Stockholm Syndrome
I leaned against the wall, staring forward blankly. Aggressive thoughts swirled around and I couldn’t get them to stop. Usually, by this time after a mission, I would be put back into cryo and I wouldn’t have these problems. They would put me in room seventeen and, afterwards, I would be bitterly cold and in a deep sleep until they wanted me for another mission or task.
But with not being in hydra and not having this routine, I had my own ideas and my own thoughts that wouldn’t shut the fuck up. I couldn’t get my mind quiet for the life of me, it seemed to never end. I was tempted to slam my head into the wall until I passed out or the wire in my brain that made these thoughts were broken.
I had been awake for who knows how long, there was no sense of time in here. Ever since I woke up that first time in this cell, I had stayed awake, choosing not to let myself become vulnerable again. In my boredom, I listened to every sound near me; any heartbeats, breathing, and voices that came through the vents, along with busying myself with trying to figure my captors out like a puzzle.
A while ago, one of the voices through the air ducts, quiet but determined, had spoken in strong dislike about the fact that ‘the girl’ wasn’t eating nor sleeping. A woman's voice had consoled him, telling him it would take time and to trust the process.
I guessed that ‘the girl’ they spoke about was myself since I hadn’t touched anything they had placed in my cell, even the reading material, but I couldn’t be sure.
Then later, there was another male voice, this one more fond and raspy, who had voiced his frustration about ‘the girl’s’ parents and that they would be worried.
I thought about that for a while afterwards, confused on the term and the emotion he spoke about it in.
There were other pointless conversations that I had overheard from time to time, but they helped me associate voices to names, and therefore, names to faces.
There was Natasha, otherwise known as Nat or Romanoff. Her strong voice was the one which consoled the quiet one. She had dark red hair that was chopped at her shoulders, usually in a curled style. Her eyes were dark green, like emeralds, and her skin was a pale white. She naturally wore a plain expression, seemingly trained to hide her thoughts and emotions. When she did show emotion, it was only to the raspy fond voice I had heard, or to me when she spoke about needing my help to take down hydra. But her emotion in her voice, to me, was a ploy to get me to fall for their trap, rather than the true, quiet tone she used with the male.
One thing that stuck with me about her was that her eyes showed familiarity to me, as if she recognized me. I thought about the fact that she seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t tell why.
Another person was Banner, also called Brucy, Bruce or Doctor. He was the quiet, strong voice that had voiced his strong frustration with my lack of trust, which Natasha had spoken to him about. He had short black hair that seemed to shine gray and was wavy against his head messily. His eyes were chocolate brown, almond shaped and emitting kindness from them. He had a rough stubble on his round jawline, and his skin was a light tan. His posture was more upright unless he looked at a screen, making him hunch forward, fixing his rectangle glasses on his face, and focus on the words.
He usually wore a white coat, which never settled right with me, but had a kind smile on his face when he spoke to me. He had asked me how my pelvis felt after a few days, but when I gave him no response he fidgeted anxiously and started talking about my ‘abilities’. He would voice questions aloud, paused to see if I would respond at all, then when I didn’t, he continued on theorizing.
The person I had seen the most was Tony, also called Stark, although he was usually named in an annoyed or frustrated tone. This was the man I had seen when I first woke up, known to have messy, black hair, a goatee, and usually covered in mystery oils or smears. His voice was snarky and overpowering, demanding attention at every moment he spoke. He spoke to me sometimes when he came in to deliver food and take away the old one, giving me snarky comments and side glances. Unlike Banner, he wouldn’t wait for the off-chance that I would reply, instead, he filled the void with his own voice as if we were having a full conversation.
He answered for me at moments and pretended I would make facial expressions and say stuff like “No, yeah, you’re right. That’s stupid.” As well as conferring with me about a woman named Pepper, which I could tell he cared plenty about and was frustrated with most times.
Whenever Tony was gone for long periods of time, another man took his place. Like Natasha, this man was vaguely familiar. But unlike the redhead, a pang of hurt shot through my chest and my heart throbbed when I saw him, causing my brain to run in circles with confusion. The man’s name was Steve, also called Rogers, Capsicle and Captain. He had short blonde hair, usually swept across or styled spikey. His eyes were a steel blue, very similar to my own, and his skin was pale. He sported a brown leather jacket with a colored t-shirt and jeans every time I had seen him, smelling like cleanliness and soap. He spoke from time-to-time, but mainly chose to keep to himself. But when he did talk to me, he would ask how I was feeling then move on to asking if I was ready to talk to them yet.
There were 4 other people I had yet to meet; Sam (AKA Wilson, birdbrains, and birdman), Clint (AKA Barton and Katniss), Thor (AKA Pointbreak), and Loki (AKA Reindeer Games). Sam’s voice had seemed oddly familiar, but the others had all been new to me. Loki’s voice had been the least known, he had been mentioned and talked too (heard through the vents), but he rarely replied and was, assumingly, barely around. Clint was similar to him in that way, silent but talked only to certain people and on certain occasions. But unlike Loki, he replied with snarky replies in a joking manner, as if he was comfortable with the people that lived here.
It took me a few days to collect their names and to make mental notes of what voices belonged to who and who talked the most and what about.
The lack of sleep was taking its toll on my body and mind. I grew dizzy from the lack of food that I fed my body and my eyelids felt like they were weighed down by the amount of thoughts that swirled around my head.
I sat on the ground next to where they opened up the cage to slide me food, a tray that was a few hours old sitting beside me. My whole body felt numb, tingling with the sensation of pins and needles from sitting still for so long. My back was leaned against the light blue, near transparent shield, head leaned back to gaze at the ceiling.
The Winter Soldier flashed in my mind, with his shoulder length brown hair and his striking gray eyes. I had images of him flashing through my mind, most of them contained his cold, distant stares and a gun in his hand. My gut pulled painfully every time I thought about him, the same dizzying feeling taking over my brain that happened whenever I saw Rogers.
I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath then letting it out slowly, a deep ache racking my pelvis. The sharp pain had been replaced with the ache fairly quickly, my powers coming back at full strength and a snake-like shadow gripping around my pelvis, binding it together as it healed.
My eyes squeezed together tighter and my muscles tensed as the door of the room slid open. Quiet footsteps echoed into the room behind me as the person entered the room, quiet puffs of even breathing.
“I think the bed would be more comfortable, especially for your…injury, ” Steve’s voice rang out.
I opened my eyes and tilted my head downwards, watching his shadow move on the wall that was across from me. He stood with his hands stuffed into his pockets, posture straight and confident.
