Tom reloaded his gun with impressive speed before taking aim at the targets again and opening fire.
He'd already completed the obstacle course part of his assessment under an impressive time of one minute and forty six seconds. Now he's on the shooting range to test him on his aim and dodge skills as the targets popped into view in several different directions – some of them even firing back at him with paintball rounds, and he had to duck behind barriers and stay low as he weaved his way around in order to collect sufficient points before the timer runs out.
For every target hit he gets one point. Hit them directly on the bull's-eye and he gets three points. However, for every time he gets hit he is deducted two points. And if he gets hit in a vital area then that's four points taken away.
He continued to fire at the targets ahead of him in rapid succession, alternating between reloading and dodging on occasion. His mind was completely focused on the task. His movements were precise and nimble as he aimed from target to target.
A loud buzzer bellowed throughout the room signalling the end of the test, and Tom immediately stopped what he was doing and raised his hands.
"Times out."
He glanced back to see Tord approaching him, flanked by Paul and Pat on either side of him. Tom tried to read his expression but the small smile on the Norwegian's face was neutral at best and he couldn't tell whether he's doing well so far on the assessment.
"Well done." Tord said as he reached him. "Ready for the final part of your soldier assessment?"
Tom gulped and nodded.
He was nervous about this part of the test the most. As much as he gloated, Tom only managed to pin Tord down once in all of their training sessions. He can only hope that he will be able to replicate his success from then now.
As they made their way into the fighting ring, jumping over the elastic barriers, Tom expected Tord to climb the opposite side and stand across from him. But imagine his surprise when the one who faced him was not Tord but-
"Patrick?!" Tom exclaimed. "You're the one I'm fighting?"
The Polish soldier dipped his head. "Well met, Tom." He greeted. "It seems to be that way, yes. Hope you are relieved, but not disappointed." There was a humorous edge to his voice.
Tom blinked, his gaze flickering over to Tord. The Norwegian had a smug knowing grin on his face as he met Tom's stare. He really thought that he was going to have to fight him, seeing as how he was so skilled in combat and would judge his performance the most critically. But on the other hand, Tom could see the sense in switching his final opponent for someone who's fighting style he was unfamiliar with.
Still, he won't dare make the mistake of underestimating Patrick.
"Alright, so here are the rules." Paul announced beside him. "You have three minutes to pin each other down. The one who pins the other for more than three seconds is the winner. Should you run out of time before a winner can be determined, both of you must stop fighting right away. Any questions?"
Pat and Tom remained silent, already analysing one another for their weaknesses and strengths.
Paul stepped back. "Ready?"
Tom braced himself, but made sure to keep his legs light. A soldier fights with ease, not stiffness. Tord's advice rang in his ears. Fight with your wits as well as your fists.
"Fight!"
Tom wasted no time and charged forward, swinging a series of punches towards Pat. The Polish soldier deftly evaded his attacks and ducked away. Amusement lit his gaze as he caught Tom's punch and saw surprise emerge in his hollow eyes. Before Tom could plan his next move, Patrick pulled him forward hard and then darted past him; letting the eyeless man stumble and lose his footing as he whipped around and kicked the back of his knees to send him toppling down.
Recovering in the very last second, Tom rolled forward before quickly jumping to his feet again; facing Patrick.
The General rushed at him with no hesitation. He was so quick that Tom hardly had time to dart out of the way or plan his defensive moves. Patrick kneed him in the gut, then roundhouse kicked the side of his head sending him staggering sideways. He tried to counter with a left hook, but Patrick immediately leaped back out his reach before rounding him again with more kicks.
He's so fast! Tom though in dismay. I may be physically stronger, but that doesn't mean anything if I can't land a hit.
Admittedly, Tord was more ruthless with him in training than Patrick; however what the General lacked in power he certainly made up for it in agility.
I need to outsmart him.
Suddenly, Patrick grabbed a hold of his shoulders and jumped, twisting his whole body to wrap his legs around Tom's neck in a chokehold of sorts and repeatedly elbow him on the head. Dazed by the blows, Tom lost his balance and fell over with Pat on his back.
"Three…"
Tom was hardly conscious enough to hear Paul's voice as he started the countdown, and panicked the moment that the information sunk in. But rather than struggling to get back up and knock Pat off, he forced himself to relax instead.
"Two…"
Tord's eye widened in dismay, drawing in a hitched breath as he watched. Tom was panting, his eyes half-closed and his muscles limp as Patrick pinned him down. Is he going to give up just like that?
Before Paul can finish the countdown however, Tom surged upward, slamming his head against the bottom of the General's chin and dislodging Pat's hold on him. He then grabbed one of Patrick's legs with both of his own, and rolled over to revert their positions. At once, the Polish soldier tried to kick him off, to which Tom jumped back to his feet and stepped away before the blow could strike him.
Tord let out a relieved sigh to see that Tom hadn't lost the fight after all.
"Not bad." Patrick commented as he scrambled to his feet.
He charged at Tom again. As he struck out, Tom ducked low so that the blow only ruffled his hair. Patrick leaped at him again, moving to twist his legs around Tom's neck.
Not this sh#t again. He clenched one of his arms around Pat's leg just in time, and then flipped the Polish soldier off of him and slammed him to the ground. Tom leaped at him and suddenly the two men were locked together, striking at each other with all of their limbs as they struggled to pin the other down.
I can't believe how good Tom has gotten, Tord thought with a glimmer of pride. He's improved a lot since he first joined us; in more ways than one.
A moment later, Tom threw himself on top of Patrick to pin him down after stunning the General with a combo blow to the gut and head.
"Three…"
Although winded, Pat flailed beneath him to try and get away. In response Tom tightened his hold; clenching his eyes shut as he forced his weight down more, praying for this to be over as soon as possible.
"Two…"
He didn't let up. Even as Patrick continued to try to wriggle free of him and even struck him on the head multiple times, Tom remained strong.
"One…"
As Paul reached the end of the countdown, Patrick ceased struggling and allowed himself to relax and lie back, catching his breath. Tom however hasn't moved from his spot and continued to pin him down; suspicious that this was all a ruse and not yet realizing that the fight was over.
"Uh… Tom? It's okay. You can stand up now. You won." Tord's voice roused him from his intense focus.
Tom dared to open one eye. When he wasn't immediately thrown off and assaulted with kicks again, he allowed himself to relax and got off of Pat. "Sorry. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" He asked as he offered his hand out to the Polish man.
"Oh, I'm fine! Don't worry about it, Tom. People usually get a lot more roughed up than this in assessments." Patrick explained as he grabbed Tom's hand and was pulled to his feet. He dusted his uniform. "Are you okay though? You took quite a lot of hits back there. Sorry for that, but I couldn't exactly go easy on you."
"I'm alright." Tom reassured, wincing slightly at the headache building in his head. "But is that it then? The assessment is over? Did I pass?"
"Your soldier assessment is done now, yes." Tord spoke up as he approached them with Paul next to him. "And while Paul and Pat return to their duties and discuss your overall score, we will move on to your monster assessment."
Tom glanced nervously at Tord. He was tired after completing the soldier assessment. It hadn't been long since Tord and he had figured out a way for him to shift into his monster half at will and then back to human again without needing to experience all the stages of his transformation. Tord had told him then to call out the monster with his mind, focusing his thoughts onto his body and picture it changing. Could he do it now, especially when it was needed of him for his assessment?
I have to, he told himself. This is too important. Tord is counting on me.
"Indeed! We'll let you know the results as soon as we're able." Paul added.
"If everything goes smoothly running the base we might get it done by today." Patrick ruffled Paul's hair affectionately. "With any luck I might just be able to have enough time to trim your hair tonight as well, love."
"Yes, his hair has been growing out of proportion lately." Tord agreed, crossing his arms. "Don't forget to exterminate the huge furry caterpillars attached to his face while you're at it."
Paul laughed dryly at his comment then stuck his tongue out at his leader.
The four of them left the training room and trekked together through the corridors. They eventually split up paths as Paul and Patrick headed for the main lift, and Tom and Tord made their way towards the enclosure. Stepping through the gates Tom couldn't help but sweep his gaze around the immense room. Though he should be familiar with these surroundings by now, seeing as how he spends most of his time here in his monster form, he could only remember vague glimpses of this place.
He remembers leaping and climbing the ledges, surveying the enclosure from above. Diving into the pool. Taking lots of naps. And occasionally messing around with Tord whenever the Norwegian man was trying to teach him tricks.
