“...ah, yes, yes- I’ll just be in for a moment. I’ll call when I’m done.”
Kenny waves off the guard, watching as the silvery figure, lithe and helmeted, departs from view down the corridor.
He slides his finger along the locking mechanism, recently installed, waiting with his finger to his chin as the door beeps open.
He cracks his neck to the left, to the right.
Checks the list board in his hand.
He steps inside.
“Silver and cold, like before...” he muses as he looks around again.
But this time, he doesn’t have to marry a conspicuous blast door.
Or rush out the gates in a gift of borrowed clothes.
The corners are the same.
The boring walls.
The shiny floor.
But from one of those corners, the shadow of a crumb that shouldn’t be there.
Kenny turns to call for the guard, his shoulder-length silver hair flashing its waves as he spins.
He opens his dark olive lips, then shuts them again, with a sigh.
The guard left.
He steps closer to the left corner, the offending location.
The big dent is still there from where he pitched the left half of door.
And further down, a hair of possibility.
For his feet are turning cold in the draft coming in from the tiny, tiny crack in the supposedly solid wall.
“A hidden passage... I take it this won’t end well for me then,” he murmurs, recalling how he died in a sandy cave a couple of weeks ago.
He looks down quickly at his boots before pushing against the crack.
Ice is forming on the rounds of his boot-toes.
He pulls open the strange sliding door now revealed by the sliver of creeping cold air, and steps inside to find...
“It’s you? But you’re... not this way. Not... this! Agh!”
A pale hand crawls out from the opening, and shuts the door again, sealing the secret of Kenny’s disappearance away with a tidy little laugh.