The Necrotic Heir

A vibratory sound pierced Grey's sleep, jolting him awake.

His eyes snapped open, and he sat up, scanning the dimly lit room.

Puzzlement creased his brow as he tried to identify the source of the unsettling noise.

It certainly wasn't the alarm, as he didn't have one.

His body always knew when it was time to wake up.

Grey pushed aside his rumpled bedsheet.

With a sigh, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and made his way to the window.

Beyond the glass, the morning was beginning, casting a faint glow over the streets.

There certainly wasn't anything abnormal going on down there. It was dawn, and there were close to zero activities, except for the cats snarling at each other.

Grey held his temple. It seemed the weird sound also came with a headache. He glanced at the wall clock and saw it was 6:00 am. Not too early to prepare for work.

A few minutes of exercise, a cold shower, dressing in a well-fitted suit, and a modest breakfast.

Grey finished his usual morning routine and set out for work.

As he stepped out of his apartment building, something caught his attention: a man hitting his head on the door of a nearby shop.

Grey knew this man to be one of his noisy neighbors, who had a loud wife who nagged constantly about his lack of care for their children.

Whenever Grey heard their arguments, he ended up with conflicted thoughts.

One part of him was grateful he lived alone as he couldn't handle mundane chaos, and the other, thinking about his non-existent parents.

Grey was an orphan and had grown up in an institution.

It was not exactly a home-friendly place, more like a hell he was grateful to have escaped. Even the thought of it gave him chills.

Shaking off the scary thoughts, he turned away from the man's strange behavior.

He was a notorious drunkard so this fell under the norm, but he couldn't help but notice the man abnormally pale skin.

The man then began to hit his head even more frantically and Grey stepped back startled.

"Yeah, this is not for me,"

Grey said and hurriedly entered his car and drove.

Whatever was going on with him, was none of his business.

He just pitied the man's wife and kids

*

Towering glass skyscrapers dominated the city skyline, a sprawling city teeming with cars on the roads.

Lots of cars, which forced Grey to sigh warily as traffic had brought his car to a standstill.

This was one of the reasons he left home so early, to evade any possible gridlock.

The roads were usually free and less congested, with the only possible cause of traffic being a car accident.

"What bad luck," Grey sighed under his breath.

He was tempted to park his car somewhere and jog to work, as being tardy wasn't in his DNA, as he felt it was better to be too early than too late.

Luckily, he managed to hold himself back, and in a few minutes, the traffic moved.

He arrived at his office at reasonable time, by his own standards, and entered the high-rise building with a backpack slung over his shoulder.

As he walked toward the elevator, he spotted Wendy, the receptionist for the firm, and a frown creased his face.

A voiding Wendy was another reason for arriving to work so early.

Wendy had an unhealthy obsession with him, persistently seeking his attention and constantly inviting him out.

It didn't matter how many times he rejected her, she wouldn't give up.

Wendy then noticed Grey and waved energetically towards him.

Grey responded with a curt nod and hastened his steps toward the elevator, hoping to avoid any conversation she might initiate.

"Grey, wait up," Wendy called after him, but he didn't break his stride.

Reaching the elevator, he pressed the button multiple times, hoping to escape any conversation she would initiate.

"Should I just take the stairs?" Grey thought and was about to move, but Wendy's urgent voice caused him to halt, "Stop, don't!"

Grey halted, puzzled by how she knew he was about to take the stairs.

"Why?" he inquired, turning to face her, but she didn't answer until she caught up to him.

Wendy, wearing a striking blue shirt and fitted black skirt, was the epitome of beauty.

Most men would jump at the chance to be with her, but Grey was different.

He saw her as someone who would turn his quiet life upside down, and he wasn't ready for that.

"Somebody reported a live wire, so the stairs are off-limits until the electrician fixes it," Wendy explained, pointing to a signboard she had propped up to indicate that the stairs were temporarily closed.

"Okay," Grey acknowledged and then turned back to the elevator.

"So, where do you think you were going without greeting me properly?" Wendy asked, her tone dripping with seduction as she moved closer to him.

Grey shifted uncomfortably. "To work, where else?"

Wendy pouted childishly. "How could you go without collecting the meal I made for you?" she said holding up a small bag that held a food flask.

"I specifically told you to stop doing this its making me uncomfortable," Grey sighed.

"How could I resist? I need to make sure you're taken care of," Wendy replied, her gaze fixed on him.

"Why? I can certainly take care of myself," Grey retorted.

He had made it his mission to be self-sufficient since leaving the orphanage, working multiple part-time jobs during his university days to make ends meet.

His hard work eventually paid off, and he now had a good job.

"I can see that," Wendy replied with a smile. "But I still want to take care of you. Even if you've eaten, I want you to have it for my sake," Wendy insisted, handing him the bag.

"I don't want it, I've already had breakfast," Grey responded firmly, he wouldn't budge on this.

"That's fine; you can have it for lunch, then. I wouldn't want the food I made with so much effort to go to waste, would I?"

"I didn't ask you to make it now, did I?" Grey shot back, annoyed.

"Of course, you did," Wendy replied with a blush. "You have a look that makes me want to cook for you."

What the hell does that even mean?

Was she insulting my physique?

Grey body was on the leaner side, and he has frail skin that made him look like he was sick.

So he was quite sensitive to comments about his looks.

Grey eased his furrowed brows.

He considered her inability to take a hint quite annoying but he knew she meant no insult.

"Listen, Wendy, I..."

Grey was about to speak, but he paused noticing a flickering purple blur at the edge of his vision.

His eyes widened in confusion and alarm as he tried to make sense of the shimmering distortion, but when he blinked, the mysterious blur vanished, and everything returned to normal.

"You what?" Wendy asked which snapped Grey out of his daze.

"Oh it's nothing," Grey said and the elevator arrived.

He then moved past her, stepping into the elevator.

He pressed the button for the 6th floor, but before the doors closed, Wendy slipped inside and forced the flask into his arm, "Enjoy."

Before Grey could open his mouth to refuse her, she hopped off and waved as the door closed.

Grey then sighed wearily as the elevator ascended.

He didn't want to resort to being rude, so she'd stop.

He wasn't even going to eat the meal. He couldn't, not when he knew the intention behind it and couldn't reciprocate it.

Grey then sighed again and frowned, wondering what the purple blur he saw was all about.