"Ready, Tom?" Tord asked, breaking the silence.
Nodding, Tom closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He pictured his hands enlarging, imagining his teeth changing, his tail and horns manifesting, his feet bending, and his ears elongating and twitching. He felt himself shudder with the effort and an uncomfortable tingling sensation passed through his veins. His claws trembled. Energy fizzed through his being. That happened last time too. It must be working.
Triumph pulsed through Tord as Tom opened his eyes in his half-shifted form, regarding him with pricked ears and a solemn nod.
From there, Tord proceeded to put Tom's monster's skills to the test.
By showcasing impressive feats of agility and strength as he raced Tord three laps around the enclosure's perimeter, and then later effortlessly lifted heavy objects he normally would've never been able to move, Tord could easily say he was impressed. In this form Tom was stronger and faster than his best trained soldier, and he can jump great heights too. Tom seems to be in control for the most part, although he occasionally tends to slip back and forth between his human and monster mind-sets; and he has a bit of trouble properly controlling his tail and ears as they often twitch without his input. That seems to put Tom off a tad, but Tord honestly found it outright adorable.
Tord jerked out of his thoughts as he noticed Tom's sudden restlessness and discomfort, which could only mean one thing.
"Well done, Tom." He praised earnestly. "Ready for the final part of your assessment?"
His only response was a curt and raspy growl before Tom's eyes conjoined into one and he began to enlarge at a rapid rate, tearing his clothes into fragments.
Tord stepped back and watched the transformation occur until the monster finally loomed over him, shaking its pelt. Looking frighteningly beautiful and majestic as always. Single socket pinned him down like a spear.
Whistling, Tord beckoned the monster closer. It leaned down toward him, lowering its head with a small croon. Once it was low enough he reached forward and climbed its head, swinging his leg over the other side of its neck as he settled down on the back of its head; just a little behind between the horns.
The monster lifted its head and straightened up again, making a noise somewhere between a purr and a growl.
"Alright, let's see now…" Tord contemplated, tapping his chin. He frowned briefly as he noticed the stray purple hairs sticking to his uniform already and promptly shook them away as best he could. "Up!" He motioned upwards to one of the platforms standing above them.
The monster swerved its head, following the direction he was pointing at and backed up to get a better angle. It crouched down, rocking its haunches before leaving the ground in a massive leap to stand on top of the platform. Tord grabbed a fistful of fur in both hands to keep from falling off the gargantuan beast.
He proceeded to direct it to jump towards different ledges a few more times, the two of them climbing higher and higher in the enclosure until they nearly reached the ceiling, and the monster had to duck in order to comfortably accommodate its large size as they surveyed the entire area.
"Brann!" Tord commanded.
The monster crouched, clenched its jaw, and summoned the fire from deep inside it. It sizzled into its throat like a building flame. Finally it opened its mouth and shot a shimmering blast of fire into the air. Tord watched the roaring flames with fascination.
After ordering it to jump back down to the ground, his belly fluttering as they fell and landed with a massive thud, he decided to step things up and make this more interesting.
"You know, Tom; while you're doing a marvellous job so far I don't think this enclosure gives your talents enough justice." Tord spoke up, lifting his robotic arm and pressing a button. "So why not take this up a notch and try out somewhere more… fitting of your capabilities."
The far wall of the enclosure rumbled as it slowly lifted upwards to reveal a wide gaping tunnel. Not just any tunnel. It is the exact same hole the monster had dug through to escape containment that first time after melting the wall with its fire breath. After Tord had his engineers fortify the enclosure and make it fireproof, the hole through the mountainside still remained and he had the brilliant idea to make it a direct pathway leading to the outside.
The monster cautiously drew closer to the yawning mouth of the tunnel, sniffing the air as it detected a fresh breeze blowing from within.
"Go ahead, Tom." Tord encouraged, lightly running his hands through the soft fur. "It's okay. You can go out. I know how much you've been craving to go outside so I-"
He didn't get to finish his sentence as the monster abruptly charged forward.
Paws skidding wildly on the steel floor in its haste as it bolted. Tord barely had the chance to tighten his grip on the monster as they delved into the tunnel, stumbling upward in the dark toward the open air, following the breeze along the passage. Tord crouched low, pressing his entire body to flatten himself against the monster's back so as to avoid getting crushed by the ceiling. The monster's fur scraped against the tunnel walls.
Then he saw the bright outline of the tunnel exit, and they burst out into the open.
The monster fluffed out its fur against the chilly early-noon air. The weather was crystal clear; not a speck of cloud anywhere in sight among the vast blue sky. Despite the beautiful sunny weather however, it was still pretty cold out with the harsh mountain breeze sweeping through the area. Wind rippled over short, springy grass interspersed with creeping clovers and wild thyme.
From this vantage point, high in the mountainside they could view everything.
Miles of green flowery fields and moors stretched as far as the eye can see, spread out between stony hills. A mountain chain surrounded them on all sides and even further beyond the horizon. The ground rose and fell in a series of gentle slopes. A river could be seen cutting through one of the slopes, flowing down and feeding into a wide lake. Several smaller lakes were scattered around the lush valley. A deep ravine split the land farther west; and beyond that, small colourful and quaint looking lodgements could be seen cluttered close together. A town, perhaps.
The monster let out a thundering roar as it leaned over the edge of the tunnel.
Lifting his arm to block out the sun Tord blinked against the harsh light, trying to adjust his vision. He didn't get the chance to get used to it however, as the monster plunged forward and started to make its descent down the steep rocky mountainside.
The beast climbed down in long strides, launching itself forward and letting gravity do most of its job to get down faster. Its single socket fixed intently over the horizon which it longed for to explore.
"Tom, stop!"
At the sudden command, the monster skidded to a halt. Digging its claws into the loose earth of the hillside and sending a shower of rocks tumbling down the slope. The monster lashed its tail in annoyance.
"It's best if we stick to the mountain area only." Tord said, patting the monster's head. "We don't want to attract unwanted attention to ourselves."
The monster whined in protest.
"Now don't be like that. There's plenty to see and enjoy right here." Tord tugged the monster's fur and pointed the other way. "C'mon! I know a perfect place for us to go."
While he wanted to give Tom a bit of freedom, knowing that the eyeless man greatly missed being outside and all, Tord had his misgivings. He doesn't want the possibility of running into one of his border patrols, or being spotted by an aircraft before the time is right to formally introduce the monster to the rest of his soldiers as his secret weapon. The border patrol massacre was still fresh in a lot of people's minds, and he doesn't want to risk his Generals going back on their decision to keep the monster should something go wrong.
So it's better to play safe and keep the monster away from the rest of the base.
However, the monster wouldn't budge to his command. It kept staring intently toward the horizon where specks of civilization could be seen in the far away distance.
"Tom." Tord stiffened, tugging on the fur again.
While he wasn't particularly worried about the monster reverting back to its savage ways and go into another rampage, it still concerned him that the asset might disobey him and insist on leaving the mountain range. "Come on; let's go this way."
After several heartbeats of silence, with only the strong gusts of wind buffeting their hair and fur in the air, the monster reluctantly turned away and climbed back up the way it came; glancing over its shoulder at the gorgeous prospect of freedom it was not allowed to obtain.
Guiding the monster, they took an earthy trail that led to grassy slopes below the moor-top. Heather was in bloom all around them. The monster breathed in the fresh and sweet scents, opening its mouth to let it bathe its tongue.
Gradually, the monster started to pick up its pace. Climbing and weaving its way around the paths with ease. As they broke from the stony hills onto the moor, they felt the wind tugging them.
"I know you can go much faster than this, Thomas." Tord urged, fizzing with excitement. "Go right ahead! Run. I can tell you're longing to."
The monster didn't need to be told twice.
It leapt forward, a little slow at first, but gradually gaining speed as it hared across the slope. Tail streaking behind, forked tongue sticking out of the side of its jaws, it raced as fast as it could. On its back, Tord held on. He screwed up his eye as the wind battered his face, and felt the rush of air as they crested the moor-top and saw miles of meadows and valleys stretch before them.
"Faster!"
The monster streaked into the wind with the sun dazzling their eyes. Leaping over chasms with ease, Tord felt as though they could keep on running forever until they soared into the vibrant blue sky like one of the eagles that flew and screamed above them.
"It's a real shame you don't have any wings, bud." Tord patted the monster, still enjoying the thrill of the ride regardless.