He stood, statue still, before moving closer to me, the shadow on the wall growing larger. I watched uneasily, tensing as I felt the sensation of the shield opening slightly beside me. The tray beside me slid away and another tray replaced it. I glanced at the tray as the hand that had replaced it pulled away and the shield closed again; on the tray, there was something like mashed potatoes and gravy on top with a meatloaf and a roll next to it. A paper spork was placed on the side, in place of a plastic or metal one. A tall cup of water sat next to the tray, cold but no ice cubes in the water.
I looked away, back to his shadow that moved to set the old tray down on the table next to him. A deep sigh escaped his lips, his shoulders hunching forward slightly.
He turned and leaned against the table, “You need to eat, kid.”
My eyes narrowed, but I didn’t move or say anything to him.
“You’ve been here two weeks,” His head hung, “we’re glad you’ve been drinking some but you haven’t been doing that nor eating nearly enough. We aren’t here to drug you or to hurt you, you need to start trusting us.”
I swallowed thickly, my throat scratching like sandpaper. I glanced back over at the food, my stomach swirling nauseously but growling hungrily. I grimaced and clenched my jaw tightly, closing my eyes and looking away from the food.
The man sighed, grabbed the tray off the table and spun around, his footsteps echoing through the room, getting quieter and quieter as he walked further away. The exit opened and closed with a sealing noise, and I let out a quiet breath, letting my head drop, chin to chest.
I slowly stretched out my hand to the cup of water, shaking uncontrollably. I grabbed the cup and peered inside, checking for any signs of discoloration, odd smells, or extra fizziness. But the water was clear, non-bubbly, and smelled like nothing.
My hand shook as I brought the cup to my chapped lips, taking a sip of the water gingerly. I held the water in my mouth, waiting for any burning sensation, odd taste, or any other reaction at all. Once I was content with the lack of reactions, I swallowed the water, savoring the cool, wetness against my hot, dry throat. I sighed and drank a few more sips before deciding to keep the rest in case they decide I don’t deserve water any more.
I shakily set down the water, then looked at the food next to me. I stared between the portions, my stomach clenching painfully, before finally reaching out for the roll.
The roll was surprisingly warm and soft, the outside squishing underneath my dirty flesh fingers. My steel hand lifted up, and grabbed a small piece of the roll, tearing it off gently but my hands shaking at the effort nonetheless.
I set the roll onto my thigh that was stretched out in front of me, and glared at the small piece of bread I held in my hand as if I could see any sign of poison.
My stomach growled in anticipation, but I waited a minute more before I hesitantly set the soft bread on my tongue. A burst of flavor warmed my mouth, saliva filling it from hunger. I closed my eyes and savored the flavor for a few seconds before swallowing it. I waited a few minutes before grabbing the roll, waiting for a spasm of shakes or for unconsciousness to take over my body from the drugs. But they didn’t, maybe he was telling the truth?
Stop being stupid.
I sighed in complementation, ripping another small bite of roll off. I rolled it into a tiny ball before placing it on my tongue, keeping it there for moments to savor the flavor again.
“Please…”
The man below me was whimpering, he had his hands folded in front of him in a prayer, head slightly tilted down, the blood from a slice in his forehead trailing into his left eye, blinding it and making him cry blood. The tears left trails of blood down his cheek and dripping off his chin, staining the cream colored carpet. He squeezed his eyes shut, mumbling a prayer and moving his hand, touching both his forehead, the center of his chest, and both his shoulders. his hands trembling with fear.
He opened his eyes, his hazel ones peering into my soul. “I beg you,” he brought his hands back into a prayer, “Please, let my family live. You can kill me, torture me, but my family did nothing. Spare them, I beg of you.”
Whimpers erupted in the corner of the room, where an older woman was huddled next to a boy that was about 17 and a young girl that was about 5. They all shared similar blonde hair, the woman’s hair stained red with her blood. The children were unharmed, besides some glass that was digging into their knees and the palms of their hands. I glanced out the window, seeing the darkness of the sky beginning to lighten into a pink. This was taking far too long.
I looked back down at the man and kicked him back into the wall, earning a screech from the woman and whimpers from the young girl. The young man just tensed and breathed harshly, watching me like a hawk.
I walked up to the man, grabbed his bound wrist, and pulled him behind me to the steel radiator that was off due to the summer heat outside. I bound him to one of the bars and turned to the valve, and spun it to turn the radiator on. The man squirmed against the metal and tugged forward to me, I eyed him and tilted my head. I then turned around, and walked over to the family of 3, grabbing the two children and dragging them to the bed, tying them to the frame. The boy tugged away from me but I held my grip firm, tightening his restraints extra tight. The young girl was balling and screaming into the cloth that was stuffed into her mouth, I narrowed my eyes at her and crouched down to her level.
I could here both the parents squirming and the father was yelling at me, “Don’t you fucking touch her! Get away from her, you monster!”
I didn’t spare him a glance as I looked the girl straight in the eye and lifted my finger up to my mask-covered mouth, telling her to be quiet. I looked to my side and a shadow puppy appeared, curiously looking around and finally moving to the girl, happily sticking his tongue out. Once the girl was content, I turned to the mother.
She was staring at her daughter with the dog, confusion and helplessness gleaming in her blue eyes.
I unbound her hands, the man behind me thanking me repeatedly for my mercy, for not harming the young girl. I turned around and a whip of shadow wrapped tightly around his mouth, shutting him up. I turned back to the mother and pulled my mask off my face, her face morphed into sadness as she took in my face, and I stared at her directing into her eyes before blowing air at her with a sigh, like blowing a kiss.
A black mist of shadows flew through the exchange of breath and when she breathed in, the dust was swept up into her airway.
She choked for a second, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and she began convulsing. The two men in the room were screaming at me and the woman, but the cloth and shadows muffled the sound. Tears leaked out of the mothers eyes, and her skin took on a gray, decomposing look. She began screaming into the cloth, making me move my hand over her mouth to keep the sound more muffled. I knew what my powers were capable of, but this was really the first time I was able to see it work like this. I knew the shadows had dug deep into her mind and pulled her worst fear out and made it all real. It may have been what was sitting in front of her right now, but now she was seeing it in full detail and maybe even doing it herself without being able to stop it.
She took in a deep breath and stopped moving, when I lifted my hand and her head lolled to the side, blood and spit dribbling out of her mouth. Her skin was now a light gray, her eyes bloodshot and her hair was withered to near dust.
