Disclaimer: This is one of the two endings you can choose for this story. Or you can read both, I won't judge. I couldn't decide how I wanted to end it so here we are.

This is the dark ending.

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It was a chilly autumn evening, dimly colored leaves falling from their trees and covering the damp grass. They crunched under Tord's boots as he walked across the field, surveying the damage.

Yet another opposing army had been left in ruin. Their base was blown up, debris and dust being the only thing that was left in its wake. Bodies surrounded the mess. Some had survived the explosion and rushed to defend what was left of their army.

Tord had killed them. Every last one of them. He was covered in their blood, yet he didn't seem to mind. He strolled around so casually, completely unbothered by the destruction that he'd caused. He was the most dangerous man in the world for a reason, y'know.

The scent of fresh blood stung his nose. He looked down, noticing the leaves that surrounded the body of an unknown soldier. They were all drenched in a thin coat of crimson. Except for one.

Tord bent down, picking up a leaf that piqued his interest. A maple leaf, he recalled. It was colored in a shade of bright red, and fragile as could be. One wrong move and he could easily tear it to pieces. He examined it carefully, then slipped the leaf into his pocket.

Nobody questioned him. If they did, they'd be greeted with some nasty bullet wounds.

He straightened himself up again and made his way into one of the planes he had come here on. A few other soldiers followed behind him, and soon enough they were headed back to the Red Army base.

The plane ride was short and sweet, Tord spending his time examining the leaf he'd picked up. It was pretty and frail, just like someone he knew.

He smiled at the thought. All the soldiers that were around him knew to leave him alone when he was like this. There was no telling what he would do.

The plane soon landed, and he took his leave. Chatting aimlessly with one of his generals, his head elsewhere. He couldn't stop thinking about that certain person. They always plagued his thoughts, though he didn't mind in the slightest.

He continued to smile at the ground. Blood dripped off him, a trial of the liquid behind him as he walked. He soon reached his living quarters, bidding his soldier farewell with a mild acknowledgement.

He didn't take notice of how they practically ran off, heaving out a relieved sigh. Tord was in a good mood. He hadn't felt the need to take anything out on his soldiers at the moment. It had become commonplace for him to do so, and nobody was ever there to stop him,

With slow and quiet movements, he creaked open his door. Everything was just how he had left it. The living room was dark, the only source of light being the setting sun that peeked in slightly through his closed blinds.

Tord hummed quietly to himself, a content smile growing on his lips as he slipped off his coat. He'd need to wash it, or else the blood would probably stain. He kicked off his combat boots and pushed them aside.

Finally, he would get to do what he had been waiting for all day. He was barely able to contain himself. He walked off to his bedroom, flicking on the hallway light.

A small, pale man was laying on the bed. His head was resting against soft pillows, the silky red sheets slipping off his body slightly.

"Thomas!" Tord exclaimed happily, immediately rushing over to his side. "Wake up, baby. I'm home." He cooed, wrapping his arms around Tom and hugging him tightly. He leaned down, pressing a light kiss on his plump lips.

Only Tom didn't respond, not even moving a muscle. You see, he couldn't. He had died about a month ago. The gunshot wound killed him, despite all the efforts of Tord's best doctors.

Tord, naturally, had snapped. Edd, Matt, Paul, and Pat were all dead. Along with any soldiers who had tried to get in his way. He was enraged. In his own twisted mind, they were all the causes of Tom's death. They had murdered him in cold blood. Tord was incapable of accepting that Tom had been the one to take his own life. He physically couldn't process it. That was the only thing that kept him from completely losing it.

After they were all dead, Tord went back to a normal state. Despite him being extremely unstable. The only difference was that his killing spree had stopped, for now at least. And while calming down, he had convinced himself that Tom was just sick.

That's why he kept his corpse. He told himself he was still alive, though his cold and limp body said otherwise. He would constantly care for him. Feeding him, bathing him, giving him medicine. He did everything he thought Tom needed.

He was like a child playing pretend. He couldn't handle the fact that Tom was gone. He made up his responses in his head, to the point where he wasn't even living in reality anymore. If anyone ever tried to tell him that Tom was dead, they'd soon share the same fate. So his soldiers had quickly learned to shut their mouths.