They travelled quite a long distance by the time the day neared its end and the monster tired itself out, and by then Tord decided they should have a pause and rest on top of a grassy hill before making their way back to the base. He sat down on a boulder under the shade of a tree, and observed with amusement as the monster rolled down the grassy slope.
Straight in front of them, the sun was sinking in a blaze of scarlet fire, petals of flame spreading halfway across the sky. Calm and filled with peace, Tord leaned back and watched the sun set.
Things sure changed a lot in the span of a year, hasn't it? Tord regained his old feelings for Tom back, he made incredible progress in the serum project, he managed to get the truth out of Tom and vowed to help him, found himself more at ease and true to his feelings instead of constantly trying to live up to an image he'd conjured up for himself, his army was on the brink of rising up to take over the world at long last, and Tom and he have grown close.
Needless to say; things haven't gone at all the way Tord had first intended. He'd always imagined being the Red Leader – cold and dominant but also aspiring respect and admiration from everyone he encountered, and that's how it would always be. Years and years in the future, he would have grown to be the most feared force in the world.
But now that he's learned to embrace his emotions, rather than reject them and pretend he's devoid of them, Tord could see that he was happier like this than had he insisted on being someone he was not. Of course, his reputation still matters a great deal to him and he keeps it up in front of his followers at all times. However, in cases when he is alone with Tom, Paul, and Pat; he could drop the facade and be true to himself without fear of judgment or appearing too weak. It wasn't at all what he wanted, but in the end turned out to be exactly what he needed. He was so lucky and incredibly grateful to have the three of them by his side.
Now if only he could resolve his unrequited feelings for Tom...
Tord jerked out of his thoughts by an unexpected bleat. A flock of sheep had wandered up the grassy slope and drew closer to them.
The sight of them wasn't all that surprising. After all, there were sheep almost everywhere in Norway. Although the woolly animals didn't necessarily belong to the Red Army despite living inside their perimeter, his tailors still needed to find the materials to create their uniforms from somewhere.
What did concern Tord however, was when the monster snapped its head toward the sheep and decided to approach them.
Now, he didn't mind if the monster decides to have a little bite to eat; but he'd hoped that Tom had at the very least gained enough control over his monster half to curb some of its more animalistic tendencies. Was Tord really about to experience a sheep massacre right before his very eye? God, he was already on thin f#cking ice with his tailors because of his frequent requests for more test subject clothes for Tom, and only recently had he managed to smooth things over with them by giving them a new project to work on – if they find out their source of fabric were annihilated by their secret weapon he will never hear the end of it.
Readying himself to whistle to call the monster back to him, Tord wasn't at all prepared for what happened next.
The monster towered over the sheep, tail wagging. The woolly animals bleated and scattered away in terror until the monster let out a soft bellow at them. Tord watched in amazement as the monster continued to chirp and croon, the sheep responding back with bleats of their own before gradually losing their fear enough to warily approach the giant purple creature.
Seeing that the monster wasn't going to do any harm, Tord allowed himself to relax and chuckled softly. Awn, he's making friends. He thought with mirth. How cute!
Observing the scenery before him, Tord continued to contemplate.
He wasn't the only one who went through a lot this past year. Tom has also changed a great deal since he first arrived in the base. He started out angry and defiant, suspicious of all their actions, all the while keeping a dark secret from the rest of the world because he was conditioned to believe he just wasn't worthy of living. But now he's grown more at ease around them, and with their help he managed to overcome the voice in his head and the monster side of him in order to live up to his full potential. Paul and Pat certainly grew quite fond of him. And Tom might have even grown a soft spot for Tord, if his recent behaviour toward him is any indication.
Tord's heart filled with love for Tom. They've been close friends once, and his heart broke for the eyeless man upon discovering all the suffering he'd endured and kept to himself. Tord remembered a time when Tom used to be bright and gleeful, but after his father's death his smiles became rarer. After Tord betrayed him, he stopped smiling at all. Was that part of the reason why he became so sharp and grumpy after? Was he to blame for bitterness hollowing out his heart and turning him so unhappy?
And yet, even now, despite all his misfortune Tord knew there was still warmth inside of him. Tom's grouchiness was like snow in winter, bitter and harsh to the unwary, killing any sort of joy and beauty but secretly hiding buds underneath that would blossom once spring returns. Tord can only hope he will continue to do right by him and get to witness what more amazing things he is capable of.
The sun had sunk behind the mountains by now, though great orange flares still streaked the sky. The breeze was growing colder. Rising to his feet, Tord realized he wasn't ready to return to the base just yet. He whistled and beckoned the monster to come to him.
The asset looked up from its spot where it was resting near the flock of sheep as they grazed the grass around them. It staggered to its paws and raced forward to meet him.
"Today was quite eventful, don't you think?" Tord asked as he rested the palm of his hand on the monster's snout. "What do you say about camping out here for a couple of days?"
He contacted Paul and Patrick soon after; explaining the situation and kindly requesting them to transport a few essential items Tom and he will need in their stay out here. The moon was rising by the time Paul and Pat arrived in a chopper, landing close by and making their way up to him with two duffle bags. The monster was resting nearby; its energy spent for the day and ready to shift back to human soon enough.
"So, what are the results?" Tord questioned as he met with his soldiers.
"The results are in…" Paul announced, pausing briefly for dramatic effect. "The monster is definitely more of a dog than a cat."
Tord frowned, fixing his Commander with a deadpan glare. "That's… that's great, Paul. But what about his assessment score?"
"You seriously worried about that? Really? After watching his performance - of course Tom passed, you big dumb-dumb!" Paul snorted, punching him lightly on the shoulder. "With flying colours, I might add!"
"Well, of course I knew Tom would do great and pass. I mentored him, after all!" Tord boasted, trying to hide the air of relief he felt at the news. "I just wanted to make sure you guys knew that and tallied up the score correctly. Knowing the two of you, you'd probably find some way to mess it up somehow!"
"Sure thing, sir…" Paul nudged him, winking.
Tord rolled his eye. "Can you guys manage the base on your own for two days?" He asked.
"You don't have any important meetings scheduled and nothing really enthusiastic should be happening lately, so we got it covered." Patrick answered. Then he added with a stern stare. "Although... you have been taking a lot of off time from work to be with Tom, sir. And while I think that's great for the both of you, maybe after this you should consider putting your time around the base for a little while just to throw off suspicion."
Tord narrowed his eye. "Did anyone say anything?"
"No, but you know they very well could. So just be more careful in the future, sir." Pat advised, his arms crossed. "I recommend you schedule an ideal balance between your work as Red Leader and your… escapades with Tom."
"Fine, fine, whatever you say, mom."
After bidding his soldiers farewell and watching them board the chopper and leave, Tord got to work in setting up the campsite; getting everything ready before Tom wakes up.
He shot a glance at the monster, still resting beside a tree with its head tucked between its large paws as it yawned. Tord proceeded to pitch up the tent and build a campfire, with the help of his lighter-thumb of course. Everything was ready in a matter of minutes. Last but not least, he unpacked a new set of neatly folded clothes for Tom and placed them near the sleeping beast.
Turning away, Tord sat down in front of the fire and waited.
When he finally came to, Tom was acutely aware of how cold it was. Shivering, he blinked open his eyes with a groan, only to find himself lying on grass and staring up at a dark starry sky. Tom lay still for a moment, processing what he was seeing and slowly realizing that this wasn't a dream. I'm… I'm outside?! Tom's eyes widened. He felt a jolt of alarm, and then relief.
Sitting up, Tom tried to recall how he ended up here, but his belly rumbled and suddenly all he could think about was how hungry he was.
Leaves rustled in the tree beside him, and he heard the crackling of fire nearby. Glancing around he found Tord sitting close by, his back turned to him and staring into the flames. Then Tom's gaze landed on the pile of clothes beside him, including his blue hoodie, and immediately started to dress himself.
Once he was fully dressed, Tom made his way over to Tord. "Commie? Why are we here?" He wondered. "And where exactly are we?"
Tord glanced at him, inviting him to sit beside him by the fire. "I thought you would like to be outside for a little while longer. It's a nice night, isn't it? We're within the army's perimeter; just a few miles Northwest from the main base." He said. "I thought it would be fun for us to camp out for a few days."
"Just the two of us?" Tom asked, a little nervous at the thought of being alone with Tord.