I stood up, placed the mask back on my face, and wiped my hand on the leg of my pants, moving over to the young boy, who had tears threatening to fall, and the little girl who was blissfully unaware of what just happened. The man on the radiator was now squirming in pain, the room smelled like burning hair, but that smell would soon turn into the smell of burning flesh. I reached around the boy and unrestrained him, his hands immediately shooting up to shove me back. I caught both of his wrists and twisted them behind his back, a few cracks coming from his arm. I kicked the back of his knees, sending him sprawling onto the ground. I dug a knife out of my boot and leaned down to grab his short, blonde hair.
The boy reached up and ripped the cloth from his mouth and threw it across the room, “Let go of me!” he reached his arms up, gripping onto my own wrist, digging his fingers into my coat and my scar that tattooed the middle of my forearm. I repositioned the knife in my metal hand and used the free part of it to grip his chin painfully up, earning a grunt of pain from him. I moved my right hand, trading places with my left, his hands not leaving my wrist.
My eyes flickered to the older man, who was fidgeting in pain, smoke rising from behind him as his clothes melted and his skin began to smolder and blister. He was grunting and screaming against the shadow mouth cover. I couldn’t tell if it was from pain or from fear, but I couldn’t find the will to care. I flipped the silver dagger in the palm of my metal hand, and watched as I slowly dragged it across his throat. He screamed and moved his hands to rip the knife away from his skin and it was too late. I dropped his hair and he fell forward, gripping his throat and choking up blood onto the cloth in his mouth.
I stood up straight, and whistled a low whistle. The cute little shadow puppy began to grow, smoke-like wisps trailing off its back and hind legs and its eyes becoming golden-orange. The ears became bigger and pointed, the tail was bushier, and its teeth were pointed and a pristine white color, visible by the snarl that the wolf-dog had taken on.
The ears pinned back, a growl ripping through its throat before it leapt forward and began its mauling. The little girl was screaming, blood spraying onto the walls, the bed, and onto my boot. I watched the man in front of me crumple and scream, sobbing uncontrollably. His entire hands and back were burnt, skin becoming black on the edges of the deep wounds from the charring and peeling back, some bone visible as well.
I looked back at the wolf to see a shape that somewhat resembled a young girl, eyes wide with fear and mouth open agape. The dog wandered up to me, rubbing its blood soaked head onto my metal hand, adding to the blood smearing it.
My heart was pounding in my throat and the world was spinning. My skin was cold and slick with sweat but I felt like my innards were on fire and being twisted by a mixer. The man’s screams filled my head, nonstop and screeching.
I moved from my seated position I had accidentally fallen asleep in, moving away from the wall and gripping onto my knees as I pulled them to my chest. I ducked my head, my knees squeezing it between them and my metal and flesh fingers laced together on top of my head.
I gasped for air, my lungs burning like I was under water again, pleading for oxygen to enter my lungs but it wouldn’t work.
My brain spun, trying to figure out what was happening.
I was poisoned. Drugged. Yes that had to be it, I had given them too much trust and they had seen that. They poisoned me, and now I was going to die because I made a stupid mistake I was taught to never make.
I knew better.
My head spun more, causing me to lurch sideways onto the ground. My body slammed into the concrete, my right side against the cool floor, my skin burned from the coldness that bit into my skin.
A flash of steel gray eyes flashed in her mind, then a mouth with a gnarled mouth, making the person permanently grin. My eyes snapped open at the flashes and I groaned audibly, sounding more like a hiccup due to the sharp intakes of breathing.
My chest felt like there was someone or something standing on top of me, the pressure of it felt like my ribs were caving in.
Sounds around me were buzzing and the lights above me blurred, blending together.
Suddenly, there was someone grabbing both my arms, flipping me onto my back.
“No, no.”
The blurry shape of a man appeared above me, a blob of dirty blonde on his head. My heart dropped to my stomach and I heard mumbling of an incoherent language.
“Kid, stop-” I lifted my hand and tried to pry his hands off me, but my hands were shaking violently, “Stop talking and moving, just breath.”
I realized then that I was the one mumbling in incoherent languages, I snapped my mouth shut and tried taking in a deep breath but it was cut off by a sob that racked my body.
I was pulled upwards into a sitting position by the man, being told to breathe and that I needed to keep doing that.
I tried to breathe but my lungs wouldn’t comply, they burned, starving for oxygen.
The man continued to talk to me, offering words of encouragement but I couldn’t understand him, I could only hear the loud buzzing around me and the man’s screams that wouldn’t go away.
I reached my metal hand up and clawed at my neck, feeling the sensation as if something was choking me, but nothing was there.
His hands left my arms and grabbed my hand, putting his hand into mine, stopping me from ripping my throat open.
“Deep breaths, count to five breathing in.”
I forced a breath into my lungs, hiccupping.
“Good, now hold it for five more,” I tried my best to hold it but I sharply let the breath out and breathed in again, “That’s alright, now breathe out for five seconds.”
I breathed out, closing my eyes and gripping the man's hand, shaking from the adrenaline and panic.
I breathed for a few more minutes, then when I was able to take somewhat even, controlled breaths, the man let me go and moved away from me.
He moved to the opening of the cell and leaned against the wall, positioning himself to be able to get back quickly and effectively if I had decided to pounce.
I studied him in my peripheral vision; he was an older man with slightly tan skin as if he spent some time outside and wrinkles from stress and age. His eyes were a bright blue and upturned, eyebrows pinched in a way that told me he was studying me as well. His nose was wide and had a curve in the middle as if it was broken at one point and healed without a splint of any kind. Inside his ears was technology that reminded me of a communication piece. I made a mental note that he was probably in contact with the others at this exact moment. He donned a red t-shirt with dark blue jeans on, wearing a pair of shoes with a checkmark on them.
We sat there for a few moments, watching eachother, choosing to not make the first move in case it would show weakness.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, “Do you want to tell me what that was about?”
I glared at him and let out a huff of annoyance at the irony of his words.
He tilted his head slightly, “Funny?”
I clenched my jaw and looked away from his face, once again staring at the wall. My body felt heavier than before, fatigue once again taking over. I was still slick with sweat and shaking, my heart pounding in my throat.
“Okay, you don’t have to tell me. We’ll get there eventually.”
I held back a snort as I thought back. I never should’ve started to trust them, but now I’ve learned my lesson and I won’t do it again.
