Chapter Text
Ugh…” tord groaned as the dingy grey bus slowed to a stop. He didn't want to be here, no one would. Unfortunately, no other school would take him; due to his lengthy history of petty fist fights and getting caught with cheap cigarettes, among other things. The other kids in the bus looked how you would expect them to look, and they acted like it too, at least three fights had to be broken up on the way to this god forsaken school, a couple kids had pocket knifes, others had makeshift pieces of scrap metal torn from the already falling apart bus. The worst part, in tords opinion, was how loud everyone was, voices overlapped each other like a chorus of disgruntled pigs fighting over a piece of meat. In short, Tord was miserable.
The Piercingly loud sound of a whistle rang through the bus, and the doors slowly slid open with a squeak. Kids in front of him slowly shuffled out with whatever little luggage they brought. Tord gripped his Backpack, just like everyone else, he didn't bring much, just a hoodie and a few pictures kept safe in a laminated cover, because apparently there was a problem with kids using picture frames as make-shift weapons . He also brought a small brown teddy bear with a single tine for an eye and three little spikes at the top of its head. In hindsight, it mind have been a bad idea to bring this thing along, the people here would probably hold it against him, but the scrapy old bear brought him comfort.
When the space in front of him finally cleared out a little he stood up and made his way off of the small bus, stepping into patchy grass. The air here was groggy, and nothing could be seen for miles in any direction, no plants or buildings, just one long winding round that disappeared into the horizon. Tord managed to get a good look at the outside of the school while some man in a way too professional uniform called roll-call. The school was made from an old manor house, with about four stories. Every window in sight had bars, the doors where metallic and locked up, both outside and in if Tord had to guess.
Finally, the group was led into the house through large reinforced double doors. Tord had no idea what was happening, or where he and everyone was going, he could barely hear the instructors barking orders at everyone, so he just followed the direction of the crowd. Which eventually led into an area with couches and book-shelfs on the first floor. There was a crowd of thirty or so kids, and maybe five actual adults, all of which stood tall and muscular, in matching dark navy blue uniforms. The sound of the piercing whistle returned, bringing all chatter to an abrupt pause.
A loud booming voice called out from the front of the room. It was coming from a woman who stood tall with neatly cut, black hair.
“ Every one of you is here because you have a history of violence, drugs, or non-conformity to the rules that are put in place to keep us safe from people like you. So from now on, you will be kept here, at the Oakridge boarding school for young men, you will sleep, eat, learn and live in this building for the next year. Any luggage you have brought with you will be inspected, and then you will be assigned a dorm, everything you need will be in your rooms from then on. You are not permitted to leave your dorm until five thirty PM, at which time a bell will ring. You will be given the rest of the rules at dinner.” Promptly, the woman snapped her fingers, and several of the large men began into the small croud, inspecting whatever luggage the kids had on them.
A tall man with a shaved head held his hand out to tord, expectantly. “uhmm.. - oh! Here” he quipped, realising the man wanted his bag. Tord Handed over the Faded crimson backpack, the man riffled through his belongings, grunted, and gave Tord back his bag along with a small slip of paper.
The Paper simply said “207” that was his dorm, he assumed.
He turned around “sir? Where is this?” he held up the piece of paper, but he had already disappeared into the crowd. He didn't seem like the talking type anyways..
He opted to follow a small stream of kids walking up a wooden flight of stairs, as they ascended, the noisy chaos from the lower floor faded into light chatter, when they reached the top floor of the manor.
At first it seemed rather pleasant, Until he actually started listening to the babble. It ranged anywhere from risky bets to death threats.
He prayed that he would end up with a good roommate, because it was becoming more and more evident that Tord was a little out of place in this teenage prison camp.
‘203.., 204, 206… 207!’ he gripped the cold metal handle of the tall wooden door, he sighed, a little nervous, but even more curious. So, slowly, he turned the handle, the door creaked and he pushed it open…
Immediately, he was met with a rude British voice, “out” it stated firmly, not bothering to even look up at his new roommate, he was a skinny pale looking figure with… abnormal? Hair, how does someone even pull of that kind of gravity defying hair? A plain grey t-sirt hung loosely on his frame, his face was buried in a lengthy looking novel .
“Excuse me?” Tord tilted his head, wondering if he misheard the brit.
“Get out, the door is right behind you” the boy gestured behind Tord.
Tord furrowed his brows, confused, nonetheless he tried to explain himself to the brit. “But this is my dorm? I'm your roommate”
There was a pause, a short silence as the boy sat in quiet contemplation.
“Let me see your room pass” he stated, his rude tone fading into something a little more surprised and curious, it was hard to tell though, his expression was still masked by the book.
“My what?” Tord asked, unsure what exactly the boy wanted.
The boy sighed, annoyed, he slowly explained “ when you got here, they gave you a piece of paper with your dorm number on it, let me see it” he held out his hand.
“Oh that” he looked at the slip the man gave him earlier, did they just assign him a room at random? That seems like a bad idea. “Here” he handed the boy the small slip of paper.
He pulled away from his book, ever so slightly, studying the paper. Why was it so hard for this kid to believe that tord was his roommate? Everyone else had roomates!
“Dammit” the boy mumbled to himself.
Finally, he looked up from his book, immediately catching tord off-guard.
“Oh god..” he backed away from the brit
“God-dammit-” the boy grunted, quickly covering his eyes with his forearm.
Tord wasn't sure what to think, he had never seen eyes quite like that, completely black, like two parallel voids, a swirling abyss with no end.
They were an enigma.
Unsure how to proceed, tord tried his best to muster half a smile. “Im tord”
hesitantly , the britt removed his arm, he still refused to look at tord, he looked somewhat embarrassed.
“Tom”