Gone forever?
On Thursday evening Jarvis told Romanov that he had been able to trace the signal to Detroit. Romanov asked Jarvis to locate and place on the map where the bodies of previous victims had been found. 23 red dots appeared on the map. They were all scattered around the east-part of the city, unidentified bodies, killed in different ways but all linked by the way the face and the fingertips had been destroyed. There had been a police investigation, sure and some arrests done, but since the victims were homeless people, no one really cared that much and there had not been enough evidence about the motives or anything else either.
- Why didn't she tell us about this! Romanov muttered.
- Well... she kept reporting to her ex-boss who seems to be connected to the case. Rogers said. He was flying to Detroit with Barton.
Friday morning.
- Send me the list of all old slaughterhouses and other similar buildings. Rogers said to Romanov who sent a list as soon as she had managed to make it. The city of Detroit was filled with abandoned places, you could had been anywhere. The time slipped away. It was afternoon and Rogers had gone through only about one third of the places on the list.
Evening, time was running out. Romanov clicked a new link that had appeared to the front page. A popup window opened and this time the resolution of the video feed was better. There was also a chat box. First there were no users online but then as the clock approached 9 pm people started to log in. Romanov clicked a link called "Rules" that was next to the link called "the Chair".
"The Rules: You may purchase turns. The price of a turn increases. Payments in Bitcoins only." After that she clicked the other link.
"The Chair: This is the chair. Our star will be tied from her legs and arms. There will be a leather belt on her throat and as we turn the wheel, it will tighten the belt until it will either crush her trachea or suffocate her."
There was a lively chatter going on at the chat box. Some people had clearly talked with each other before. Romanov called Rogers.
- Any luck? she asked.
- No... not yet...
- We're running out of time, Cap. she said.
You had been taken away from the white room and your clothes had been stripped away, leaving you in your underwear. It was cold and the room that you were currently in was completely dark and humid. Almost like a basement. Then there were two men in white disposable overalls who came to drag you away. You tried to fight back but it was impossible to resist them. They were wearing gas-masks and it was impossible to recognize anything about them; age or race.
They dragged you into the white room where was a big rusty chair now. You were forced to sit down and your ankles and wrists were tied against the chair. Then one of the men held your head in place as the other fastened the leather belt-kind-of-thing on your throat. You turned your head to see when he was connecting it to a wheel. You screamed for help when you noticed the camera. The camera feed had been previously a security-cam-type of camera but now they had a camera standing on a tripod in front of the chair, just 2 meters away.
- Cap, are you seeing this? Romanov asked.
- Yes. he answered and tried to cover the amount of terror he had at the moment.
There were some rude comments about you on the chat. The people were disappointed that mutilation had not won. They were asking for a little bit of blood but the one who had spent 3 Bitcoins for the option of suffocation was saying that he did not want to see a drop of blood on that fine skin. Rogers felt sick. It was 9 pm.
First couple of spins cost only 0,5 Bitcoins but as the belt got tighter the price increased up to 100 Bitcoins which meant about 40 000 US dollars per a turn.
You felt the leather on your throat getting tighter and tighter. It always took some time that the payments got verified before the man in the overall walked calmly to the wheel and turned it. It was getting increasingly harder to breathe but you tried to buy yourself more time by staying calm and not screaming which caused chatter among the audience. "This is boring! Slice her!" someone commented but the one who was paying for the fun was telling them constantly "NO!"
Rogers and Barton were at the end of their list. They were pretty sure that the building was a right one this time because there were armed gang members standing at the door. It was easy to get rid of them. They went in the building that was dirty and very dimly lit.
The wheel turned again and now it was impossible to breathe. You held your breath and fought the urge of gasping until you could not fight it anymore. You were twitching uncontrollably, squeezing your hands into fists and then grabbing the arms of the chair.
Then you went unconscious. You stopped moving, your hands, arms and legs relaxed and your head dropped forward. A minute went by and the people were mocking the payer that he was probably jerking himself off. After another minute the payer logged off and so did the other ones too. There was a text on the screen saying
"Thank you for your participation. See you next month."
The video feed was cut and Romanov found herself staring at a black screen.
Rogers kicked the door open and threw his shield at the man who was putting the camera away. The other man surprised Barton from behind but he managed to secure the situation as Rogers ran to you and cut the belt off. There was a nasty bruise on your neck and as he released your arms, you collapsed forward. He released your feet and then lifted you up and lowered you on the floor. He started to perform CPR. It had been almost five minutes since you had gone unconscious. He blew air into your lungs and prayed that you would start breathing.
You did not.
You were taken back to New York and to the Avengers tower. Your body was cold and it looked dead. Thor had come to a visit. When he saw you, he was shocked and suggested that he would take you to Asgard. Maybe his father, Odin, was able to do something to reverse it.
Saturday morning. Rogers had not been sleeping for 5 days. He went to his apartment, took a shower and went to bed. He slept whole day and woke up in the middle of the night when he heard you calling him. He got off the bed and walked to his study where he had his computer. The room was illuminated by the pale light coming from the screen. He walked to see and saw you on the screen. You were looking down with a sad expression on your face.
- (Y/N)? he exclaimed. You raised your head and looked straight into his eyes.
- Steve.
- What is this... How?
- Some people think that a photo captures a part of your soul... and some people cover the mirrors when a person dies so the soul does not get trapped into them...
- (Y/N)... I am so sorry I could not save you. he said and touched the screen, your cheek. You closed your eyes just like you could feel his touch.
- It's not your fault. I should go...
- No... stay with me!
- It is so dark, cold and lonely here. If I don't go now... I will be trapped forever. you said and closed your eyes as you started to fade away.
- No... Don't you leave me! he shouted and stared at the back screen. The room was now dark. He had not cried before because he had been certain that there was a way to save you, Thor had taken you to Asgard after all, but seeing you disappearing from the screen really destroyed the last bits of hope he had had. He felt his heart breaking and he burst into tears.