I wasn’t even sure what they had given me, but perhaps I had been too immune for it to work. But he hadn’t seemed surprised that I was still alive, so that couldn’t be it. Or, the purpose was to unsettle me, weaken me. Was that why this man was so comfortable being in my containment with me? Had they taken my powers?
But I still felt the power flooding my veins, pulsing through my heart.
So what poison was I given, and what was its purpose?
My gaze had settled on the ground mid thought, so I snapped my attention back to the man, who was leaning against the shield in a mock relaxed state, arms crossed over his chest in a protective manner. He still watched me, a frustrated look behind his blue eyes as he watched me straighten up and begin to watch him again.
“Jarvis,” I clenched my jaw at the sudden words that echoed through my head painfully, “send the stats to Tony.”
He waited for a second, then straightened up and his posture became serious and stiff. He stepped out of the shield which stayed open behind him, until he closed it with a push of a button.
I watched him move towards the door, come to a screeching halt, and turn to look at me, “Stay, no matter what, stay here.”
I blinked at him in surprise and stilled immediately. He recognized that I understood the order, paused for a second with sympathy saddening his face, then spun around to leave. This was the first order I had received here, it was familiar.
I instantly recognized that he needed to be obeyed, his face was hard and his voice was demanding, telling me rather than asking me. I couldn’t understand why in that second that he had paused, he looked sympathetic. Why had he looked disappointed that I had listened? Did I not do what he wanted? I thought I was, I was staying still, staying here where I needed to.
I watched the door, and listened to the humming of the shield around me and a quiet thumping that was in the ceiling. I glanced upwards but the movement stopped, and the lights flickered around me. I tensed up as the shield around me dropped, then came alive again. The lights in the ceiling went out, leaving the room in complete darkness if the shield hadn’t still been emitting the blue hue. Quiet steps sounded outside the door where the man had ran through just minutes before.
A soft voice was sobbing, a woman. I took in a deep breath and held it as the door was opened with a bang. I tensed more, trying to not jump as a swarm of soldiers came hauling in, the man in the front holding a younger woman who was sobbing.
All of the soldiers had plain black masks on, like the one I wore on mission, while the man in the front had a black one on with a hydra symbol on the side, showing his official rank.
The woman he held had dark skin and kinky black hair, it was in braids that seemed to have been yanked and pulled. Her makeup was smeared in tear streaks, a purple bruise already forming on her jaw. Her brown eyes were glazed with tears and wide with fear. She was dressed in a ruffled, light pink dress shirt and a wrinkled pair of black dress pants.
The man held her by the back of her throat, pushing her forward with a gun barrel stabbing into her back.
“Move,” he said in his russian accent.
The woman complied, and he let her go for a second before grabbing her again, bringing her to a halt and causing a strangled cry to rip out of her throat, “You try to run and I’ll let these guys have some fun, understand?”
Her lower lip wobbled as she opened her mouth to talk, “u-under-st-stood.”
He nodded, then shoved her forward so she slammed onto the ground. She hurriedly scrambled upwards, moving away from the laughing men behind her as she stood. She moved to the table outside of my container and shakily moved to the button that the man had used to close it.
She hesitated with her hand above the button, and glanced over at me. I watched her, glancing at the men every so often. They were antsy, almost hopping foot to foot, while the woman was shaking, deciding her fate. Her face hardened as she made her decision, and the man had realized what was going to happen. He began to move forward with quick angry steps as she slammed her fist onto a button right on the side of the table, the button glowing red. The man grabbed her and threw her on the ground, away from the table before she could cause more damage.
She let out a wail and tried to crawl forward but another soldier came up and stepped on her hand. His other leg flexed, then kicked her right in the cheek, blood spraying out of her mouth.
He stepped off of her hand, and she brought it to her chest, cradling her hand and holding her cheek.
I stood up from my seated position, watching as the woman cried as she was hauled upward by a soldier. The man in charge cursed to himself and turned to me, meeting my eyes. He narrowed his eyes, analyzing me as his frown deepened.
He moved to the desk and looked down at the buttons impatiently, then took out a gun from his holster and shot the board. But instead of a bullet, a high voltage electric shock shot out, electrocuting the entire desk.
The button on the side flashed on and off, and so did the shield. He holstered the gun again and watched the shield completely collapse around me, the room becoming completely dark.
My eyes adjusted to the lighting, the open door being the only source of light.
The head soldier stepped closer to me, stopped a few paces away from me. I immediately straightened my back and lifted my chin up, meeting his gaze.
He narrowed his eyes, “Let’s go.”
The soldiers began moving to the door, holding the crying woman who I desperately held my gaze away from. My knees felt locked and unstable beneath me, feet stuck to the ground. I clenched my jaw as he glared at me, noticing my lack of movement.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he snarled, he closed the gap between us, causing my hands that were locked behind my back to shake, “I gave you an order, Soldier.”
I swallowed hard, but stayed planted to my spot. I felt like I was going to fall over and my head felt like I had banged it against the ground.
He quickly upholstered his gun and pointed it at me, “We are leaving, whether you want to or not.”
I wanted to leave, of course I did. They were my family. But orders were orders, I had to follow them.
I wanted to leave.
My mind felt like it was falling apart as both the orders I had gotten from the man from earlier and those gray eyes with the scarred lip had kept me stuck.
I lurched forward as a burning pain coursed through my body, starting at my stomach. A cry escaped my throat and my knees slammed into the ground, hands holding me up. I took in a shaky breath and shivered, spit dribbling out of my mouth.
My head was yanked up by the man, forcing me into a standing position. I took in a sharp breath and groaned, the man shoved me forward, out of my designated area, and pushed the barrel of the gun against my back.
“Move.”
I stumbled a step forward, closing my mouth and following the soldiers who had stopped and watched what was going on. My ears ringed, keeping me from listening to the sounds around me that I had become accustomed to. I walked behind three soldiers, two others on either side of me, the one on my right holding onto the woman tightly. I glanced over at the shaking woman, who kept her gaze down, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes and snot trailing down her lips.
I looked away, back to the soldiers in front of me, blinking away the haziness from my vision. I couldn’t hear how many footsteps were behind me, but I assumed that there were about three others, making eight total soldiers.
I knew the one in command was directly behind me, the cool barrel of the gun pushing on me every once in a while. We walked up a large amount of stairs, and by the end of the stairwell, I read a sign with the words “roof” on it.
When we opened the door, a bright light flooded the stairwell, blinding my eyes. I closed my eyes for a second, but was forced to open them as I was shoved forward, legs scrambling to catch myself before I slammed into the ground.
