Chained In Servility

10

TWs: Weapons (guns and bombs), minor gun violence, family issues/shitty father, misgendering, minor character death

Tord took a final glance around his room. The walls were bare, and the shelves were barren of books. His bed still had the covers, except for his weighted blanket, which he packed tightly in a box. His closet was also void of anything except for the cobwebs that always seemed to come back no matter how many considerable times he dusted them.

This was it. The final moments he had before he eventually got out of this hellscape.

Pau and Pat were checking that everything was loaded on the plane, making sure their escape route was clear on the way back.

Tord quickly checked his gun's ammo, which was an AKM. He then checked the clock on the wall.

Exactly 0100 hours. Pat and Pau should be here any second.

There was a soft knock on the door, prompting Tord to open it. Both of them were out of breath, yet unharmed.

"Are we ready?" Tord questioned.

"Yes. The Nightwatch soldiers seem to be heading southward." Pat said.

"Perfect, let's go." Tord took charge as the three soldiers walked quickly and quietly through the dark hallways.

They got to the archives without bumping into anyone, making Tord uneasy.

'Something's not right...' He thought as they walked into the room. Pau slid the shelves over, revealing the outline of the doorway. He pushed in the wall as he did before, and it opened with ease.

The trio trekked down the stairwell, Tord in front once more. As soon as they got to the bottom, Pat stepped in front of Tord to make sure it was clear.

He pushed the wall open and looked between the shelves on the other side. The bottom of the stairwell led into an old office that didn't seem like anyone has been in for a long time.

"Clear," Pat said. Pau nodded and moved the shelves over.

They kept going down the shady hallways once they got out of the office. Tord was tense the whole time, as they hadn't bumped into anyone.

Tord saw their destination, the one that led to the training fields.

Once they got to it, Tord was reluctant to open it, as if something was waiting on the other side.

The leader shook it off as his anxiety getting to him and pushed the door open.

As they got outside, though, Tord wished he listened to his anxiety.

"Hello, son." His father said. The Lieutenant General stood at his side along with other higher-ranked soldiers.

Tord clenched his fist around his gun, "How'd you find out?"

"It's rude to not greet your father, Tord." He said instead of answering.

"It's also rude to not answer a question," Tord growled.

"I have my sources." His father spoke vaguely, then he turned to scowl at Tord, "I don't understand why you're so adamant about leaving, this is your home, is it not?"

Tord rolled his eyes, "Really? You're giving me a lecture while your men are pointing their weapons at us? I don't think you know what a home is."

"I gave you everything you could ask for; what more do you want?"

"I told you what I want! All I've ever wanted is to be an inventor, to craft things, not just weapons, but other things as well."

"It's a pointless aspiration, Tord! You won't get anywhere with it." His father dictated.