I Fell and You Pushed Me [TomTord]

Two leaders, one army

Tord woke up with a monstrous headache stabbing the side of his temple. Blinding lights burnt his eyes and loud noises flooded his ears. His mind was too fuzzy to concentrate on anything so he lay on his back as the world moved around him. It felt as if he was paused while everyone else was in fast forward. He went to speak but all that came out where distorted whimpers. Confused, Tord attempted to sit up, only to find himself locked to a table. He was about to close his useless eyes once again but he picked up something that snapped him back into reality.
"Red Leader's woken up." A quick voice yelled across the buzzing room.
"Go fetch Blue." Another responded.

"Red? Are you alright?" This time the voice was much softer and right next to him. He turned, sleepily, to his left. "W-What happened?" He mumbled, weak from confusion.
"Blue Leader found you and brought you back here."
"The medical ward..?"
"Yes, he saw that your arm was damaged and dysfunctional so he got it.... fixed."
"Fixed? How?" He attempted to look at it.
"He had it," there was obvious hesitation in her voice. "Replaced."
"R-Replaced?"
"Yes, look." She lifted the the sheets to show a red robotic prosthetic.
"This looks like-"
"Your robot, yes."
"Why would he-"
"He wouldn't tell us why he was so set on getting you healed. He just was." The soldier interrupted again.

Their conversation was cut short by the sound of a door slamming shut. All the soldiers stood up and saluted as their leader walked over to Tord's bedside.
"As you where, everyone." He commanded before addressing the patient.
"Larrs." He scowled down at him.
"Thompson."
"Look," he bent down to his level and lowered his voice so it was only heard by him. "I'm not playing your games, what are you trying to do?"
"I don't-"
"Don't play dumb, a week of hiding then suddenly you're in front of a camera?" He growled, wanting an explanation.
"Maybe I just wanted back inside my base." A smirk hinted on Red Leaders face.
"Your- Your base..? News flash Tord, this isn't your base anymore!" Tom clenched his fists, his age old enemy already infuriating him.
"Oh really? Then why is the Red Army symbol still on the equipment?"
"Because fuck you, that's why!" He yelled, grabbing his collar, causing Tord to flinch. "Amy, take this prick to cell four, and get Pat to bring me prisoner six." He commanded, walking to his office.

Tord had been put in restraints, his wrists chained together, as well as his ankles. A shock collar wrapped around his neck as a sour expression painted his face.
Pat had moments ago walked past him, paying no attention to the new prisoner and collecting, what he assumed to be, prisoner six.
"D-Dad..?" He muttered, looking hopefully at him, but Pat kept walking, taking the prisoner upstairs.

Tom waited patiently, tapping his fingers on the loaded gun that lay on his desk. Pat walked in with with the prisoner, obvious dread painted across his face. Once the soldier saw the gun, he immediately left.
"Thank you Pat." He yelled through the closed door before standing up and walking over to the trebling man.

"Prisoner Six, Leon Sevens, yellow army soldier. Joined the Red army five years ago in an attempt to gather information for your own leader. The yellow leader. However Tord Lars found your radio conversations and locked you up." He recited Leon's file, grinning and circling him.
"Y-Yes, Sir." He gulped as the click of the gun safety echoed in the room.
"So, Leon, what do you have to say for yourself?"
"What is there to say? I'm a yellow soldier until I die!"
"Well then, I respect your decision." He chuckled, raising the dark grey barrel.
"W-What is that..?"
"Oh, this is an old Molon Labe 1911 pistol, rubber grip, Stalin Aluminium one barrel." He smiled. "Don't suppose you've seen one of these before."
"N-No, Sir."
"Anything else you haven't seen?" He pressed it harder against his temple.
"A lot"
"Such a shame," he chucked, adding pressure to the trigger. "Go to hell and tell Satin I'm not that far behind." He whispered, pulling the grey metal, causing an deafening bang to fill the halls.

"Now I have another mess to clean." He snarled at the body on the floor. Blood leaking from the hole in his skull. "Pity you didn't beg for your life, that's would of made this much more satisfying. However you didn't die in vain." He grinned, bending down. His boots making prints in the crimson liquid covering the floor. "Tell Jon I say hi."

Tord jumped in his chains at the noise, immediately knowing what it was. "Tom, what have I done to you..." he muttered into the darkness as he waited for the prisoner to come back down, knowing that he was well and truly dead.