The wind shocked me, a cold chill whipping my hair around and stabbing into my core. Goosebumps rose on my arm and my body shivered in an attempt to warm me up.
There was a helicopter that was standstill on the pad, a pilot pushing buttons and waiting for our group.
We walked a couple steps and the sounds of heartbeats rapidly increasing and overlapping filled my ears as the ringing stopped. I clenched my jaw and took a sharp intake of breath, looking around one last time at the soldiers I could see without being obvious.
I looked to my left and grabbed the man’s arm, twisting it behind his back and ripping the gun from his holster and pointing it at the man that held the woman.
He moved to grab his gun and the woman’s eyes widened, watching the gun in my hand point in her direction. She winced as a loud bang filled the air and the bullet whizzed over her head, burying itself in between her captors eyebrows. I readjusted the man I was holding, placing him in front of me as an electric bullet was flying through the air. I let go of the man and kicked him forward, his body convulsing with the high voltage. I crouched down and shot at a man's ankle, a scream erupting from his throat. Another electric bullet was shot at me, I moved to the side but the shot grazed me, stunning me to the ground.
I groaned as I tried to get back up, but another shock convulsed my body, sending me hard into the ground. A body kneeled on top of me and I groaned, shakily trying to push myself up. A thick mask was shoved over my face, and as soon as I took a deep breath, my lungs were screaming in agony.
My body curled in on itself as the body above me moved off me. I screamed at the burning in my throat and my lungs and filled my head, clawing at the mask on my face. I gripped the vial that was twisted into the mask and yanked it off, but it was nearly empty, most of the air already in the mask and my lungs. I took in ragged breaths as a soldier grabbed my blonde hair with his whole hand and yanked me up.
I opened my eyes to see the lady being yanked on again, pulled into another man's arms, at the door. She had tried to run but had gotten caught. A feeling of dread for the woman sank deep in my gut.
Her screams were echoing and painful to my ears, “Shut her up!” The man in charge yelled in Russian.
Her screams were cut off with a loud crack as the soldier's fist connected with her cheek again. She collapsed in a heap and remained crying, holding her jaw.
The man looked back at me, and narrowed his eyes, “You ungrateful bitch,” he snarled, “We are trying to save you.”
I growled at him, hearing his heartbeat leap at the lie, “Liar.” I spat the word out at him like venom.
He watched me as I stared at him in fury, “You’re defective, you and your soldier.”
I coughed violently, my lungs rejecting the gas that was making me light headed.
“After we get done with you,” he lifted up a different gun, “We’ll go after Barnes next.”
Barnes?
The head of an arrow shot through his knee, right above his knee cap. He screamed and reached his hands down gripping his wound. The man that held me let go of my hair, freeing me. I kicked my leg out and wrapped it around his own, pulling him down onto the ground. His mask was knocked off when he connected with the ground, revealing his chiseled jaw and tan face. His hazel eyes looked at me and he kicked at me, forcing me into a tumble away from him, stopping a couple of feet from the edge. I groaned and took a breath in, gas no longer filling up my lungs, but they burned nonetheless.
I shakily stood up and looked up, seeing the soldier launch himself at me. His body crashed into mine, the air leaving my lungs at the impact and we landed onto the ground, half of my body was hanging over the edge, only his body holding me on the ground. I took a deep breath in, coughing at the burning. I glanced beneath me and saw the shimmering surface of water below me, slightly sticking out of the building.
The man moved to get away from me to let me fall myself, but I locked my ankles behind him, grabbing him by his collar and yanking him backwards, causing us to free fall downwards, head first.
We were free falling, his screams filling the air with the loud wind that threatened to burst my eardrums. I tightly held onto the man, keeping us in the same position we were in and keeping him from moving away.
I looked down at the water and unlatched my iron grip from the man, the water below us becoming bigger each second we fell. I pushed off of his body, forcing myself underneath the ceiling of the room where the pool of water was, and crashed into the water, my body connecting with it painfully like it was concrete. I opened my eyes to the blurry surface, the sun glaring underneath and refracting off the white tiles. Another thing crashed into the water, red blooming in the water like paint and bits of matter sinking slightly before floating back up.
I hit the bottom of the pool hard, a pain shooting down my spine and through my limbs. I choked on the water as my body instinctively tried to take in a breath of air.
I placed my feet on the ground, launching myself out of the red pool. I took in a gasp of air as I broke the surface, reaching for the edge of the pool. My hands met the concrete edge and I pulled myself towards it, lifting myself out of the water. The water that had soaked into my clothes leaked from it and puddled on the ground beneath me.
When my body was finally on the ground, I collapsed, breathing heavily, but the water on my mask made it hard to breathe. A cold breeze from the outside brushed my skin, making me shiver from the coolness.
The sound of a vent opening made me look up, the man with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes dropped from the ceiling, rolling to absorb the drop. I quickly moved into a crouch, my soaked hair sticking to the back of my neck and my shirt.
He lifted his hand up, he wore the same clothes that I had seen earlier, but now he had a bow in his right hand and a collection of arrows on his back. I moved my glance from him to his weapon, he promptly hooked it over his shoulder, making it so it was easily accessible. I looked at his hand that was outstretched in front of him, palm forward as he continued towards me.
“I won’t hurt you,” I watched him lower his chin slightly and make direct eye contact with me, when he got within arms reach of me, he turned his hand palm upward, “Trust me, just for now.”
I swallowed hard, and watched his posture stiff as a voice echoed down the hallway. He looked away to the door that voices were getting closer to, then snapped his gaze back at me when I lifted my wet, flesh hand and gripped his. He looked down at our hands and nodded quickly, helping me stand up. His gaze locked behind me, my eyes followed his gaze to face the mangled mess of a man on the edge of the pool, bits of his flesh and his blood floating in the pool.
It was the man I had brought down with me from the roof.
Before I could look any longer, the man tugged my hand forward gently, attempting to steal my attention.
I let go of his hand and watched as he turned and looked at the door, “Okay, we have to work together, not against each other, understand?”
I quickly took an arrow out of his quiver and pointed the head upwards, he quickly spun around at the movement, hand on a knife that was strapped to his side. I hooked the sharp edge underneath my mask and cut, ripping the mask off of my face, finally able to take a full breath of oxygen in.
I swiped the hair away from my face with my metal hand and spun the arrow around, handing it back to him.
“Together,” My voice was rough and quiet. I glanced down at the knife he had subconsciously grabbed and took in a deep breath in annoyance.
