The Evil That Came

Part 9: Departure

Greg, late and disheveled, stumbled into the examining room. Matilda's presence now encapsulated his eyes, usually focused on charts and diagnoses. She stood there, curls framing her face, a glow that transcended mere beauty. Greg's smile was a fragile bridge between professionalism and desire.

"Hey beautiful," he stammered, "I got lost in my charts.

Matilda's silence spoke volumes. She stepped into the room and smiled, and Greg followed.

Victoria sat up as the glass door slid open. A stranger stood before her—brown hair, bright hazel eyes. Strange, yet oddly captivating. Victoria wondered about Matilda's origins, her accent a subtle mystery.

Matilda introduced herself cheerily, the accent confirming her foreign roots. "I'm Matilda Bari," she said, "here to discharge and send you home."

Victoria nodded, curiosity piqued. But her attention shifted when Greg entered, his sadness visible. His unprofessional demeanor surprised Matilda; Greg was usually professional. Victoria's father, Zoran, noticed, too, pinching his face, his suspicion brewing. 

Love, unspoken and tangled, wove its threads. Greg's heartache was raw, laid bare by Victoria's imminent departure. Matilda observed her professional facade cracking. And Victoria's mother embraced her daughter, oblivious to the silent drama unfolding.

Matilda wondered: Was it love? Jealousy? Greg's emotions defied logic. Trust wavered. In this quiet room, secrets simmered; the unspoken lingered, a fragile balance of hidden truths.

When Victoria came home, she walked inside to find her older brother Viktor standing in front of the door, smiling his mischievous little smile with those beady eyes that scarred into your soul, reminding you of all the hate in the world.

"Ah, so you're the talk of the town now," Viktor taunted.

"Viktor, don't start," she warned.

Unfazed, Viktor continued, "So, the star treatment has made you feel superior to us R.O.B.O.S. You think you're one of them now?"

"I'm tired, Viktor. I just got back from the doctor's."

But Viktor was relentless. "You're not going to get any rest here. You know how I feel about humans. And you, you're their little pet project. Do you think they've suddenly stopped fearing us? They've just hidden us away in this so-called 'community center.' They're afraid, and they don't want us around. And in this house, we don't entertain humans. You'll pay for this, you little human wannabe."

Victoria's heart pounded at Viktor's threats.

Seeing the fear in her eyes, Viktor let out a great laugh. "You'd better pray you survive the week," he taunted.

Victoria despised Viktor; her loathing for him was so intense that she fantasized about strangling him while he slept. But she knew she couldn't do it—something deep within her harbored affection for him, an affection that surpassed even his self-love.

She attempted to retreat to her room, but Viktor grabbed her by the hair and yanked her into his room. She held back her screams, remembering the consequences of the last time she had cried out. Viktor had struck her so hard that her jaw had slightly fractured from the impact. He roughly tossed Victoria into the room, his fist poised to strike. But then, the doorbell rang. Viktor shot Victoria a menacing glare and ordered her to stay put.

Greg was at the entrance, and a cold gust of wind whipped around Greg as he approached the imposing steel door. He pressed the intercom, his voice tense. "Hello, it's Greg O'Dunn. Is Victoria there?"

Peering through the security screen, Viktor recognized the visitor in a flash. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly masked by a frown.

"My mother advised against opening doors for strangers," Viktor said, his voice flat.