Being Dylan O'Brien's Bodyguard (BDBB)

BDBB ☆Chapter Four☆ BDBB

Chapter Four: Go away

You really don't have to think about your next opinion. It will come to you because that's how you were programmed; to think without thinking about it. But this particular situation was coming in really quick and you feel something wearing you down, something you haven't felt before since you were made. You don't like the feeling at all and with Vince's grip around your neck, it was even harder to barge it away.

You don't want to hurt Vince but in order to fix yourself, you need space. You need him away from you. You need air that was being prohibited from you.

It was time to get him away from you.

Go away.

You lowered your hands to your side, letting Vince think you were giving into him. The hold he has on your neck doesn't loosen up but the low whisper he chants plugs your eardrums and you feel like blood is rushing to your brain as if you were upside down but you tense the muscles in your face like a sponge. Now as Vince let his guard down, you know this because he takes away one hand from your neck to reach into a pouch to receive a tranquilizer to knock you out. You let him go far to pulling the cap off with his teeth when you make your move.

It takes about ten second to fling your arm into the air only to crashdown at Vince's forearm extended out to pin you against the wall. The impact brought out a grunt from the both of you. Next, you head butt him which has him stumbling back then panting and taking in the air, you whisper, "I'm sorry, Vince." in an apologize voice before swirling on your tipy toe to bash your other foot into his head, bring him down on the ground, in shock, in pain, in defeat.

You watch him fumble on the floor and it hops flashes of your previous project into your mind, like a movie rewinding back to the scene. You catch your breath but you don't have time to feel for him. You need to know what your next move is but before you can even try to consider one, you were backing away from the men on the ground, watching them closely that you don't sense body heat coming up behind you.

A hand cups over your mouth. You don't have time to even make a sound of surprise. Your head gets twisted to one side and you feel a poke in your neck following a rush of cool sensation you were interjected with a stain steel cylinder syringe. This, you know, you can't fight. You can't even try. Your body falls limp into the arms of Silas Hohms.

As your eye lids fall close, you peer up into his face. He is already looking down at you. Just as you feel yourself shutting down, you forcely scan his eyes. You fail to get a read on him. You let yourself go dark.

Silas Hohms personally lifts you up into both his arms bridal style as he looks at his men on the ground. He's not upset at them fore they didn't want to make a scene but they could have done better. He doesn't spend millions of money on things you could not control for better or worse.

Vince recovered and saw you hanging in his boss' arms. The bob in his throat isn't seen behind the black turtle neck and the sweat coating his palms were sticking to the leather of his gloves. Darren and Harris plus the other units recovered soon after. Silas Hohm's hadn't waited for him. He was gone already back to the lab.

Vince, later was standing at his locker located somewhere in the skyscraper building. He was surrounded by stainless steel walls, lockers and any appliances around him. The whole building's interior was constructed with stainless steel if when you got to a certain limit of it.

He discards from the armor, unstraps the velcro of the bulletproof vest and was sighing in relief as he pulls it over his head. As big as Vince was at six-seven, almost four fifteen in muscle weight, he feels like he can breath now that he's out of the black titanium plated armor suit jacket. It was 7lbs and feels like hugging him but the suffocation of it is what he wasn't used to even wearing it for the years he worked for Silas Hohms.

He pulls the black beanie off his head where a redwood colored ponytail comes dangling down between his shoulders and a thick strand of hair dropping down in front of his left eye. At the start of working for Hohms, it was required in the physical exam to have short hair but Vince quietly and respectfully argued his way out of having it cut. He considers his hair a lucky charm.

He replaces the armor back on a hanger and hooks it into the locker. He discards himself of weapons not necessary to walk around the range where he was stationed. He folded the beanie in half, placed it inside. He strips the gloves off, throws them over his broad shoulder where he knows they will land perfectly into the trash bin where it's located. Later, the janitor will come and dispose whatever was tossed inside into the furnace.

Finishing with other men inside taking care of themselves as he done or just taking their time on the benches, Vince exits the locker room with whatever he did not take off. Black army boots, black cargo pants with attachments for accessory weapons like knives, gun clips and whatever else you have packed with you, black padded vest over his black shirt and black spandex sleeves to cover his forearm tattoos. He made his way through many corridors, left turns, right turns, stairs, elevators, security clearance doors, gates either placing his multi-color blue, green and brown iris, thumb print or sliding/flashing his key card to/through a scanner.

He arrives where he wants to be after a slide of the key card and a twist of a lever lock. Inside this department was the medical infirmary lab. Nodding at the security guard positioned beside the door, he ignores everything else. He takes a stroll between the beds and stations on each side of him, not paying no attention to the subjects on them or what was being done around him. He goes through clearance at the end of the room and stands at a gate but it was already opening as he walks through it because he had his key card ready to be scanned. It beeps and buzzes.

He quietly takes stand next to the director, his boss, the CEO, everything that takes part owning a millions of dollars worth building. He looks down through the thick glass window. There you are. Under the light. Getting mechanicalized on. Something that was for the best of you even though you just wanted Vince and the others to just go away. Hohms wasn't convinced you could handle herself. Vince had his doubts but it still was terrible thing to see you go under in such circumstances.

"Set?" Hohm's voice comes stoning out with no tone in it. Imagine a dark room talking. You won't be able to see it.

Vnce nodded once, affirming to what was set up. "What's getting done?"

"Modifications," the director answers smoothly. "D034 is getting jumped for another client."

Vince doesn't move a muscle in his body as he stares down at the techno-surgeons in turquoise scrubs and sanitized linen working on you. The strand over his eye was dead still. Going out again, he thought to himself. So soon?

"Client?"

"My office." And Silas Hohms goes away.