He let go of the knife and grabbed the arrow that had blood dripping off the edge of it. He sighed in frustration as well, taking the bow off his shoulder and nocking the arrow in the string. I looked over at the door that slowly crept open, the darkness of the hallway hiding the shape in the doorway.
The man let the arrow fly and it shot through the door, the door slamming open. A man's body was leaning against the door, head stuck to the door by the arrow the man had just shot.
I snuck forward to the door and waited on the side of it, looking around the frame for anyone else that may have been waiting. I sat there, listening for any sounds, but could only hear the slow heartbeat of the man next to me that I was too hyper aware of for comfort.
I reached down and grabbed the bleeding corpse’s gun from his bloody hand and lifted it up. I rounded the corner, eyes tracking each of the doors and my ears tracking the mans and any other movement that was around me. There was a red light flashing above a metal sliding door, emitting one of the only lights besides the sunlight from the windows.
I slowly pushed open the door closest to me and peered inside, but saw and heard nothing. I moved on, reaching a wider room that held nothing but a door on the other wall.
I moved into the room and scanned the empty room, slowly moving to the other door. I felt the small touch of powers as they resurfaced, back from their deep sleep from the gas the mask had given me. I rolled my shoulders and reached for the knob of the door, grabbing it gently.
I twisted it slowly, opening the door to a crack, listening to the sounds before fully opening it. I stepped through the doorway, leaving the door open behind me as I moved forward, squinting through the darkness at the stairwell I had just been earlier with the soldiers that happened to try and kill me.
I moved to the stairs that went upwards, looking behind me as the man walked through the door, joining me in the stairwell.
He moved to the stairs that led down, “I’m trusting you. If you bolt I’ll know it.”
I looked away from him and climbed the steps, stopping at each wall to listen for any movement before moving on.
When I reached a door with a sign that read 86, I silently pushed it open and listened for any noises. Quiet footsteps echoed throughout the floor, but none seemed too close, so I opened the door and peered inside. It was a huge open room with towering walls and islands of books, plenty of nooks and crannies available for people to hide in. The tall islands of shelves in the center of the room offered shields and protection as well.
I stepped into the room and stepped to the closest shelf, my back to it, peering around it and listening. One pair of footsteps to my left and one directly behind me, further away. The ones on my left were closer, so I moved that way, staying behind the shelves. I looked back where I had walked from and saw a trail of water following me. I made a mental note to find a change of clothes before it exposed my position.
I holstered my gun in the strap of my pants and peered around the shelf but saw no one down the aisle, so I stepped around the shelf and to the next one, listening to the footsteps that had gotten louder. I looked around the shelf and saw a soldier crouched, walking slowly through the shelves towards my direction, seeming to be listening for any movement as well, but without hearing like mine, he wouldn’t hear me. I moved around the shelves and hid, focusing on his footsteps growing closer and closer.
His heartbeat thrummed, quiet and a steady rhythm, getting louder in my ears the closer he got. He took short, sharp intakes of breath, held it for a few seconds, then let it out slowly. I looked at the ground, but the room was too dark to cast any shadows, so I waited.
I held my breath, watching for any movement and waiting for any sign to go.
A glimpse of a pistol poked from behind the shelf, pointing up and in a weak position. My left hand reached out and grabbed the pistol while my right hooked underneath the gun and gripped between his hands, the soldier squeezing his hand and shooting the gun in reflex. The slide of the gun rubbed against my metal hand and the barrel of the gun grew hot from the shot.
I launched towards him, my knee flying up to his hand and toward the butt of the gun. I dislodged the pistol from his hand and twisted it from his grip.
The gun clattered to the ground and the soldier swung his right fist back, readying to punch. I moved to the side, dodging the swing, so I was on the outside of his arm. My metal hand hooked on top of his arm, moving it downwards, and my right hand went up, blocking the incoming punch from his other side. I moved my other hand from his right arm, onto his left and pushed that down as well, then quickly jabbed him in the face to stun him, then punched him, sending him stumbling backwards.
He grabbed the shelf on my right to regain his balance, but I was already moving into a kick. I spun, lifting my left leg up then switched legs, landing on my left leg and spinning my torso, my right leg extending out and connecting with his ribs, and sending him flying into the shelves.
The shelf shook at the impact but didn’t move. The soldier fell onto the ground, taking some books down with him. He was out cold, but not dead. I moved him over quickly, looking for a quieter weapon that he would have. The gun I had disarmed him of had been too loud, so I needed to rush before the other soldier got here. I needed something lethal but quiet so I didn’t alert any others, the gun on my waistband a temporary precaution only.
I found a knife in his boot and the side of his torso, taking the strap that held the second one with it. Before being able to do anything else, a pair of hurried footsteps was heard to my right, so I moved backwards quickly and went behind the shelf.
The footsteps stopped suddenly, right where I just was, next to the unconscious person.
My gut pulled painfully at the realization that the man was still alive, that I had left a witness alive. He was a risk to me because I hadn’t properly taken him out, I needed to fix that.
I listened to the man move around for a second then start talking, assumingly into a walkie talkie.
“In the library, Leon’s down but alive. She’s here.”
A few beats passed before the voice of the man with an arrow through the knee answered, labored and rough, “Get rid of him. He’ll blab, make sure you find her before she finds you.”
I looked around the shelf and saw the man slump, pocketing his walkie talkie. He stood up and upholstered his gun, aiming it at the man on the ground. I moved back behind the shelf just as a loud BANG echoed through the room.
I guess I didn’t have to worry about taking him out anymore.
I felt a shift in the air and stilled, the man’s footsteps were silent but I could feel his movement in the shadows as if they were my limbs. I heard no heartbeat nor breath but I knew he was alive and stalking me. I spotted the trail of water that led to where I stood, water dripping off my clothes into the puddle. I cursed myself silently, my lack of food and energy was affecting my common sense.
I moved around the shelf where the man wasn’t, as I moved, I peeled off my wet socks and shirt. I wore a soaked sports bra and my black cargo pants, but they wouldn’t make as much of a mess as the shirt and socks.
I moved around the maze of shelves until I found myself in a sitting area. I moved behind a small desk and crouched behind the wall of it, listening to the whispers of the shadows that I strained due to the lack of power. The gas that the men had given me had weakened it, forcing me to be mindful how much I used.
