Freed

Chapter 7: Dimitry Taking Charge

He sighs lightly to himself, looking down at the ground with arms crossed over his chest. HIs blond hair ruffled up in a large mess.

"Right," he mutters. "Okay then, I'm the captain." He says turning around and staring at the whitedesk in front of him. Scattered papers lay everywhere. On the table, on the floor, some stuck at the back of the desk and chair, hung on the board.

The blond starts to wonder whatever he could do. He was no Mr. Andrews. He didn't know how to rule over such a large army, he didn't know how to organize such a mess his father had create and most importantly, he didn't know how to defea this granndfaher.

Dimitry smashes his palm on the white plastic chair, watching as the papers flew away and one of the table's legs made a snapping sound. He sighed to himself. The blond teen didn't want to lead anything. Was it so hard to ask for a nomral life? He guessed so.

He remembred watching boys back in the day. He saw them playing basketball and baseball, laughing, going to school and all that jazz. While he learned how to hold a gun and murder another person in sixteen different ways with his bare hands. He frowns, noticing how different his life had become.

Dimitry runs a hand through his hair, messing it up in frustration. He never really did cope well with stress. He let Diamond handle all the commanding for him, only commanding he ever did was commanding for his next meal or simply bossing his sister around.

"Why me!" He yells, looking at the door, then back at the desk. His arm was still of no use. He couldn't hit hard, he couldn't aim well and it simply made everything worse. His eyes land on thte desk. Perhaps he really can help.

With a huff, he makes his way towards the table, hunching over it. The lights flicker above him, warning him that the bulb was blowing a fuse.

And flash goes the light. He rolls his eyes. "Well there goes my light!" He yells, placing one hand on the table. His hand creeps around, feeling for a familiar plastic button. Clicking it, it opens a lamp, showing light right in front of his face.

Dimitry closes his eyes, hands going to his face, blocking the bright light away. He redirects it, making it face the table.

"Off to work then," he mutters, clasping his hands together. Dimitry grabs the chair, dragging to towards me, sitting down and cracking his knuckles.

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White walks through the hall with her hands buried deep into her pocket, a smug smile on her lips. She had many things to do today. She has to train with Troy, arrange some things here and there. But the thing that excited her the most was the new order Dimitry placed upon her shoulders.

She was in charge of the experiments army.

Only a few minutes after the blond teen accepted his duty, she was called in and received her own.

White squeals in delight, grinning from ear to ear as she increased her pace, reaching her dorm much faster than expected.

Mr. Andrews eventually moved into some other room she didn't know of, but that didn't matter now. She had plans, she had people to boss around. She had power. Twisting the knob, the brunette brusts through the room with a bright smile.

"Hello world!" He exclaims, spreading her arms wide.

Angel parts her glance from the television and looks at White with a weird face.

"Erm, are you okay White?" She asks, closing the television and locking eyes with her friend.

"No, nothing!" She says, walking over to her bed and falling right on top of it.

Diamond was still busy tending to her father, now passed out of exhasution. White pitied the man, this job wasn't something he needed in life! A man his age would be working normally, maybe in some high rise business. Yet Mr. Andrews chose a different path.

She shrugs to herself, placing her hands under her head as she stares up at the ceiling.

"Whatever you say White," she mumbles, going back to her TV.

But before White could drift off to her dreamless sleep, the door flies open revealing Ice. His ears are tinged red, scowling.

"Who appointed the douche bag to replace Andrews?" He demands.

White pushes herself up with one arm, smiling brightly. "Er, me?"

He rolls his eyes. "You gotta be kidding me!"

She smirks at him, glancing at Angel. The young girl nods, knowing that White is telling the truth. Ice growls, clenching his teeth and fists. He didn't like the fact that Dimitry was leading the whole army. Many things could go wrong. The teen could screw up at any moment.

"He ain't that bad of a leader ya know," she mutters, looking down at her hands.

Ice scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest as he rolls his eyes. "Oh really! He gave me a stupid role! All I do is stay here in the base while you all charge off to the battel field." He pauses for a moment. "How am I gonna be able to help that way?"

White raises an eyebrow at him. "Well, we do need some muscle here ya know, what happens if we get attacked here?" She says with a wink, standing up and walking over to the brunette, looping an arm around his. "Cheer up! His job ain't easy," she galnces at the door for a moment. "What would you do if you were in his place?"

Ice laughed heartily at this question. "Me? Hmm, I'd first make sure that the blondie has no say in the operation or well . . . does anything at all really,"

White slaps him gently at the shoulder. "Why are you being so cold to him?" She asks. 

"Personal reasons," he grumbles out before storming out of the room.

She watches him go and slam the door in front of her. White didn't know what was happening to her best friend anymore, as the days pass by all that comes forth is a much more different person than the one she grew up with back in teh Compound.

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FINALLY! An update!