The Grey. *-(A SciFi Thriller)-*

Part V: Red

There was a tiny bead of sweat slowly falling down the back of Red's neck as they stood outside the heavily guarded door - and as much as he wanted to wipe it away, his arms seemed to be frozen at his sides. The hallway was dark, but there was just enough light coming from the outdated yellow string of halogen lights for Red to make out the tarnished brass handle of the door. Other than the eclectic buzz of the lights, there was barely any sound in the claustrophobic hall. Even the rat-masks beside the door said nothing as they led him and Cil here, past what felt like endless rows of analog doors and dusty stairwells. This building must have been ancient - definitely off the main city grid.

It was the small tug of his sleeve that snapped him out of it. Cil, standing close beside him, was growing impatient. Her eyes had that same familiar fire - the same manic tension that came whenever they watched those Vermin vids back at his place. This was her chance to finally meet her hero, the mysterious "N".

Lucky her.

Red watched as Cil gestured to the door once again.

"Come on," she mouthed.

Red responded with a tight nod, then closed his eyes. He could do this. He had to do this. But everything in his body screamed for him to turn back, run now - there was still time. It wasn't that he was afraid of his brother - no. But it was more than his brother past the over-painted black wood door. Every painful memory of his past - every thing he wanted to run from brewed behind the turning of that dirty brass handle, and it was the glaring poetic irony that Red hated the most.

With a final quick breath and sharp shake of his head, Red reached for the handle - perhaps too quickly as Cil gave a little jump before he turned the knob. With an exaggerated creaking groan of its hinges, the door was open, and Red locked eyes with his twin brother for what felt like the first time. Not only because of the amount of time it had been since they had last seen each other, but the man sitting at the cluttered desk in front of him was so unlike what he had remembered. Broad, tense shoulders replaced once lanky arms. The brother he once knew always shaved his head, tight to his slender and sharp face, but the man before him had black, slick wavy hair, dramatically falling over one stern brow. Although they were twins, they weren't identical, but most traces of the few things they had in common in appearance vanished since he had last seen him. But the stern, serious glare of the man looking back up at him was unmistakably his brother. The cool, icy stare - haunting at times, with the blue-white eyes of his mother - their mother, pierced him with an aching pain at the pit of his stomach that he had not felt in years.

There was a moment of silence - a tense exchange of stares between the two brothers that felt longer than it probably was, before Red saw the corner of Nero's mouth turn upwards. Then, much to Red's horror, Nero began to laugh. Quiet at first, then it transformed into a loud, cackling groaning laugh that echoed off the small rooms tight walls, booming through the silent corridors behind them. Red watched as Cil turned to him nervously, an awkward smile on her face, looking for any sort of cue on what this meant.

Nero then slowly came to a stop, holding on to the edge of his desk seemingly in an effort to center himself, before slapping it hard with both palms with a BANG! causing a ricochet and a few of the books stacked high on his desk to fall to the floor. Cil gave a little jump before taking a cautious step back, the smile on her face now gone, but Red stood firmly in place.

Nero slowly turned his head upwards, an unnatural wide smile against his still-serious stare looked unnatural, unnerving even, and Red felt his upper lip tighten into a not-so subtle grimace.

"Brother. Red. You're finally here," Nero spoke in his same unmistakable low tenor, before giving a single loud clap of emphasis. "Please, sit," he added, gesturing to the two wooden chairs in front of him.