for people on the restricted access list. Certain people who had committed crimes relating to narcotic distribution were off limits to receiving certain prescription drugs from pharmacies. With any luck I would find this woman in this data base and could figure out who she was. I cross referenced the names on the list with any social media account I could find of them. For the next six hours I didn't stop even to eat, drink, or go to the bathroom. I only awoke from my trance due to realizing how bright the screen had got because the sun had gone down and I hadn't bothered to turn the lights on when I came in. Standing up to go to bed, I promised to continue my search in the morning.

[Continues]