He heard the voice first. "The blood would make a horrible mess in the carpet, Peter." He couldn't quite place why, but it sent a chill up his spine. Then he looked up to see the man who had spoke, and the world dropped out from under him.
This couldn't be. He had experienced more than any man should have to on this day, but this - it was too much. He was staring at..himself. And yet, not quite. He could only stare in astonishment as this strange living reflection exchanged words with Peter and Claire, before offering his hand in his direction.
He ignored the hand, unable to look away from the man's face...his own face. He pushed himself up onto his feet, unwilling to accept this help from...himself? For a brief moment, he realized he would rather be enduring Peter's attack again than dealing with...whatever this was.
It was a trick. It had to be. These people - whoever they were - were playing a trick on him. Or worse. He had trusted this girl, and she walked him into a trap. From her response to the whole situation, he wanted to believe that she hadn't known about any of this. But then, she clearly knew this other him, and therefore must have been in on it.
But why? because of what he had done to them in the past? Why couldn't they just believe him, believe that that wasn't him? He finally tore his eyes away from his mirror image, and looked over to Claire. His face wore an expression of complete hurt and betrayal.
"You lied to me. You told me you would try to help. You told me this was the best place to come! Was it fun? Did you enjoy it?"
He couldn't help but raise his voice as he spoke, but he cut himself off before going any further, not wanting to agitate Peter and set off another attack (even if, at the moment, he did feel like taking them on). He started backing towards the door, more than happy to take Peter's advice and leave this place. But when he cast one final glance in Peter's direction, and saw the angry look on the man's face, he couldn't help but speak his mind one last time.
"I was just looking for help, and you all did this to me? I don't know what kind of game you're playing..." - and with that he looked over at the one who looked like him - "but you might want to take a look at yourselves before calling me a monster."
He gave Claire one last, bitter glance, before turning on his heels and flinging himself out through the front door, into the waiting afternoon sun.