Codename: DEMON || ONC2022 Longlister

Chapter 10: Bound by the Weaver's Blood

Greyson felt a strange sense of familiarity with the scenario in front of him. He stood at the end of a room, and Deimos blocked his only way out. And just like before, he just stayed in the same place he was standing. The only thing he could do was look at Deimos. Though unlike before, Deimos didn't move either. The two of them just stared at each other.

He looked around as he searched for another way out of the room. Maybe there was a door that he missed, or perhaps a window he could jump out of. If he recalled, he was just on the lab's second floor. Though just as he tried to conjure up a plan, he paused and shook his head. No, he was not going to jump down a window. If anything would go wrong, he might break his bones in ways that not even Anthea could heal.

He heard Deimos take a step forward. When Greyson turned his head back to him, Deimos immediately took a step backward. "I... I can explain."

Greyson's ears flopped down, and he felt his heart stop for a split second when his back hit the wall. "S- Stay back..."

"I want to talk."

"I said stay back!" Greyson reached for the pistol on his waist, then pointed it towards Deimos. The gun visibly shook in his hold, but he still placed his fingers near the trigger. "I'll- I'll shoot you if you won't!"

Deimos's brows furrowed down, and he crossed his arms. "Do you even know how to use that?"

"Yes I do!"

He did not.

Deimos stared at him for a while, and his eyes scanned him from head to toe. "Well then. If you're sure you know how to use that, shoot me. I won't stop you."

Greyson's eyes widened, and he wasn't sure if his heart was stopping or pounding even faster. He didn't want to kill anyone, he didn't want anyone's blood on his hands. His fingers reached for the trigger, and he swallowed the lump forming in his throat. Should he shoot? Maybe he didn't even need to aim at Deimos, he could just show that he knew how to use a gun.

He nodded to himself, then aimed the gun at the floor. Then, Greyson pulled the trigger.

But instead of a loud ear-tearing noise, the only thing he heard was multiple clicks.

His brows furrowed down, and he lifted the gun closer to his face. Was there something wrong? Was it defective? He pressed his fingers on the trigger multiple times again and—

"Don't do that!"

Greyson jumped up, and he almost screamed when Deimos reached for the gun in his hands. Greyson heard a few clicks, and the magazine dropped down from the gun. "It's loaded," he said as he placed the magazine back inside. "Why did your mother think giving you a gun was a good idea?"

"I..." He shook his head and stepped away from Deimos. "That doesn't matter. G- Give me a reason to not call anyone and run off right now."

Deimos handed the gun back to him. Then, he grabbed something from his pocket, which Greyson recognized as the device he showed back in the basement's control room. "Firstly, you won't be able to call for help right now. And secondly, I... I genuinely want to talk to you right now."

Greyson placed the gun back in his belt, and he gripped the end of his jacket. "How can I know that I can trust you? How- how did you even know that I was here?"

Deimos was silent for a short while. Then, he took a step backward. Greyson lifted his head as he met Deimos's eyes. Just like the first time they met, he felt smaller than he already was. A part of him wondered if he would ever be that tall. Internally, he sighed in relief when Deimos lowered down to meet his height, though his relief was cut short when he brought out his device again.