He peered around, his gaze sweeping over the darkened landscape surrounding them. He could only see silhouettes of mountains and slopes under the moonlight, but the fragment of a foggy memory told him that this very land during the day was a sight to behold.
"Man, I haven't gone camping since I was a kid. I missed this!" Tord sighed wistfully. "When I was younger, my grandfather used to take me on hunting trips whenever I came to visit and taught me how to shoot. Have you ever gone camping before?"
Tom shook his head. "The closest to camping I ever did was go on fishing trips with my dad." His stomach rumbled again. "Please tell me you were smart enough to pack food with you."
"Of course!" Tord rummaged through the duffle bags. "We've got coffee, water, sausages, soup, marshmallows, some chocolate bars, bacon, bread, and…" He pulled out a transparent silver and red bottle from the bag. "Ta-dah!"
"Smirnoff!" Tom gasped. "But… I thought I wasn't allowed to drink alcohol anymore?"
"Well, we can open a small exception for you today considering you passed your assessment and all." Tord handed him the bottle with a proud grin. "Congratulations!"
Tom was at a loss of words. He actually did it? He passed the test and he was going to become an official soldier for the Red Army. It was strange to feel so excited and so terrified at the same time.
"What's the matter?" Tord asked, instantly taking note of his lack of enthusiasm. "I swear to God, if Paul brought diet by accident-"
"Oh no, nothing is wrong." Tom quickly blurted, popping the bottle open. "Just… a little surprised, is all. I wasn't really expecting to be out here of all places, drinking Smirnoff again, and chilling around a campfire with you." He took a swig of the bottle and then stopped, looking at the bottle in astonishment. "Huh… funny."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I just… I don't remember it tasting this sweet before." Tom commented.
He vividly remembers all those drunken nights he spent chugging bottle after bottle of Smirnoff, trying desperately to numb his mind from the constant emptiness hollowing him, and the voice exerting it's willpower onto him. He used to drink so much that the alcoholic beverage eventually turned bitter to his taste buds.
Then with a pang of grief the bottle in his hands reminded him of the last time he'd seen his best friends. Memories from that one particular night, seemingly so long ago now, came flooding his head. The way he treated them. How concerned they were for him. How they hadn't the slightest idea of what he was planning to do then.
I'm sorry. Tom mourned, knowing he will never get to see either of them ever again. I'm so sorry.
He was brought out of his thoughts by Tord suddenly leaning closer and gently taking his hands in his. "What are you thinking about?" He whispered intently. "You can tell me anything, you know."
Anything, huh? Tom had his doubts, but figured he wouldn't have another chance to come clean about his concerns at a later date. And if he pisses Tord off in the process, so be it. It's not like he wasn't already used to it anyway. Then why does the idea make me so nervous?
"Truth is, I'm not… one hundred percent on board with joining the Red Army." Tom confessed, carefully pulling his hands out of the Norsk's grasp.
He waited for the incredulous objection to rise and tell him he has absolutely no choice in the matter and that he should just shut up and be happy with his fate.
But nothing happened.
Tom risked a quick glance at Tord, surprised to find the Norwegian man calmly observing him and silently encouraging him to go on.
What's his deal? Why isn't he yelling at me like he used to? In the past Tord wouldn't hesitate to put him in his place, but now he was strangely subdued for some reason.
"It's just that – and I know you already explained this before – but I don't think that global domination is going to improve anything. Especially not with the way you intend to achieve it." Tom continued, a little uneasy. "And now that I am finally in control of the monster, you expect me to willingly go out there and kill people for you. There's no excuse for what I do this time around. It's not the monster going on a rampage anymore – I'm the one who's going to kill people!"
"Don't think of it as "killing people" – that's not what we're about, Tom. Think of it as... fighting for a good cause!" Tord said, wrapping an arm around the Brit's shoulder. "I understand you have your reservations, but in a war death is unavoidable. There will be many casualties on both sides, but that's the price we have to pay if we want a permanent change to be made. If I wanted to simply rule the world and kill people I would start launching nukes left and right until everyone surrendered!"
Tom winced. "Must there be a war though? I still standby what I said about you being smart enough to find another way to do this."
"We've been over this, Tom. It's the only way to truly ensure that the changes we plan to install stay permanent and get rid of the opposition for good." Tord responded coolly. "I know it doesn't justify all the awful stuff that's going to happen, but just think of how much good we'll accomplish once the war is finally over! Imagine! Years from now people will be free to explore their individuality without fear, reach their true potential, and have the safety to do so. And it will be all thanks to you, Tom!"
Tom knew Tord was simply trying to comfort him, but his words spun him into a hurricane of terrible visions depicting images of the future bloodshed he intends to unleash upon the world in his quest for supreme control and power.
Innocent people dying. Families being torn apart. So much blood spilled. Cries of agony and misery filling the air.
All thanks to me.
Tom pushed the brutal images aside and tried to focus on something else Tord had said. It's not about killing people. He reminded himself. It's about fighting for a good cause.
"Ahh, but is it the right thing to do though? ~" The voice echoed his own concerns back to him, amplifying his doubts.
Forcing himself to push his concerns for the future aside for now, Tom realized he was still hungry and worrying over something that hasn't happened yet wasn't filling his stomach.
"What type of soup did you say we have again?"
Successfully changing the subject from such a heavy bleak topic, the two of them finally got around to cooking their food. Tom absolutely lost his sh#t when Tord heated up a can of soup with his own robotic arm; prompting them to get into a discussion about all the different uses he has installed for the prosthetic limb.
"Why the f#ck do you have that feature installed for?" Tom questioned incredulously.
"Too many all-nighters spent signing paperwork; and I got tired of getting up, going to the kitchen, heating up water in a kettle, and waiting for my instant noodles to be ready." Tord explained with a hearty chuckle. "So I solved my problems by just heating the palm of my hand!"
Tom shook his head, both impressed and mildly disappointed. "Paul wasn't kidding when he said you had a lot of sh#t installed, huh?"
"I have a robotic arm! Why shouldn't I take advantage of the situation to facilitate my life?" Tord pointed out. His arm beeped, signifying that the soup was ready and handed the can to Tom. "Did I ever mention that I also have my own inbuilt Wi-Fi network?"
"Literally, get out."
"Get out? This is my land!"
"So what are you saying? That if I stay close to you and pull out my phone I can get free access to the internet?" Tom asked, sipping his soup carefully so as to not burn his tongue. "Like, you're just a living router or antenna?"
"Sort of." Tord laughed, stabbing through a sausage with a stick and hovering it over the fire to cook.
"Why though?"
"So I can have Wi-Fi whenever I want? Duh!"
Tom combed a hand through his spiky locks. "Next you're going to be telling me that your arm has the potential to make you fly!"
There was a suspiciously long pause following his words, and he glanced at Tord only to find the Norwegian man with a pensive expression on his face.
"Don't even think about it, Commie! Your arm does not have the strength to lift your entire body weight into the air!" Tom argued. "How would that even work?"
"Okay okay, you got me there. Still would've been fun to figure that out though…"
They fell under a comfortable silence after a while, only filled in by the crackling of the flames in front of them and the occasional howling of the wind sweeping past as they ate their food. Tom glanced over to Tord, mesmerized by the way the firelight accentuated his handsome looks. But a nagging question in his head kept him from fully enjoying his presence.
"Can I ask you something… slightly awkward?" Tom said after a moment.
"Ominous." Tord shot back with a grin. "You can ask me anything."
"What am I to you?"
"Pardon?" Tord was taken by surprise, to say the least. He blinked. "What you are to me?" He echoed.
Tom nodded, staring at him in silent anticipation.
What kind of question is that? Tord shifted, squirming with discomfort as he tried to think of a proper answer. He knew the response he wanted to give, but he doesn't want to ruin their friendly relationship now that they're finally getting along with each other. Tord hadn't really given much thought to this before. Of course, Tom means a great deal to him and he would do anything to make him happy. And while The Red Leader within him sees Tom as a test subject he grew immensely fond of and is very possessive of, he genuinely sees Tom as someone who he holds very dear and close to his heart. But how can he convey that out loud in words without creeping him out?
For an uncomfortable amount of time, Tord just sat there staring at Tom at a complete loss for words.
Tom's shoulders sagged. "I am asking because I am just… really confused as to what our current stance with each other is." He explained. "We've done nothing but bicker and fight since we were teens, and it's strange not to hate you as viciously as I once did. I can't say that I forgive you, but… are we friends?"
I want us to be more than that. The Red Leader supplied, to which Tord vigorously brushed the thought away in order to give a proper reply.
