One In A Billion | Transformers Prime [1]

𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟕

I woke up to the sound of my 4 am clock. Groggily, I snoozed it, trying to fall back asleep. I tousled into my pillows until I couldn't anymore. Fully sitting up straight, I rested my head in my hands, relishing the darkness for a moment. When I pulled them away, I looked around again.

Where am I?

The room I was in was generously spacious and the walls looked lavender from the LED lights outlining the structure of the ceiling. I spotted a white desk hosting a desktop computer with a keyboard and mouse neatly arranged, and a rolly chair. Right beside it was a built-in bookshelf. 

To my left was a black leather couch that sat opposite the desk and I noticed a half-opened laptop resting on it, connected to a docking station. Then up front was a wall-mounted smart TV, and to my right was a Bessarabian rug pinned to one wall with a conspiracy board attached.

My eyes traveled further right, where I spotted an overturned camera, along with scattered memory cards. My attention span made me shift to the center, where an array of large windows provided stunning views of the city skyline. I looked in awe at the breathtaking view of blinking city lights and the dark grey sky hiding foggy slivers of light from the clouds. 

Suddenly, the reflection of a red flag caught my eye. I willed my eyes to adjust to the dimmed atmosphere of the room when the reflection prompted me to turn around. Behind me, hung above the bedpost, was a red flag with a golden hammer and sickle on the corner.

The Soviet flag.

Suddenly, everything came rushing back to me in a heap. The mission. The Decepticons capturing me. Starscream killing my brother. I bet it wasn't a coincidence that I felt my chin jutting. 

I pushed my thoughts aside as I got dressed and did my hair. I walked into the bathroom intending to brush my teeth when right when I held the brush to my mouth, I looked at the mirror. 

The face staring back at me wasn't mine but Gregg's. 

His blonde hair tousled, his brown eyes stared back at me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

My grip on the toothbrush slackened, and it clattered into the sink. I stumbled backward, my heart pounding against my fractured ribs. The reflection remained, Gregg's face hauntingly superimposed over my own.

"Gregg?" I whispered.

The figure in the mirror didn't respond, his gaze seeming to pierce through the depths of my soul. Fear clutched at my chest as I reached out a trembling hand, fingers grazing the cold surface of the mirror. The reflection remained, unyielding.

Rapidly, my breaths came in short gasps as panic took hold. Desperation etched across my face, I turned the faucet, splashing water onto the mirror in a frantic attempt to erase the haunting image. Water droplets cascaded down the glass, distorting Gregg's face momentarily before the image reasserted itself.

"No, no, no," I muttered in Russian, my voice rising in pitch.

In a surge of courage, or perhaps desperation, I grabbed a towel and vigorously wiped the mirror, my movements frantic. As the fabric swept across the glass, the image of Gregg slowly dissipated, leaving behind my reflection.

I stood there, chest heaving, the bathroom now filled with a tense silence as I tried to put together what the hell just happened. After mere moments of standing, I breathed out a long, shaky breath trying to recollect myself. Gregg was not going to get out of my head. Not until the Decepticons pay for what they've done. 

I quickly splashed water on my face and dried it as I headed out of the bathroom, downstairs. The vastness of the house threw me off a bit as it seemed to remind me of how lonely I was.