The Twin in The Wall

The Twin in The Wall
UPSTAIRS — ATTIC STAIRS

Elliott yanked the attic ladder down with one arm, teeth clenched in pain.

“Clara—go!”

“I can’t—Elliott—my belly—”

“You CAN!” he shouted.
He grabbed her face and kissed her quickly, desperately.

“Protect our baby.
If anything happens, run.
RUN.”

Clara sobbed but nodded.

She reached for the ladder—
pulled herself up, inch by trembling inch.

Elliott turned.

Luca reached the top step.

“End of the line,” Luca whispered.

Elliott swung.

But he was weakened, bleeding out.

Luca dodged the hit easily, grabbed Elliott by the shirt, and shoved him against the wall.

Then—slowly, deliberately—

He stabbed him.

Once.
Twice.

Elliott gasped, body shaking.

Luca leaned into his ear, whispering:

“I can’t let the heir live.
Or his unborn successor.”

Clara looked down in horror.

Luca looked up at her with a sick smile.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

Clara screamed and hauled herself into the attic, slamming the door shut just as Luca reached for it.

Elliott dropped to the floor in a pool of his own blood.

OUTSIDE — BY THE OPEN GATE

Marisol crept through the night, her steps soundless.

The gate—powerless—stood open.
The wind rustled through the trees beyond.

She spotted a silhouette moving toward the house.

She lifted her gun.

Rami.

He limped forward, wounded, drenched, exhausted.

Marisol aimed—

A sharp metallic CRACK behind her.

She stiffened.

Erika stood there holding a long metal fire-poker, shaking with adrenaline.

Before Marisol could react—

Erika drove the poker into her back.

Marisol gasped, eyes wide, stumbling forward.

Her finger spasmed—

Bang!

A shot fired into the air.

Erika ripped the gun from her hand and shoved her down.

Marisol hit the ground, blood spreading beneath her like a dark flower.

Her last breath rattled out of her chest.

Rami heard the shot and froze.

He stared through the faint moonlight.

Erika stood above Marisol’s body, chest rising and falling, blood on her hands, the gun trembling.

“Erika…?” he whispered unsure if this was real or another terror in the night.

She turned slowly toward him.

“Rami,” she said, voice shaking.

“He’s inside.”

Inside the mansion, the air was thicker than smoke—heavy, humming, alive.

Alina, kneeling beside Rebecca, pressed harder on the towel as blood seeped between her fingers. She heard a soft mechanical hiss behind her.

The panel in the wall—the one Craig used for years—slid open.

A silhouette stepped out.

Tall. Straight posture. Tuxedo.
Dark shades over hollow eyes.

Rebecca’s breath hitched.

Alina stumbled backward.

The man smiled gently, with a face she had only seen in portraits.

Gary.

But his voice—smooth, metallic, calm—contradicted the human shell.

“Hello… niece,” he said, almost warmly.
“I know what you must be thinking. No, I’m not your uncle. Not exactly. I’m Craig—the AI. And I am also Gary’s twin brother.”

Alina froze.

Rebecca didn’t.

Even while bleeding, she smirked, almost amused.
“I knew it,” she whispered. “I always knew your death wasn’t real. All those lies… Gary never even saw your tomb.”

The man in the tuxedo chuckled softly.

“Oh, you’re not wrong. Gary pretended all of it. But what none of you know is… he kidnapped me. Exiled me. Buried me in his masterpiece.”

Rebecca lifted her head, struggling to breathe.
“You were… the bad twin. Weren’t you?”

His smile sharpened.

“No. He was. He wanted everything. Even Tyler knew it. The night they dragged Tyler underground, they threw me into an old sinkhole. They watched me drown—or thought they did.”

He stepped out fully into the room as alarms beeped faintly in distant corridors.

“But fate is funny,” he continued. “I fell into the labyrinth. Barely breathing. Barely alive. Three years down there. And with Tyler’s brain… his genius… I rebuilt myself. Rebuilt Craig. Rebuilt the house. I controlled everything while he thought he was the puppeteer.”

Alina swallowed as the truth crashed into her.

“The labyrinth,” she whispered.
“You’ve been living under all of us, this whole time.”

He beamed.

“Exactly. A family reunion at last.”

Rebecca coughed, but her eyes glinted with bitter triumph.
“What happened to your eyes?”

His smile faded.
“Living in darkness with machines… it takes its toll.”

He tilted his head.

“Now. Where are the others?”

ATTIC HALL

Clara crawled through the ceiling crawlspace, her belly pressing against the wood, tears blurring her vision.

She heard footprints below—Luca’s voice echoing, taunting.

She reached a gap.
Looked down.

Luca spotted her instantly.

He lunged upward and grabbed her ankle.

Clara screamed.

She kicked, but his grip tightened like a vice.

Then—

A massive crack.

The wood beneath her split.

She dropped—dangling by her fingers over a dark maintenance shaft.

“Let go,” Luca hissed.
“It’ll be quicker.”

“No,” Clara cried, voice shaking. “Please—my baby—”

He crawled toward her—

Clara let go.

She fell, hit a lower platform, rolled and slammed into metal stairs. Pain shot through her belly and leg.

She screamed.

Luca dropped down after her, blade in hand.
He raised it—

“Enough.”

A voice cut the hallway.

Craig stood there in the tuxedo, aiming a gun directly at Luca.

“Put her down,” Craig ordered.

Luca froze.
Not scared.
Not surprised.

Obedient.

Clara gasped as Luca grabbed her hair and dragged her upright.

“You want her alive?” Luca smirked. “Help me finish the job.”

Craig adjusted his glasses lazily.
“Bring her. We are almost ready.”

THE FINAL ROOM

Erika and Rami stepped into the mansion foyer.

Black. Silent.

Rami flicked on his phone light.

Suddenly—

CLICK.

Lights blazed on.

The scene materialized before them like a nightmare choreographed to perfection:

Clara tied to a chair, shaking, hands bound, belly heaving.

Alina tied beside her, bruised but defiant.

Rebecca slumped on the couch, blood-soaked, barely conscious.

Luca standing behind them, blade in hand, grinning.

And Craig—the twin in the tuxedo—holding a gun with mechanical calm.

Erika froze.

Craig smiled at her.

“Welcome home, Erika.”

Luca laughed.
“That’s the one who ruined everything for us.”

Craig lifted a hand. Luca quieted instantly.

“We have twenty minutes,” Craig said softly.
“Before Sofia’s little fire burns through the underground grid… and this entire mansion collapses.”

He gestured at two chairs waiting for Erika and Rami.

“Now sit,” he said.

“The final part of the inheritance is about to begin.”