Hey, one arm boy.. (TordMatt)

after the war..

With his hands behind his back, the Red Leader looked out his window at the night sky, eye narrowed and cold. Yet.. if you looked into this dead man's eye, you could see constant regrets and sorrow flashing in his eyes. It was actually a terrible sight. He sighs, letting his arms swing to his side, only to hear a soft clank making him look down at the mess. His robotic arm hung limpyly by his side, the blue orb on the middle of his palm blinking mockingly. It.. make him tired. Tired and sad, and bitter. It make him feel.. "Bitter" the word escaped his mouth in a soft, and shaky fashion. He hated this, yea. He hated that he was stupid enough to do the things he did. He didn't just put himself in danger, but also so many others..
He shook himself from his thoughts as a metallic taste filled his mouth. He.. hadn't realized the ruined part of his face had ripped a bit in the corner, reopening the wound. Not to add, he had been slightly biting his lip earlier, and speaking must have opened the small cut. There was a static distorted sound, making him look back down at the arm, as it blinked. Perfect.. he waited silently, until the light blanked out. "Perfect.. it's off.." he had been standing in his office with the lights off for days, only sleeping mildly, as he waited for the arm to turn off. It was only supposed to turn off after a couple of days so it could charge. But he needed it off.. yea, he could have asked one of his prized scientists yo turn it off, but that might be.. weird.
"Stop thinking. Thinking wastes time, and dawn will rise soon, and this will charge soon as well.." and with that, tord pulled his sleeve up, pressed a few buttons, and watched as the arm fell to the floor with a soft clank. If it didn't have such a loud annoying alarm installed, he would have taken it off earlier. But.. of course, not long after returning to the base, and getting his arm amputated and replaced with that, had he kept trying to take it off. That's why they added the alarm. He needed it, that said. It's for good they say.. but it was all a lie. It was always a lie, but now.. now he can go. It's not like he hated his army, his base, everything he lived for for years, but.. it killed him more then that harpoon. It made him unhappy, upset, he just needed away! And that's why he's finally getting out..

He turned, and left his room, leaving the blinking atm on the floor. He walked down the halls, listening as the army slept. He skirted down the halls, and to a back exit, but stopped seeing the guards. Why did they have so many guards? Well, who needs them? he pulled out a gun, and shot them both. The sound caused an alarm to go off, causing him to curse under his breath, and leave the hall, running out into the cold chilly night, heading for a bike. A motorcycle. Technically, in his book, he only needs one arm for this, and with that, he kept onto his bike, and pulled on his fur coated hood. He looked down at his ruined red hoodie tied around his waist. Poor hoodie. And with the sound of hundreds of approaching guards, he took off, zooming into the night. He was free, heading back to his home, heading back to London.. that's where this mess started, after all..