He'd even kept the others corpses, too. Occasionally when he was upset he'd visit the cell that he'd put them in just so he could torture their dead bodies. He preferred doing it when they were alive, though. Their screams and withers of pain satisfied him greatly. By now, he'd mutilated their bodies beyond recognition.

When Tom was still alive, Tord had begun the project of bringing those who were dead back to life. His scientists worked on it tirelessly, eventually getting very close to bringing someone back. And Tord's first order to them after everything had happened was to finish the technology so they could use it on Tom.

Now, though, Tord had pushed that out of his mind. He had yet again convinced himself that they were working on a device for Tom's 'treatment'. That's what the doctors were supposed to call it. The consequences for not doing so were both brutal and fatal. They only hoped they'd be able to finish it and bring Tom back before their leader went any farther with his antics. The very thought of him doing so was terrifying.

Tord had occupied himself with telling Tom all about his battle earlier. He had him in his lap, his fingers brushing gently through his hair like he knew he enjoyed.

"-I killed all of them just for you, kjære, We're so close to ruling the world together. Aren't you excited?" He questioned happily, kissing Tom's cheek. He paused for a moment. Acting like he was listening to Tom's response.

The lifeless male's mouth never moved. His visors displayed a black screen, not the usual digital eyes that were supposed to appear there. Still, Tord nodded. Practically beaming as he looked down at his lover. "I can't wait either." He chuckled, patting his head. His grey eyes suddenly lit up." Oh, I almost forgot! I brought you something."

Tord usually did this. He would bring back Tom gifts, often things like flowers or pretty looking pebbles. They were little things, but he thought Tom enjoyed it.

He pulled the maple leaf from before out of his pocket, making sure to be as careful as possible. He held it up for Tom to see, even though his head drooped over and it was obvious that he wouldn't be able to even if he was alive:

Tord took no notice of this. In his head, Tom was smiling and telling him how much he loved it. He was oh so happy. He lifted up his hand, then placed the leaf in his palm so he could hold it.

"You're welcome. I figured you would like it. I picked it up just for you."

He sighed happily, leaning down so he could bury his face in Tom's neck. His skin still smudged with blood after the events of that afternoon. He was exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to enjoy some quality time with the person he cared about most.

They sat in silence for a little while. And for a moment, Tord nearly came to his senses. A part of him knew that Tom was dead. No matter how much he tried to push the thought of it away, it would always come back in one way or another.

That was why he still had his scientists engineering the device. Before it had been just a general thing that Tord was interested in, but now all he wanted was Tom back. His real, raw reactions were what he craved. He missed the life on his face. All the little things that he never noticed, too. Like the slight freckles that dusted his nose and the area under his eyes, or the way his voice got ever so slightly high pitched when he was upset.

He was going mad without Tom. He would do anything for his 'illness' to be cured.

Eventually he got up. He lifted Tom up into his arms so he could carry him, ignoring the leaf fluttering out of his hand and onto the floor. then. He laughter. "Honey, chill. There's no need for you to walk on your own." He chirped.

It was like things had been before. Any previous notation of Tom's death was gone from his mind in an instant. All that existed was right here and right now.

"How do you feel about mac and cheese for dinner?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

There was more silence. The sound of Tom's voice filled his mind, and yet again he was smiling. "Good. I want to treat you. You've been so patient for me, so good." He praised, ruffling Tom's hair. "I'm sorry I've been having to leave so much lately. It'll only be liked that for a little while longer. I know how much you miss me when I'm gone."

He set Tom down on one of the chairs at the kitchen table, pressing one last kiss against his forehead. "Wait here. Dinner will be served soon." He chuckled and walked away, practically skipping into the kitchen.

He promised himself that nothing was ever going to tear them apart. They would be together forever, not even separating when death did them part. For once, he had Tom completely to himself. And he vowed to keep him here for the rest of their days, living out his sick fantasies and continuing Tom's endless torture.

How romantic.

-

that's it for now. i'll be posting the other ending in a few days, but i haven't updated in a while so i figured this would keep you guys satisfied while i finish it.

and don't worry. there will be plenty of books coming after this one is finished. >:)