"I suppose so." He said with a meaningful look. "If that's what you want, that is."
Tom sighed, hands dragging down his face. "I don't know how to do this. I still feel like insulting you every time I see you. But I also want you to be happy."
"I want you to be happy too, Tom."
The conviction in his words made Tom's heart skip a beat. The softness in Tord's gaze made his mouth dry. God, he was so nervous. But he urged himself to continue.
"I… look," he said, sounding uncertain. "You- you've done… a lot for me. You saved my life… you helped me combat the voice… and even helped me gain control over the monster part of me. I don't think I really thanked you for all that. I realize that I have always been hard on you for all the things you did wrong, didn't do, or that were bad without really taking into account all the good you did either. And that's not right. I can't just acknowledge everything bad about you without ever mentioning the good stuff too, because… there's a lot."
Tom tentatively placed his hand over Tord's human hand.
Tord turned away, his face flushing a little. "Its fine, Thomas. I've hurt you, after all – you don't need to thank me when all your problems were my fault to begin with." He pointed out. "I don't want to make you feel as though you owe me anything."
"Well, it's not your job to fix me, either!" Tom said. "Yes, a lot of my issues can be traced back to you but... you helped me in the end, and that's what matters. I can see how hard you are trying to do better."
Tord wasn't entirely sure where he was going with this, and had no idea how to request that he stop beating around the bush already without sounding peevish. He wouldn't want to ruin the tranquil mood between them.
However, the silence among them stretched, a yawning void that he could not bear to leave empty. Feeling awkward, Tord turned his head to look at Tom again, opening his mouth to speak, and that was when their lips unexpectedly connected in a kiss.
They both turned huge eyed and pulled away from each other an instant later.
Tord touched his lips in surprise. Holy sh#t.
Oh f#ck oh f#ck oh f#ck! Tom thought frantically.
"Gross. ~" Said the voice, not helping the situation at all.
An overwhelming wave of embarrassment, guilt, and shock instantly swept over Tom. He'd been aiming for his cheek; taking baby steps and trying to take things slow – but Tord just had to go and turn his head at the last minute and their lips just sort of… crashed together.
Panic overrode his senses and Tom felt the urge to implode and leave this plane of existence altogether.
Well, that's it then. My life is over! I am going to have to knock the Commie out, steal all the supplies, and just make a run for it. With any luck I can shift on my way out and leave the perimeter long before Commie wakes up and realizes what happened. Of course, there's the tracking chip on my spine, but I can find a way to remove it once I am far enough away from here. Hopefully. It's a shame I can't say goodbye to Paul and Pat, but the less people know about this the better. Where will I go, though? Spain sounds nice. Maybe farther, just to be sure. South America is not a bad choice either… I've always wanted to go sailing anyways.
His plans of escape were completely tossed away into the wind when Tord gently took hold of his face and dove in for another kiss.
The accidental kiss had sparked something in Tord. Every bit of restraint and reasoning left him the moment it happened, and now he found himself giving in to his Red Leader persona as he sought more of Tom.
He made a low, growl noise in the back of his throat as he kissed Tom hungrily. His robotic hand gently cupped the back of his head, while his other hand came to rest on his hip. Tom was tense at first and didn't respond. A few seconds later he relaxed into it, his eyes fluttering close as he kissed back, grabbing a fistful of Tord's uniform in one hand and cradling his injured face with the other.
After what felt like a wonderful eternity they had to tear away from each other to catch their breath. For a few seconds they just stared at one another, their faces beet red and flushing. Eyes wide with disbelief at what just took place between them.
Then Tord broke into a broad, unashamed, and slightly dorky grin with a half-lidded eye. "That was… certainly unexpected. Not that I am complaining, of course! But that was just. I mean. Wow! That. Wow!"
Tom could only nod in agreement.
"So… what-" Tord cleared his throat, ducking his head shyly. "What does… what does this mean for us?"
They sat there quietly for a while, basking in the warmth of the flames and taking their time to process recent events.
"I don't know." Tom replied, a bit breathlessly. "Truth is, I like you a lot, Tord." Despite the fact that they just kissed, he felt thoroughly embarrassed to confess his feelings now.
Tord's eye widened. "Y-you like me? After everything I've done to you…" His voice died away.
Tom felt as if his entire soul and being were on fire from embarrassment, but he managed to meet Tord's suddenly softened gaze. "I can't help it." He muttered, kicking a pebble into the campfire. "But you… you were the one who initiated the actual kiss. Does that mean you ... you like me, too?" He blurted; forcing each word out was a massive effort, but he had to ask the question. His heart fluttered with hope.
Tord didn't reply for a long moment, instead lowering his gaze. "Yes... yes, I do have feelings for you." He admitted at last. "But I am undeserving of your affection, seeing as how I have hurt you so many times." He closed his eye briefly as if in pain. "Frankly you deserve better."
Despite his words, he could feel the Red Leader side of him revolt and urge him to stop talking nonsense and just take the opportunity to finally be with Tom like he always wanted.
"Hey, I hurt you too, remember? You're not the only one who's guilty of something." Tom pointed out, his gaze flickering toward the robotic arm. "I'm really sorry for making it seem as though you are to blame for all my problems. When I said those things I thought… I was under the impression that I wouldn't have long left to live and I blurted things out of desperation without really thinking it through." He paused, his tone softening. "We're both trash, and usually that would mean that something like this could never happen between us. But if we're both willing to look past all the bad blood… if we make a promise to do better and never hurt each other that way ever again, then maybe… maybe this could work."
Then he reached up and gently caressed the injured side of Tord's face, running his fingertips delicately across his scars.
Tord shivered with delight and nearly melted at this touch, placed his robotic hand over his, and leaned into him. His heart skipped a beat, and he could feel the blood roaring in his ears. Peering into Tom's exotic and alluring dark eyes, Tord had a thousand things he wanted to tell him, but his mind shied away from vocalizing them. He loves him so much and for so long. After all, he was just so brooding. And handsome. And extraordinary. Frankly, how could anyone resist him?
Tom laughed. "Classic stupid Tord." He said, and Tord realized with a jolt of alarm that he must have said those things out loud. "I don't know about that, but I think I'll take the compliment anyway."
Truth be told, he was more than a little flattered by Tord's high compliments. Sure he'd been called handsome before by past flings, and he always so foolishly fell for their charm, but this time it felt more genuine coming from Tord. And extraordinary? He'd never been praised for looking different than the rest before. Tom never resented his looks per say, but there's a reason why his heart's greatest desire for a while was to have normal eyes. But despite all his flaws and imperfections, someone actually likes him for who he is. Tom never thought that love was ever a possibility for him.
He had been in many relationships in the past. As a teen, Tom was kind of laughably easy to charm. Usually he would fall for any pretty girl who'd give him the time of day, they would date for a little while, and then the girl would lose interest and unceremoniously dump him. Tom would have a cry about it, drink a little, and then he would be good as new. Mostly, anyway. He also had plenty of one-night stands, but he never had a relationship or been with a guy before.
So being with Tord should be interesting to say the least.
Relaxing, Tord blinked at him and smiled softly, enchanted and mystified. His concerns melted away. All he could think about now was their future together. Tord has had many one-night stands in the past, but he never had a serious relationship with anyone. He just… never really felt anything towards anyone other than a small fleeting attraction. Nothing like the way he feels toward Tom. He has no experience whatsoever with relationships and he figured he might wind up messing this up a lot. Hopefully Tom will be patient and lenient toward him as he learns the ropes. He is a fast learner, anyway.
"Okay, I'm going to say something that might sound really sappy and embarrassing, so please bear with me here." Tom warned him, half-serious and half -humorous.
"More embarrassing than what I just said?" Tord asked, lifting one eyebrow in disbelief. "Try me, Thomas."
"I just – I don't know, have this strange feeling in my gut," Tom said, looking earnestly into his eye. "That things will never be the same again, you know?"
They stared at one another for a long moment, letting the weight of the moment sink in. Then Tord wrinkled his nose. "Nah, you're right. That was pretty sappy, Tom."
Tom lightly shoved him aside. "Thanks for taking all the romance out of this, Commie." He said dryly. "Really needed it after confessing my feelings for you."
They laughed and shared another kiss, sealing the deal. Then they cuddled up by the fire and later looked at the swath of stars scattered across the dark navy blue sky together, the full moon shining bright above. Friends from the start. Enemies for most of their lives. And now they were trying their hand at being lovers. Who would've thought this where their lives would lead them to?