My head was pounding at the strain and my vision grew dark around the edges. I peeked around the desk and saw the man walking through the area, gun held low while holding his eyes high, scanning the area. I quickly moved back behind the desk wall and dried my wet hand on the carpet below me, then gripped one of the knives I had in my hand, hooking the strap of the other one around my arm so it hung underneath my left arm.
I turned around and looked for the man again, letting go of my hold on the shadows and letting the pounding of my head slowly go away.
The man stood still, listening for any movement before crouching behind his own desk. I moved around my desk and silently walked my way over to a red couch, getting behind it to use it as a shield.
I moved to the edge of the couch and watched for the man, waiting for some sort of movement to tell me that he had seen me move. When there wasn’t any, I quickly made the decision to throw the knife in my hand at a flower vase that sat, filled with baby’s breath, on the desk furthest away from me.
The glass of the vase shattered, directing the man’s gun and attention to shift over there, watching for me to flee the sound. He began to move quietly in that direction, so I needed to make my action quick.
I silently ran behind the bookcase and moved away from it so my back was against the bookcase across from it. I readied myself, then ran into the bookcase, shadows wrapping around the base and lifting it up, leaning it off the ground. I wrapped my hands underneath the shelf and lifted it, my side of the case was lifting, so I repositioned my hands and shadows, shoving it forward. My pelvis, which was healed, was throbbing at the weight I was putting on it by moving the heavy object. I let the bookcase go, the heavy thing falling slowly downward, books falling from the shelves and the wood creaking and groaning.
I heard scrambling and the movement of chairs along with heavy breathing and a pounding heart. I looked around the bookshelf and saw the man escape the falling wood as it crashed onto the ground, which shook underneath us.
He landed on all fours, gasping for breath. I pulled the knife from my side and ran at him, taking away his chance before he could recover.
He looked up, eyes wide with fear, and the images of the family in my nightmare smacked me, causing me to hesitate in my movement.
He lifted up his gun in my moment of hesitation and shot at my side, the bullet flying through my left torso. I flinched at the burning that harshly reminded me that he wasn’t the family in my dreams.
He’s not defenseless.
I dodged the next shot he took, taking my left hand and wrapping it around the barrel of the gun, then put my right hand on his wrist.
I quickly rotated the gun out of his hand, a crack emitting into the air as I broke his finger, taking the gun away from him. He groaned and grabbed a knife out of his hidden sheath, swiping it at me as I repositioned the gun in my hand.
I took a step back, away from the sharp edge, and lifted the gun, shooting the man right between the eyes. The body collapsed, knees bent into a kneel and his torso laying on top of his feet. Blood seeped from the hole in his head down his eyes and the back of his head, puddling around him.
I dropped his gun and leaned down, taking his knives. I studied his clothes to see if I could wear any, but they were all soaked with his blood, like the other man that laid dead a few bookcases away.
I stepped over his body and crouched down, grabbing the extra bullets he had hidden in the inside of his jacket.
I stuffed those in my pant pocket and stepped away from him, back to the exit.
I walked through the door I had left propped open, heading up the stairs quickly.
After a few staircases, I reached a door numbered ‘87’.
I opened the door a crack listening to the sounds in the room. I heard some electronic buzzing of multiple machines but that was it, no breathing or heartbeats.
I closed the door gently and resumed my climb; reaching a door numbered ‘88’.
I cracked open the door and instantly heard rummaging and movement. I listened to the whispers of the shadow that told me where they were; one of them were in the kitchen, opening drawers and cabinets, while the other was in the other room, waiting for his partner to be done, The one in the kitchen was further from me, but in a better position to catch off guard, so I chose the latter.
I moved next to the wall, staying hidden in the shadows as I crept. The room was dark, allowing me to creep around unseen, so long as I stayed silent, but the kitchen was made up of two walls with rectangular windows facing into the room and a large open door. There were windows along the wall of the kitchen and the room, allowing the light and heat of the sun to creep into the room.
One wrong move and I could be seen or heard.
I slowly made my way into the kitchen, watching the man lean against the wall lazily, picking at his nails as he waited for his partner to be done.
My head pounded relentlessly, letting me know that I had overused my already weakened powers. I clenched my jaw and continued to sneak along the shadows, stopping when I reached the open doorway.
I peered inside the open doorway, glancing back at the man to make sure he wasn’t looking my way.
The man was still picking at his nails, mumbling about how he needed to hurry up. I slipped through the doorway, moving quickly behind the wall so I was facing the man in the kitchen, but was out of sight from the living room.
I looked back at the man in the kitchen; he was opening the drawers, digging through and dumping the contents of each one. Pens and papers were scattered across the floor, the fridge was opened, a cool breeze and light flooding the room. Milk and orange juice was on the ground as if he had drunk some and dropped the rest in boredom.
I minded the spilled contents, stepping over them and towards the man. All of the sudden there was a loud crash and the sound of metal clattering onto the ground.
I watched as silverware slid over the floor and stopped at my feet, dirty from the white and orange liquids.
I froze and looked back at the living room, seeing if the other man had reacted to the sound and was coming to investigate. There was a grunt of annoyance and a shuffle, but no movement.
I turned back at the man who shared the room with me, and looked up at him, connecting eyes through the reflection of the window in front of him.
His brown eyes glowed with malice, a slow smile on his face once he noticed that I saw him. I instinctively reached for the gun that was still in my waistband.
He spun around quickly, grabbing his gun from the holster, lifting it up to take aim.
I raised my arm empty hand up, a burst of shadows erupted from the darkness of the room and wrapped around his arm, forcing the gun to point away from me.
I lifted my other hand up and aimed my gun at him, my hand shaking and misaligning my aim. The bullet from my gun shot out and pierced his shoulder, causing the gun in his hand to go off, the bang and his screams blending together as they rang through the room. I pointed my gun at him again, taking aim, but the gun clicked.
Of course the soldier had only one bullet left.
Stupid man.
I threw the gun off to the side and looked back at the man in front of me.
I knew we had limited time now, with the ruckus we had caused and the vines of my shadows tremeling, slowly withdrawing back into their corners.
I stepped over the content on the ground quickly, running towards the soldier while my shadows dropped from their hold, pain spearing through my head. He swung out his arm in a punch, but I dropped to the ground, dodging the attack and sliding underneath him. I twisted around, kicking the side of his knee, causing a loud pop and his body to crumple onto the ground into a kneeling position.
I stood quickly, spinning and lifting my leg, my shin connecting with the side of his skull. His head slammed into the counter edge next to him, my shin crushing his skull forcefully into it.
