CHAPTER 232: Old Faces

CHAPTER 232: Old Faces

It was mid-afternoon in the Munich apartment. Light entered through the living room window while Fenix ran the cloth over the floor. The house was tidy, the clothes folded on the armchair, and dinner already thawing for later.

His phone vibrated on the table.

He looked at the screen.

Agnes.

Like almost every afternoon.

He wiped his hands on his pants and answered.

—Hi, Agnes.

—Hi, am I catching you busy? —she asked from Washington D.C., with that direct tone of hers as always.

—Cleaning. Nothing new.

—Of course, the official man of the house —she joked—. How are you all?

—Good. Selene is working. Lucian… being Lucian.

—I can imagine —Agnes replied—. Everything's calm here. Lots of work. The lab is killing me.

—Double shifts again?

—Yes. And on top of that they changed the supervisor. A disaster.

Fenix rested the phone between his shoulder and ear while he arranged some things on the table.

—You should rest more.

—I could say the same about you —Agnes replied without giving it importance—. Are you sleeping better?

Fenix made a brief pause.

—More or less.

—Uh-huh… well. If you need anything, you know.

—I know.

There was a small comfortable silence.

—I was just calling to make sure you're still alive and haven't set the apartment on fire —she said lightly.

—Everything under control.

—Good. I'll call you tomorrow.

—As always.

—Take care, Fenix.

—You too, Agnes.

The call ended. Fenix left the phone on the table and went back to what he was doing. Outside, the afternoon continued calm, like any other.

Fenix left the phone on the table and went back to running the cloth over the floor.

—She always calls at the same time… —a voice was heard from the top of the living room cabinet.

Fenix looked up.

Lucian was settled on the edge, watching him with that calm expression that never changed.

—Did you hear everything? —Fenix asked without surprise.

—It wasn't necessary to hear much —Lucian replied—. It seems you have a fairly close relationship with Agnes.

Fenix shrugged slightly and rested the cloth on the bucket.

—Since we met in 2000 we've had a fairly close relationship.

Lucian tilted his head.

—Thirteen years is not a short time.

—No —Fenix admitted—. Many things happened in that time.

—And even so she keeps calling every day.

Fenix took the bucket and carried it toward the kitchen.

—It's her way of making sure we're okay. She was always like that.

Lucian watched him in silence for a few seconds.

—Not everyone maintains that kind of constancy.

Fenix left the bucket in the sink and opened the tap.

—Agnes is insistent. And organized. If something doesn't change, she turns it into routine.

—And that bothers you?

—No.

Fenix closed the tap and dried his hands.

—Sometimes it's good for something to be stable.

Lucian did not respond. He only kept watching him from the top of the cabinet while the apartment returned to calm.

Night had fallen over Munich and, as every day, the apartment was calm. Fenix and Selene ate dinner in silence, the sound of cutlery and the television in the background filling the space.

Selene left her fork aside.

—Do you feel it? —she asked, looking toward the door.

Fenix raised his gaze.

—Feel what?

—As if… we were being watched.

Fenix stayed still for a few seconds. His expression changed barely.

—Yes… —he admitted—. I feel it too.

The atmosphere tensed.

Then, the doorbell rang.

Ding-dong.

Both looked at each other.

Fenix stood up.

—I'll check.

He walked to the door and opened it.

Nothing.

The hallway was empty. Silent.

He frowned and closed it.

He had barely taken a step back—

Ding-dong.

He opened again.

Again, no one.

Selene was already on her feet, alert.

—Do you see anything?

—No… —Fenix replied, increasingly annoyed.

He closed again.

A second of silence.

Ding-dong.

Fenix exhaled with annoyance.

—Okay, that's enough.

He turned with the intention of opening abruptly, clearly irritated. He walked decisively toward the door, grabbed the handle, and opened it brusquely.

—Can you please—?!

From the floor, right on the threshold, a deformed hand emerged.

Long, sharp nails, irregular skin.

It closed violently around Fenix's right arm.

—!

The creature pulled downward with brutal force, trying to drag him. Fenix reacted instantly, bracing his other arm against the doorframe, resisting with his entire body.

—Selene!

The floor seemed to give way, as if something from below were claiming him.

The hand tensed even more.

And then, from the darkness, a raspy, inhuman voice said a single word:

—Fenix.

Fenix's eyes snapped open.

—…Marcus.

The pull was stronger.

A second.

A dry crack.

And then—

A cut.

It was not clean, but it was definitive.

Blood splattered the threshold while Fenix's arm was torn off at the bicep and disappeared beneath the floor along with the creature.

Fenix fell backward with a choked scream, hitting the apartment floor.

The hallway was left empty.

The door open.

And the echo of that name… still floating in the air.

Selene ran toward him and knelt beside him.

—Fenix!

Blood stained the floor, but he, clenching his teeth, raised his head.

—I'm… fine… —he forced out, breathing with difficulty.

Selene looked at the stump of his arm, expecting the worst… but then she saw it.

The wound began to close.

First the bleeding decreased, then the flesh began to regenerate slowly, as if something invisible were reconstructing what was missing. It was not fast, it was not perfect, but it was happening.