(Meanwhile…)
Something was lurking through the hallways.
Something sinister was stalking in the darkness and preying on whoever it could find. There was hardly a chance to even scream as it made quick work of its victims. It left a trail of blood and misery wherever it went. Its hunger could never be satisfied.
The Red Leader had been a fool to think he could curb the creature's vicious tendencies. Now everyone in the base is dead.
Everyone but her.
She ran, and ran, and ran but the horrible creature was always just right behind her until she was backed up in a dead end hallway. Heart pounding in her chest, she turned around. The beast was upon her; brandishing long, blood stained claws, a sharp set of teeth, long tail swishing behind it, and dark soulless eyes that pierced deep into her soul with no hint of mercy to be seen.
It killed her friends, and now it was about to finish what it started that one horrible night.
It lunged at her with outstretched claws and teeth bared.
Ella startled awake with a loud gasp, sitting up in bed wide eyed and struggling for breath. She placed a hand over her mouth to keep the noise down, conscious of her roommates sleeping soundly around her.
With a fresh pang of grief in her heart, she recalled her time with her former squadron – how if one of them ever woke up with nightmares or any other issues, they would gather around and offer comfort to whoever needed. But these people she now shares her quarters with would most likely snap at her for disturbing their sleep with silly nightmares.
Besides, it's not like she can share her dreams with anyone anyway. The Red Leader made it clear that she is to keep the nature of the secret weapon hidden from others at all costs. She cannot disobey that order.
Ella forced the images of her nightmare away from her mind with a shudder. Taking a deep breath, she climbed out of bed. A trip to the restroom might soothe her nerves.
Wearing sweatpants and a baggy shirt, she put on her slippers and cautiously picked her way out of the room. She warily slipped into the dimly lit corridor, looking both ways before fully venturing outside. Fragments of her nightmare still haunted her, and she half-expected a figure to come lumbering from around the corner.
Ella shook her head, trying not to let her wild imagination get the better of her and hurried toward the restroom.
Splashing her face with water, mindful of her injuries, she managed to cool down a bit. Everything is okay. The monster will never escape containment again. She told herself. Red Leader knows what he is doing. It's for the army's benefit. Everything is okay.
Lifting her head, Ella locked eyes with her reflection in the mirror. Her horrible fleshy face was a constant and painful reminder that, no; everything is not in fact okay. She'd been trying her damn hardest to make friends and move on with her life, but it's like everyone had an aversion to her. She knows that she makes people uncomfortable, but can't anyone look past that and give her a chance?
It's not like she wanted to have all of her friends devoured and her face messed up by a monster.
Still, it's not like she can actually do anything about that other than to keep trying.
Choking back a sob, Ella left the restroom. She wasn't in any hurry to go back to her quarters though. Sleep was the last thing on her mind right now, but soldiers are not allowed to leave their wings past lights-out. Lieutenants take shifts patrolling the base corridors during the night. If anyone is caught outside their wing during this period they'll be in a lot of trouble.
Ella doesn't want to go back just yet, but she isn't going to take any chances.
"Whatcha doin' outta bed, doll face?"
Instinctive fear whipped through Ella's veins, paralyzing her. She whipped around and came face to face with none other than Reagan. She didn't know whether to interpret his presence as better or worse than had it been a Lieutenant in his place.
"Well, geez." Said Reagan, regarding her with a tilt of his head. "Aren't you a jumpy one."
Recovering from her initial shock, Ella stared at him incredulously. "What are you doing here, Reagan?" She hissed. She knows for a fact that the Irishman doesn't live in the same wing as hers, so there shouldn't be any reason for him to be here in the first place. "If a Lieutenant catches you here you're going to get in so much trouble!"
"Awn, you do care for me!" Reagan placed a hand over his heart, touched. "I knew you would grow a soft spot for me eventually."
He'd been trying to get closer to Ella ever since their first encounter. Reagan would often find excuses to bump into her, skipping training to make more progress, and he was always very friendly toward her but to no avail. Ella consistently avoided and pushed him away, rejecting his advances. Imagine his delight when he stumbled upon her in the middle of the night.
Finally, a good opportunity to work his magic without needless excuses and distractions!
"What are you doing up late at this hour anyway?" Ella asked, shooting cautious glances over her shoulder. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"
"I don't sleep." Reagan told her bluntly.
"Ever?" Ella blinked. "Are you insomniac?"
"Something like that…"
Ella shook her head. This isn't time for idle conversation! "Whatever the case may be, you shouldn't be here. You should return to your quarters now if you know what's good for you."
"Is that so?" Reagan inquired. "If the rules mean that much to you, then how come you are out here sulking in the dark, doll face?"
"I was going back to my quarters." Ella paused, her tone softening. "I just… I needed to stretch my legs a little."
"Seems to me that you have quite a lot going on in your head." Reagan studied her. "Listen, I'm heading towards the kitchens to grab myself a bite to eat. You're more than welcome to accompany me. Who knows? It might be just what you need to get your mind off of things."
Ella gave a nervous start. "Come with you? Outside the wing?" Her voice shook. "I… no, I can't. It goes against the rules! We're going to get into so much trouble if we get caught."
"If we get caught." Reagan reminded, putting a finger up to her lips to silence her. "Maybe on your own you would have to worry about that. But lucky for you, I am by your side. Nothing is going to happen with me around, doll face." He walked past her, shooting her a grin. "Trust me. Live a little!"
"But…"
"Listen, I'm not ordering you to do anything. Just thought I would be nice and extend you the offer." Reagan cut her off. "I'm still a firm believer that no one should be judged by what other people say about them. And who knows? I'm sure the more time you spend with me, the more I think you'll find that I am an absolute delight to be around!" He smiled.
Ella hesitated. She doesn't fully trust Reagan yet to believe they could possibly get away with infringing the rules. It was wrong. Nothing good can come of it. And yet… her other option was to swallow her grief, go back to her quarters, try to sleep beside people she hardly knows, and pray not to be haunted by any more nightmares tonight.
Truth be told, she could use a bit of a side-track right about now.
Reagan glanced back at her expectantly. "You coming?"
Feeling as though ants were crawling through her skin, she made her choice.
Ella fell in step with Reagan as he led the way toward the canteen. They left her wing – the Carnelian wing – as they headed along the corridor, past all the other wings, down a flight of stairs, and away from the Great Hall where important announcements and gatherings usually take place.
At one point as they journeyed in the dark, Ella couldn't help but shoot a wistful glance at the corridor where the Burgundy wing resides as they walked past. That's where she used to live alongside her old squadron, before her life drastically changed.
Many people would be thrilled to be in her place and move to the Carnelian wing. It has some of the best living arrangements in the base, lots of high ranking soldiers reside there, and it's a promise of status. Usually only promising soldiers would get clearance to move there. In a way, it's almost as if she got promoted without necessarily ranking up. But Ella wasn't interested in status or power. She just wants her old life back, and greatly missed the casual comfort and rustic charm her old wing provided.
Plus; the soldiers there were a lot friendlier than the members of the Carnelian wing. Apparently, the more power and status you acquire the more haughty and insufferable you become. However, even the residents of her former wing didn't bat an eye at her when she was all alone to cope with her loss; so maybe they weren't all that nice to begin with.
Ella wasn't the only one to stop and stare at one of the wings.
Reagan had also taken a brief moment to pause near the entrance of the Scarlet wing.
There were ten wings in this base alone. Who knows how many there are with all the bases combined. But out of all of the wings, the Scarlet wing was the most sought after and prestiged. The great majority of Lieutenants reside there, as well as the Generals, and most elite members of the army. No one who lives there ever have to worry about silly things like cleaning or kitchen duties, and border patrols. Rumour has it that the shower stalls also have a sauna. Anyone would die for a chance to move there.
Reagan was no exception.
Although, it didn't really matter to him where he resides because, well, he never sleeps anyway and so has no reason to stay in his quarters for more than a few minutes at a time just to change clothes. But the status and rank that came with the corridor was more than very appealing to his eyes. Had he gained his rightful rank as Sergeant, like he was supposed to, he might have had a better chance to move in there.
But Red Leader just had to be an ass and ruin everything for him.
What sucks is that due to his demotion to private, Reagan had been kicked out of his former lodging, the Vermillion wing, and was expected to stay with all the newbies in training down in the Rust wing. A temporary set of quarters until the recruits completed their training and are assigned a squadron and a new wing to move to.
