Project: "Tord"

Ch. 16 - Dark Red

April 2024, Norway

I walked slowly on the road, accompanied by two soldiers wearing the mask.

It was the second version, I recognized the typical features, squarer graphics, mouth closed in a permanent, eerie smile.

It was a strange feeling, being there again.

We were walking along a dirt road, in the middle of nowhere.

The last time I had walked it, it was certainly not in the middle of it in plain sight as it is now, but I was sneaking from tree to tree so as not to be seen.

I remembered a whole forest around the base, tanks parked everywhere and lots of guards running in every direction. Getting in there had been a challenge, the surveillance was high.

But now, it was just us in that desolate heath.

Not a single tree, not a single tank.

Just us and the red dry land.

Actually I had never questioned why the base was right there, but now I was beginning to understand. The soil must have been full of earthy varieties of iron oxides. Last time with the lawn I couldn't see it.

I was beginning to wonder if it was really the place from last time or if they were taking me to the middle of nowhere to eliminate me. It could very well have been a trap.

No... It wasn't.

It couldn't have been. If Tord had wanted to take me out, why make me go all the way? Besides, he would have wanted to watch.

We kept walking, but that walk into the unknown was making me anxious; I could feel my heart beating faster and faster. It was hot, very hot.

That heat was not normal for a country like Norway. It should have been 1 or 2 degrees. But I was almost baking, it felt like a London summer.

Anxiety got the better of me and I tried to talk to the soldiers, to dampen the tension, it couldn't get any worse than that anyway.

''It's... pretty hot here huh? I remembered tha-'

''The current temperature of our position is 23 degrees, sir.'' I was interrupted by one of the two soldiers.

I was stunned for a moment. In addition to the graphics, the voice was also completely different. No more gentle candid hostess voice asking for coffee. The sound that reached my ears was monotonous and dull, terrifying.

''H-heh, if I were you I would ask your Leader to go back to the previous version of your beauty masks, these don't do you much justice.''

I used to do this a lot, when panic would rise, I would try to throw in irony to dampen the tension. Not that it helped much, but it was as if my brain was looking for a comfort zone. Like walking on my toes over a sheet of thin ice, deluding myself that by doing so, I could weigh less and not let the ice break.

''Negative sir, no beauty mask present on the soldier.''

Unexpectedly stupid answer made me nervous.

''Oh really Mask-inator? It's called humor.''

The soldiers were silent for a moment, then one of them recited as if he were reading from a manual.

''Humor and emotional regulation. The subject uses humor as a means of dissociation from the traumatic-anxiety situation since it can release repressed energies in a way that is less destructive to the psyche. Humor is implemented in dangerous situations by releasing beta-endorphins with an analgesic effect and to create complicity with the other subject and/or oneself with the goal of reducing aggression and momentarily dissociating from the problematic situation''

I was stunned again, but at that point I stopped the walk.

''What are you guys, walking wikipedias? If I wanted a psychological analysis I would go to the psychiatrist--ah no wait. There are no psychiatrists anymore! They all have melted brains like yours! You bunch of idiots.''

Being analyzed was getting on my nerves, but then what did it mean? I could tell by myself that the situation was stressful, it's not like I needed the help of Maki-pedia.

''Anyway, could you PLEASE tell me where we're going? Apart from your brain, has the red base melted as well in this heat?''

''The outer structure of the base is composed of...''

''OH PLEASE spare me. Did Tord send you to wear me out? What is this, a new method of pre-execution torture? What will await me inside the base, a circus show?

If you have to kill me please do it now. To be taken to the middle of nowhere with two recoilers like you??? I expected a meeting with an adult person willing to talk about important things, not this little theater to take me down.''

By now anxiety had won out, I was squawking and was convinced it was all a trap set up by that coward Tord to get me out of the way without confronting me. 

Stupid. How stupid I had been to actually believe it. And how stupid he was. It was all so meaningless.

''Killing you sir? The Leader is not going to kill you, sir, you are invited to lunch with the Leader to discuss about the Core.''

I resumed walking but in the opposite direction. I couldn't take it anymore. I was going back to London to Matt and Ringo, we would live forever in that abandoned house and forget about that coward Tord.

''Ah well! I see that at least humor can also be applied in the field. Congratulations. Say hello to the Leader for me and ...''

I did not have time to finish the sentence that I heard the trigger of a gun behind my head.

I stopped paralyzed, my blood cold. My instinct wanted to make another humorous joke but the words stopped in my throat.

The thin ice had broken.

''Threats are dysfunctional and spoil your appetite sir, please follow us without resistance.''

In silence, I turned back and continued walking.

After a half-hour walk, we arrived at the base.

It was different.

Darker.

A strong smell of metal and chemicals clouded my sense of smell and made me cough several times, to the point that one of the soldiers gave me a surgical mask to put on. I checked it several times until I ascertained that it was safe, then put it on.

In the dust rose the base, this complex of dark, imposing edifications.

I felt threatened, a shiver of fear ran down my spine.

The last time I had seen it it was glowing red, manicured, a garden surrounding it.

Now I walked on the dead, dry earth, In front of me, a few hundred meters away, the entrance to the base.

Once of clean, clear glass, now covered in dust.

Instead of the countless guards who guarded the entrance last time, now there was dust and silence. The whistling of the wind tortured my ears.

I looked up and noticed that the front wall was full of cameras watching me. I thought of Tom, and prayed that Matt was right.

I coughed again because of the smoke, my eyes were watering, I looked up and realized why.

Last time the smokestacks were not in operation. Now they rose ominously, and they were more than last time.

They made the sky a fearful dark red.

And after a long time, I felt a visceral sense of pure fear.

Dark Red Fear.