Red Smiler

Ch6 ~ A Present Mother Is What a Child Needs

People were walking around with masks covering their entire heads; some of the masks had wide smiles, while others had frowns or other expressions. People were typing on computers, while others were designing guns and other devices. A tall teenager entered the building through double doors without wearing a mask. When everyone saw him, they saluted him and returned to their work. The teenage boy wandered around, making sure everyone was doing their jobs, before approaching someone his age who was wearing a white mask with a frown on it. The individual looked over at him, and the black eyes on the mask expanded slightly as he stared over at the boy. He didn't salute him; instead, he removed his mask and asked, "Tord? What exactly are you doing here?"

The Norsk fixed his gaze on his friend Paul. Tord and Paul have known each other since they were children. The two are close and see each other as brothers. Paul is much older and a little taller than Tord; he is nineteen years old, while Tord is seventeen and will turn eighteen this month.

They have ups and downs, but they will apologise and make amends for what they have done or said to each other. "I think I found it." That was all that Tord replied with as he grabbed his mask from a wall beside a desk and began walking away from his friend who works for him. The mask had a big smile on it, which differed from the expressions on the masks of the other people in the base. Everyone in the base has their distinctive mask that suits their personality, which makes it easier for everyone to recognise who is who when the mask is on.
Some people's masks are also a different shade than white. Only Tord had the right to don a white mask, allowing them to identify their Leader. The short answer given by his leader perplexed the tall, chubby young adult. He followed his leader as he furrowed his thick eyebrows. "Found what exactly?" Paul asked as he walked alongside Tord. This seemed to irritate the caramel-haired boy, who was considerably shorter than the other boy. As he proceeded to put on his mask, he looked up and whispered, "The Heliotrope Devil." His voice was a low, raspy whisper that only the two of them could hear what he had said.
The taller boy's eyes widened, and he came to a halt. When the Norwegian observed the other lad had stopped walking, he took a few more steps and stopped as well. He shifted his weight to face the tall Dutch boy. "You mean the one we've been looking for?" The taller boy exclaimed in disbelief.
Tord gave a nod.

"It's now possessing Thompson."

~~~

The phone alarm went off, startling Tom awake. He groaned loudly in annoyance and started looking for his phone which hid underneath his pillow, he found it then stopped the annoying ringtone and turned off the device. Once done, he let out a satisfied sigh and laid his head back on his pillow, closing his eyes. He was still exhausted from the training he had done with the Heliotrope Devil, his legs were sore and so were his arms. The knuckles on his right hand were bruised from punching the mysterious masked person he saw in the ruined library. "Kid, you've got to get up. Classes start in about an hour." The voice said as it tried controlling Tom's body to get him out of bed, but it was a bit difficult because of how exhausted the short British boy is so his body was a bit weak at the moment. "Mmhh... I'm tired." Tom mumbled as he let out another yawn. The voice chuckled slightly. "Tired? I'll give you tired. Get up, you dunce." As soon as the Heliotrope Devil spoke to Tom, he was able to seize control of the British boy's hand and force Tom to smack himself across the face. That jolted Tom awake; he sat up on his bed, eyes open, glaring across the dorm room at the wall. The voice was well aware that the glare was intended for it, but it disregarded it and forced Tom to get out of bed now that he was completely awake.

~~~

Tom had completed his morning routine and was dressed for class. He had music class first, which he enjoyed. He enjoys music and is getting better at playing the bass guitar. Because of what happened in the incident, the academy needed new instruments. The Brit was disappointed that his last bass was destroyed in the fire because he had spent all of his allowance on it. It was a simple white and blue colour, but it was his first bass guitar, so, of course, he would be upset about losing it. He didn't want to have to use the academy's bass because it would limit his access to it.