Like h#ll would Reagan go through that embarrassment! He would rather have his jugular slit then resign to his fate. At least then he would get some goddamn peace and quiet.
But no matter. If everything goes according to plan, he won't need some flimsy corridor to get his power from. The secret weapon should be more than enough for him.
They continued trekking down the hallway and arrived in a wide, spacious hall, with several tables spread about the room. The mess hall. In the far back of the hall was a balcony with glass casings where all the meals are served throughout the day. Two sets of stairs positioned on either side of the canteen leading to an upper floor with more tables with the view of the whole room; the space usually reserved only for higher ranks.
Ella nervously followed Reagan as he jumped over the balcony and made his way inside the kitchen. Soldiers are not usually allowed inside unless they were in line for kitchen duty for the week.
"Hurry up and grab your snack so we can get out of here quickly." She urged quietly, still glancing over her shoulder. "Before someone spots us."
"Sheesh! Relax, doll face." Reagan spoke up as he rummaged through the storage. "I've done this countless times before this. I know what I am doing. Nothing is going to happen to us."
"How can you be so sure?" Ella asked worriedly.
He shot her a knowing look. "I have my ways."
Waiting for him to be done, Ella decided to make herself useful and stand guard by the doorway. Maybe it was just for comfort, but she felt better having something to do; and if she could see danger coming toward them, then she would have a better chance of saving herself.
"Are you not having anything?" Reagan offered her.
"Huh?"
"This is your opportunity to take anything you want, doll face." He explained while making himself a taco; which wasn't scheduled to be on the menu until the day after. "You won't get another chance as good as this again. No one is here to say otherwise."
Ella shook her head. "It's bad enough that we left our quarters when we weren't supposed to. I'm not taking anything, thanks."
Reagan shrugged. "Whatever you say, doll face." He leaned closer to her. "Just between you and me… they have lots of different flavours of ice cream in the freezer."
Still waiting for him to finish preparing his snack, Ella found herself more and more tempted to take something. Her stomach grumbled. She was so hungry.
Lately she's been having a hard time trying to eat her meals. She could hardly taste anything since she was usually so preoccupied with the odd sensation of carefully moving her jaws in order to chew and eat and drink especially, so as to not spill anything and make a mess of herself. In the infirmary, it had seemed so normal. Just a part of her recovery. But she was better now. Back among her comrades. Why was eating still so difficult? She must look so weird and repulsive, trying to keep the food from dribbling out from the shredded side of her mouth. So to avoid having others see such disgusting display, she always snuck her meals into the restroom, away from everybody, and eats out of sight.
Of course, it's not like she can sneak a whole tray of food out of the cafeteria with her. So Ella took only fruits and sandwiches with her, but they weren't enough to fill her stomach.
Her belly rumbled as if to remind her she was still hungry. God, what she wouldn't give for a hot meal right about now.
Reagan caught the uncertainty glittering in her gaze, and smirked. "Go ahead." He encouraged, handing her a taco.
She hesitated. "But… it's not right."
"You worry too much. How will anyone know?" Reagan murmured. He narrowed his eyes until they were tiny green slits. "I won't tell if you don't."
"I… I…"
Shooting an anxious glance at Reagan, Ella couldn't help but notice the large quantities of food the base has stored. Safely and neatly tucked away for when they were ready to be prepared and served for all the hard-working members of the Red Army. Surely no one would notice anything go missing when there's so much to go around?
Just this once…
Ella graciously accepted Reagan's offer. "Thank you." She said as she took a taco for herself.
"Don't mention it." He winked her way.
After gathering their snacks, they made their way out of the mess hall under the cover of darkness. Ella accompanied Reagan still; sticking close to him as they maneuvered their way around the base to avoid the Lieutenants patrolling the halls.
"Ta-dah!"
Reagan uttered enthusiastically as they arrived in the Entertainment hall, a large spacious area that was divided into three different sections; the game room, the cinema room, and the gym. This is where soldiers often go to in their spare time to unwind and socialize with each other.
An area solely meant to incentivize the individuals that make up the strength of the Red Army to build stronger bonds with each other and make them loyal. Keep them nice and under control. Reagan has got to hand it to Red Leader. He sure knows how to play the manipulation game just as good as he can.
"Welcome to my crib!" Reagan spread his arms and turned to Ella with a charming grin.
"So instead of sleeping you just spend the entire night here?" She asked.
"Pretty much, yeah" He plopped down on the sofa, taking a bite out of his taco and turning the television on. "That's the great thing about not sleeping, doll face. While everyone else is busy doing just that, it leaves everything else free and mine alone for the taking!"
The night is mine to rule!
"Come." He tipped his head to one side, cordially inviting her to sit down too. "If we're going to snack and chat, we may as well be comfortable."
"But what if a Lieutenant walks in and catches us?" Ella settled down next to him, slightly facing away to take careful bites out of her taco. Self-conscious about anyone seeing her eat.
Reagan chuckled. "They're no trouble. I have ways to turn their heads the other way."
Over the years he had memorized the patrol schedules of the Lieutenants, and learned exactly which ones to avoid and which ones he had power over. By eavesdropping here and there around the base, and spying of course, Reagan managed to gather sufficient juicy information on certain individuals and actively uses it against them. So unless they want him to spill the beans and let the rest of the base know their dirty secrets, they will do as he says and let him do whatever he damn wants.
His influence even extends as far up to one of the Generals.
Depending on the occasion, if he plays his cards just right, Reagan is basically untouchable. The rules do not apply to him. So long as the Red Leader is not in the picture that is…
Speaking of which-
"If Red Leader finds out about this…" Ella fretted.
"He won't! Do you honestly think anyone that "important" and busy would waste their time disciplining soldiers who skip bedtime for a midnight snack?" Reagan pointed out. "Besides, when was the last time anyone's seen him around the base anyway?"
He brings up a pretty good point there. The Red Leader used to be a very imposing and prominent figure in the base. Though he did not join them on most of the base's activities like patrols and training, he was still very much involved in all happenings occurring around the place. He also had the tendency to make unexpected appearances; catch soldiers off guard and inspire them to work harder and take it seriously.
However, in recent months his presence has been less frequent.
The last time Ella had seen the Red Leader was when he visited her in the infirmary and delivered the awful news about her friends all those months ago.
She shrugged. "I'm sure Red Leader has his reasons."
"Hmm… like working on keeping the secret weapon under control, you mean?"
Reagan paused, greatly amused by the way her muscles tensed up at the mention of the Red Army's most closely guarded secret.
He gazed admiringly at her as though he were unaware of her discomfort. "You know, for what is worth, I am deeply sorry for your loss." He went on, his tone sombre and cool. His green eyes were round with sympathy. "I wasn't around when the whole event happened, but it is still such an awful blow. Twenty four good comrades died. Your life basically went to sh#t. And all because Red Leader couldn't control whatever science project he keeps hiding in his basement. Frankly, it just doesn't seem fair to you. Plus; am I the only one terrified to be living near something so dangerous? What's stopping it from happening again?"
Ella's single eye was brimming with hope as she gazed at Reagan as though he was someone who finally understood her plight. No one had so much as tried to sympathize with her since the horrific incident. But to hear her own thoughts coming from someone else was reassuring to say the least.
Reagan interrupted her thoughts. "I mean, I understand what Red is going for. If I were in charge of taking over the world I too would keep an ace up my sleeve. But at the cost of putting the safety and wellbeing of the soldiers at risk? Seems a tad excessive to me." He said matter-of-factly. "Red doesn't even trust us enough to confide what the h#ll he's actually created down there. That alone troubles me greatly. Hardly any of us know what he is hiding! But let me tell you, it would be really comforting to learn what Red Leader is keeping in his basement… maybe that way I could be more certain there's nothing to worry about. Put my mind at ease..."
At once, Ella found herself compelled to disclose everything with Reagan. When was the last time she had an actual honest to God conversation with someone other than exchanging mere pleasantries?
She longed to share with him all of her concerns about the secret weapon, and the horrible nightmares plaguing her mind even in the waking world. How much she missed her friends, and how she wished with all her heart that things were the same as before.
However, just as she even considered the idea she was suddenly reminded of Red Leader's words to her back in the infirmary, and the promise she made to him. He is counting on her to keep the dreadful creature a secret from the rest of the army. Who knows what he'd do if she broke that promise.