Blood and matter gushed from his head, silence overcame the room as his body fell, his eyes bugging out of his skull in horror.
I let my leg drop, watching the blood puddle onto the ground, staining his white skin and seeping into the black cloth he wore.
My head pounded, my heart in my throat and a wave of lightheadedness caused me to lurched to the side. I placed my hand on the counter, his blood that was splattered on it sticky under my palm.
I took in a deep breath, then forced my eyes up, my vision darkening and blurring with concentration.
In the doorway, a large, dark figure stood, the light from the window behind me casting my shadow on his figure.
The man wore the exact same outfit as the men I had killed and donned the same weapons strapped on his belt. His green eyes were bright with fury, his eyebrows forming the glare that he stabbed at me.
I quickly moved into a fighting stance, my bare foot sliding into sticky, chunky wetness below me. I paid no mind to it, grabbing for the knife collection that was in the corner of the counter.
The man barreled towards me, quicker than it seemed he was supposed to with his build. I grabbed hold of a knife, twisting around and readying it to plunge into his neck.
But he grabbed my conjoined wrists, slamming them into the counter, forcing the knife from my hand. My metal hand spasmed, a shocking sensation spreading through my arm and into my head. I groaned and my knees fell out from under me, the man still holding onto my wrists onto the counter to hold my body up.
I could barely see, my vision dotted and dark. The pain from the bullet wound was then noticeable due to the lack of adrenaline thrumming through my system.
“You’re going to fucking die,” the man grumbled as he wrapped a hand on my leg and lifted me up. My skin pulled at my wounds, and I tensed as I felt my body move upward, and move quickly as his hands left my body.
I slammed into something, I couldn’t be sure what, but a rush of cold air chilled my skin and objects fell from above me, landing on top of me and spilling onto the ground.
My ribs screamed as I moved slightly, taking in a sharp breath at the pain, “and I’m going to be the one to do it.”
I felt a hard object connect with my stomach, a crunching sensation and a burst of pain spread in my chest, then there was a loud scream. I hadn’t known who made that sound, all I know is that it made my ears ring and my chest felt like it was on fire.
I focused on trying to get my eyes open as I felt something grab my ankle and drag me on the floor, wetness coating my bare back and my pants, but my eyes wouldn’t open. They could’ve been glued shut and I wouldn’t know the difference. They felt heavy, weighed down by the overexertion of my powers and the pain that racked my body.
My leg was dropped and I felt something weigh itself down over my thighs and my middle, as if I was being sat on.
My eyes finally opened, the bright light from the kitchen blinding me and causing a blinding pain to rattle my brain. I was able to locate myself in the big room the other man had been in before and when I looked at the kitchen doorway, there was a trail of blood that led to where I was laying.
I was reminded of the weight on my legs when it moved painfully. I glanced up and saw the dark figure from before on top of me, holding a knife above me with a lighter with blue flames underneath it.
The knife grew red and blue as he heated it up. I squirmed underneath the man but it felt like all my strength and powers were gone, leaving me helpless against the man, and the way he sat over me with my legs locked, there was no way I could get out.
He chuckled, “You’ve caused so much pain,” my eyes glanced at his face, his mask was gone, the light from his fire lighting up the cruel smile that his mouth was twisted into and the malicious intent that brightened furiously in his eyes, “so, I’m going to return the favor.”
The lighter went out, his face going dark again, but the glowing knife was still visible in the dark.
The red metal grew closer to my stomach near my hip, the heat of it burning me as it got closer.
I moved to the side, straining to get away from the burning, but it proved unsuccessful as the metal tip touched my skin, blistering it immediately.
I clenched my jaw, and my hand flew forward, reaching for the knife. But the man’s rough hand grabbed my wrist and forced it above my head, above my useless one that wasn’t moving since it shocked me, pinning it down.
I groaned at the stretch on my torso and bucked my body, trying to get the man off me, but it just caused the knife to dig deeper into my stomach.
My voice felt like sandpaper dragging in my throat as a screeching sound filled the room. The man’s body above me moved uncomfortably, shaking as he laughed at my pain.
The knife dug deeper into my stomach, my muscles spasming and my innards blistering at the heat. My neck extended, my chin raising high as I choked on cries, groaning at the pain instead.
I took in a sharp, deep breath, pain shooting through my chest. My head spun from the pain, my eyes squeezing shut, silently hoping I would be graced with forgetting these moments later.
The movement of the knife stopped digging, the burning and sensation of something foreign in my side was still there, but I was able to open my eyes, looking at the man on top of me that went unnaturally still.
His head was tilted down, staring at an arrow that was jutting out of his chest. His hand left my wrists and moved to the arrow, blood seeping from his clothes and pooling onto my stomach and pants. I weakly lifted my right hand, and tried to shove the man off me, the weight on my legs lessening as he slowly fell sideways.
His body slammed into the ground, the ground beneath me shaking from the impact. I groaned, rolling slowly away from the man onto my side. The knife was still sticking out of my side, some blood leaking and blending with the man’s.
I took in a sharp intake of breath, pain flooding my chest as I did so.
I laid there for a second, gathering up strength as footsteps seemed to get near me.
I opened my eyes weakly and put my hand near the handle of the knife, ready to use it as a weapon if I needed to.
I cringed as the knife in my stomach moved painfully, but kept my eyes open to look for the source of vibrations on the ground.
I spotted a man walking in my direction, looking away from me at the soldier who was bleeding out. I swallowed hard and forced my eyes to focus on him, tensing when he finally looked in my direction. I saw him tense up as well, repositioning the object in his hand and putting it over his head.
He crossed the light that seeped into the room and my mind finally registered, it was the man with the bow and arrows.
I tensely watched as he stopped out of arm's length of me and analyzed me, “you still trusting me right now?”
I clenched my jaw and let out a deep breath of frustration, cutting it short and holding it when my ribs stabbed into my lungs.
The man narrowed his eyes at the act, “We have to get to the med-bay, the others will be here soon.”
He moved towards me and my hand crept closer to the knife in my stomach, he froze and eyed me, “if you pull that out of you, so help me God,” he said stiffly.
Despite my hand being close to the knife, he wrapped his arms under my knees and back and lifted me up with ease. He looked down at me as I tensed and gripped my side next to my gunshot and knife wound.
My eyes threatened to close as he opened the door and began to go down stairs. It felt like forever, we were winding down, down, and down, my heart in my throat and my eyes sliding shut and my head spun.
The name Barnes was burned into my brain, the word on the tip of my tongue as if it needed to be said.