Doppelganger Novels & Stories

"Oh okay. It's the one I heard his wife is looking for a surrogate mother" "Oh you mean Mrs Vivian, Mr Charlie Ampofo's wife. I know them but why did you ask?" Dora said looking at me confused "Well am just looking for extra job which I heard she's looking for new house maids" I lied to her not wanting her to find out about what am about to do "But have not heard of that, all I know is that she's looking for a surrogate mother" Dora said trying to recall if she had heard anything of such which I quickly speaks up

Chioma inquired, she could no longer contain her eagerness to know why. The two boys stared at her, "Even you too!" They responded in unison. There was a moment of silence until John interrupted, "How else if not a coincidence? .." "Probably. However, it’s still possible to stumble across somebody whose face resembles ours – a doppelgänger. Cases of biologically unrelated lookalikes are quite common, it's definitely a coincidence..." Jame's answered his brother thoughtfully.

Luke corrected. Elaine's face scrunched up in confusion, she smiled, thinking Luke probably said that because he felt she pronounced her name wrong but her theory was soon proven wrong when she saw the cold doppelganger of the brown haired boy staring intensely at her. "..." Elaine was visibly shocked. Tess laughed at Elaine's reaction. " There is a lot going on, I can only tell you one after the other." "You had twins?" Elaine had a rough idea of what was going on.

It was as if the old Lyra had died the moment I faked my death and left. At that thought, I turned off my phone to begin studying for tomorrow’s lesson. I only turned off the lights and went to sleep when midnight rolled around. … One year later, I opened my own cafe in Iceland. Sometimes, I would even invite my friends living nearby to taste my home country’s cuisine. I also adopted a goofy and cheeky husky. My life was incredibly fulfilling. One afternoon, I suddenly received a call from the fake death company. “My apologies, Miss Stane. Mr. Quinn has been looking for you all this time.

"Shawn, I know you don't like this, but you can't just give up. Your parents…" She wouldn't stop talking about how she was worried about me. I'd have believed her, but my previous life told me she was a snake. When I refused to sign the papers in my previous life, she turned on me. She forged evidence that would slam me in prison. She bought out some inmates, and they took away my right to be a father. I had nothing but hatred for her. She told Christopher Welson to steal Leidermann Group's secrets, but I had to take the fall. Me, an innocent person.

The High King's right-hand man, his second-in-command, stepped out—with Damon, the werewolf, in tow. He was not the sickly figure I remembered but was decked out in a deep purple suit with delicate gold embroidery that showed off his strong build. He noticed the dried blood on my face, made his way through the crowd, and stopped in front of me. "You okay?" My heart skipped a beat. It took me back to my previous life when I was helpless, and he was there. "Sophie, what are you doing here?" He never used to call me Luna. I thought he had something against me, only to find out when it was too late that was not true at all.

Emmaline shakes her head, “A doppelganger, and my best work to date. Much harder to tell apart from the real thing. The finishing touch will be your memories.” The doppelgänger looks afraid, and stares at Emmaline, “They won’t be able to tell you apart if she knows all your secrets. It’s perfect.” She moves to grab her arm and begs, “Please, you can’t. It’s beyond wrong! Please, don’t do this.” Emmaline pushes her off her and slaps her hard, knocking her to the ground. Emmaline hisses, moving to loom over the woman,

I gasped as I identified the face. It was I. Or at the very least, it appeared to resemble me. The doppelgänger’s gaze shone with the same eerie brightness as Rowan’s, and its demeanor was emotionless and frigid. “What… what is happening here?” I stumbled over my words, my heart pounding. Rowan’s voice was gentle yet brimming with strength. "The prophecy doesn't concern who you will turn into, Daisy." “It’s about who you already are.” The doppelgänger moved nearer, its stare sharp and unwavering. “I am you,” it declared, its voice resonating within the cavern. "And you are I."

She giggled in her sleep, swatting at the air like she was fighting invisible flies. When the feather danced across her nose for the third time, her hand came up in a perfect arc and—SMACK!—landed squarely on her own face. She bolted upright instantly, blinking in confusion while Damien collapsed in hysterical laughter. "I thought there was a bug on me..." "Nope, just a feather!" He tossed it dramatically to the floor. "Orange really is your color. We're twins now!" "What are you talking about?" Confusion painted her features. "Check the mirror."

"Then why do you look exactly like the man in this picture?" Silas turned away, moving toward his bed with that same unsettling grace. He sat down, legs crossed at the ankle, hands folded in his lap. Everything about his posture screamed control, but his knuckles were white where they pressed together. "People have doppelgängers," Silas said quietly. "Faces repeat across time. Maybe you found a photograph of mine." "A photograph of *ours*," Marcus corrected. "That's me standing next to you." Silas's gaze flicked up, sharp and assessing. "Is it?"