With a heavy heart, she replied instead. "There's… nothing to be worried about. Red Leader knows what he is doing." Her gaze dropped to the floor. "It's for the army's sake, and he would never purposely endanger us."
Despite her disappointing answer, Reagan's face remained neutral. Interesting. He mused. Despite everything she is still loyal to Red and blindly trusts him. He is going to have to step up his game to break down her walls and her trust in Red. Only then will she finally spill the beans.
Shouldn't be too hard a task. He can already sense doubt in her through her posture alone.
"I sincerely hope you're right, doll face." Reagan conceded. "I sure would hate to be considered a mere afterthought in Red Leader's great plan. But if you say there's nothing to be worried about, then I guess there's nothing to be worried about. You would warn the rest of us if there was any real danger, wouldn't you?" He met Ella's gaze, suddenly earnest.
She stared at him, her eye glittering with unease. "Of course." Her voice shook.
His gaze was unwavering, and so intense that Ella found her sight glazing until the surroundings blurred around her and all she could see was Reagan's eyes.
She blinked, shivering. She was just tired.
Even so, she wasn't in any hurry to go back to her quarters or fall asleep again. Doubtful she would even be able to at this point.
"You mentioned having ways to turn the Lieutenants heads the other way." Ella changed the subject. "I presume you mean blackmail, correct?"
His only response was to give her a wide toothy grin.
She cleared her throat nervously. "Do you… do you happen to have dirt on pretty much everyone in this base?"
Ella still wasn't sure of what to make of Reagan. He was… definitely trying his all to befriend her despite her initial rejection. He was far from being a gentleman, by all means. However, he'd been nothing but attentive and kind to her whenever they interacted; which is far more than she can say about everyone else she tried to befriend. At least Reagan isn't afraid or uncomfortable to look her in the eye whenever they talk, and that was a breath of fresh air.
Still, they were too different. If she chooses to be friends with Reagan then he will surely get her into trouble sooner or later with his constant rule breaking tendencies. But what does she have to lose at this point? Everything she could have risked has already been taken away from her. Besides, don't they say that opposites attract? Maybe Reagan's laid-back attitude and carefree spirit is just what she needs to move on with her life. No one else in this base seems willing to give her a chance anyway.
So perhaps Ella will grant him a chance after all.
Reagan gave her a delighted expression. "Oh? Interested in learning my tricks, I see." His grin only widened. "Boy, let me tell you! I have dirt on basically everyone. If you only knew half the scandalous things that go on around here, and what some people are actually like! Ha! And people would do anything to keep these juicy details a secret…"
As he rambled on about all the individuals he currently has under his control, Reagan silently added the horribly disfigured girl to his list.
(Meanwhile…)
The sound of a low whine and fidgeting stirred Tord awake from his sleep.
His one eye blinked open, gradually getting used to the darkness all around him. He was inside the tent. He could hear the wind howling outside as it swept through the mountains. Despite the freezing temperature Tord was sleeping only in boxers and a shirt.
Blearily he lifted his head, searching for the source of the disturbance. His gaze fell on Tom. The eyeless man was beside him, tossing and turning and whimpering in his sleep. His face was contorted with pain and anguish.
"N-no… stop…"
Tord peered down at him with concern as he realized that the man was most likely having a nightmare. He had watched Tom have a nightmare before, back when he was running experiments on him in his laboratory. Back then however, Tom had been restrained. But now he was thrashing around more fiercely and clawing at the sleeping bags in his distress.
Worried he was going to hurt himself if this prolongs it, Tord leaned forward and began to gently nudge him awake. "Hey… Tom? Wake up."
All of a sudden Tom's eyes snapped open and he twisted around to shove Tord away, pinning him down and baring his teeth in a snarl.
"T-Tom?" Tord's eye widened as he was caged between Tom's arms.
Peering up at the eyeless man it was clear that he was… not entirely with it at the moment. His empty sockets were blown wide and unseeing as though he were someplace else, his breath coming in through tight gasps, and his body trembled every so often. Tord knew that expression quite well. His nightmares must've triggered some unpleasant memories.
As they stared at one another, Tom gradually grounded himself to reality as the memories of his nightmare faded away. "Tord?" He blinked, still dazed. Climbing off of Tord, he looked around wildly, trying to process where he was and the series of events that lead up to this moment. He hid his face between his hands. "I- I- I'm so sorry. I don't know…"
"It's okay." Tord sat up, reaching a hand out to him in the gloom. "I know you didn't mean it, but you're safe here, Tom. Nothing can hurt you."
"That's not what I'm afraid of." Tom said, sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest.
Tord hit himself over the head when he finally remembered a very crucial detail. "The Dreamcatcher! Blast me, I totally forgot to bring it with me!" After examining the device on Tom's orders and finding nothing the matter with it, he fully intended to hand it back to Tom but he must've left it on his desk in the test room. "I'm so sorry, Tom."
"It's not your fault." Answered Tom, his voice weak.
Tord swallowed hard. "Do you… we can go back to the base if you want to. I'm sure Paul and Pat won't mind picking us up if I call them-"
Tom shook his head slowly. "I don't want to leave here yet. I'm fine. Just give me a minute."
Tord stared at him for a long moment. "These nightmares of yours, what are they about?" He asked. He knew the gist of it, but perhaps talking about it now would relieve some stress. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
Tom glanced briefly up at him, then down at his hands. He shrugged. "Usually bad things that I've done while being a monster. I can't remember doing most of it. But when I sleep, that's when the memories come flooding back." He responded, his voice hollow. "I see them all the time. The people I killed – in my dreams, in the faces of strangers and wondering if they're the next to go, everywhere. I- I keep seeing my claws tearing into them. The taste of their blood on my tongue. I see all the people I've hurt. And you know what the worst part is? Some small part of me takes enjoyment out of this. The power that I have thrills me, no matter how awful I am. How messed up is that?"
"But the fact that you feel awful about this to begin with proves that you're not really a monster." Tord said, shuffling closer. "You care about the things you do and how you affect others, and you recognize that this pseudo-satisfaction that you might feel at times is wrong. That alone shows me that you're not the horrible person you make yourself out to be."
Tom took a deep breath and looked back into his gaze. "That doesn't erase all the awful stuff I am responsible for."
Tord winced. He longed for a way to persuade his dearest friend that none of the monster's actions in the past were his fault, but he knew he would be wasting his breath. Haunted by nightmares, Tom would not be comforted with words alone now. But what more can Tord do to help?
Then an idea slipped into his mind.
He rolled his shoulders to release the tension in them. It's been quite a long while since the last time he willingly did this. He'd always been conscious of keeping a good and strong facade in front of everyone; to show he was proud despite bearing what many believe is his one major weakness. But with Tom this is different. There's no need to be powerful and unbeatable around him all the time, despite what his Red Leader persona might say otherwise. He can relax and display some vulnerability with him from time to time. Maybe this is just what Tom needs to get over his terrible dream.
Breathing out a soft and determined sigh, Tord flicked the switch on his robotic arm to maintenance mode.
He watched his arm go limp by his side.
"What are you…?" Tom whispered, observing his movements wearily. With his enhanced hearing he could hear Tord's heart pick up speed.
Pulling back the sleeve of his shirt, Tord unclasped the latches of his arm connecting to his skin; one by one. Eventually the robotic arm clattered to the floor lifelessly, and Tord was left with just one arm.
Tom gulped. "Does it hurt?" He eyed the stump of his severed arm.
"At times. It used to hurt a lot more in the beginning, but I've gotten mostly used to it by now." Tord responded, removing his eyepatch next and fixing his stare on Tom. "C'mere." He held his arm out for him.
Hesitating briefly at first, Tom made his way over to him. Once he was close enough, Tord wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled him even closer until their chests were pressed flush against each other. Tom's breath hitched in his throat.
"Relax." Tord murmured, nuzzling into his hair with a soft sigh.
Tom leaned against him, resting his hands slightly on his shoulders. He wasn't used to receiving affection and frankly it was taking everything in him to not straight up melt under Tord's ministrations.
Next thing he knows Tord is slowly leaning backwards, arm still securely wrapped around Tom and bringing him along as he lies down with him on top. Tom blushed. He could feel Tord's chest rise and fall steadily as he breathed.
"I'm right here for you, Tom." They touched foreheads, noses brushing as they closed their eyes and cuddled.
Despite missing the Dreamcatcher, Tom had absolutely no problem falling asleep again after that. He can definitely grow used to this.
