Amelie Stark - The Average Escape
Amelie Stark - The Average Escape
The cold metal of the chair I was tied to pressed against my back, chilling me to the bone. My body ached from the countless hours spent in an uncomfortable position, bound and helpless.
As my mind raced, I tried to focus on the task at hand - escape. I knew I couldn't afford to waste any more time feeling sorry for myself. The room felt oppressively small, the walls closing in around me, but I refused to let fear overtake me.
"What would Tony do..." I whispered to myself.
I struggled to move my wrists, feeling the stiffness in my limbs as they protested the sudden movement. My hands were still tied tightly behind my back, but I'd managed to slowly shuffle my arms around to attempt to begin loosening the ropes. My heart pounded in my chest as I listened intently for any sign of someone approaching. I knew that someone would come to check on me soon, I'd been counting between their visits and I had to act quickly if I wanted to make my move. My heart pounded in my chest as I continued to work on the ropes. The coarse fibres chafed against my skin, but I couldn't let that deter me.
Over the past day, I had noticed a pattern - someone would come to check on me roughly every 30 minutes. It wasn't much, but it was something I could work with. If I timed my escape correctly, I might just have a chance. As the minutes ticked by, the silence in the corridor outside my cell seemed to grow louder.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching. I held my breath, praying that whoever it was wouldn't come in this time, or just wouldn’t notice my change in position. The footsteps grew closer, then stopped right outside my door.
"Hey." came a gruff voice. "Stark girl. You awake?"
"Go away." I muttered, channelling all the defiance I could muster. "Leave me alone."
"Feisty one, huh?" The voice chuckled. "Well, enjoy your nap. I'll be back later to keep you company."
As the footsteps receded, I let out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding. Time was running out and I had to act fast. With one final surge of determination, I continued to work my hands free of their bindings, ignoring the pain as the ropes cut into my skin. At last, I felt the ropes slacken enough for me to slip my hands free. Gasping in relief, I shook out my fingers. They were numb from disuse but quickly sprang back to life as I untied the ropes around my ankles.
"Finally," I murmured, relief washing over me like a wave.
I stood on shaky legs, trying to ignore the pins and needles that shot through my feet as the door to the cell loomed before me. With my hands and legs finally free, I took a deep breath and pressed my ear against the cold metal door, trying to gauge if anyone was nearby. Hearing nothing but silence, I cautiously turned the handle, my heart singing as I realised it was unlocked but feeling the tension in my muscles as I prayed to find the corridor empty.
To my immense relief, it was. The corridor stretched before me, opulent and lavishly decorated. It seemed so out of place for the location of my prison - more like a large stately home, adorned with intricate artwork and plush furniture that spoke of wealth and refinement. Sunlight streamed in through large windows, reflecting off of polished wooden floors and casting long shadows.
"Amelie, focus." I told myself as I crept along the hallway, searching for an exit. "You can do this."
The sound of voices reached my ears, and I froze. There was no way I could risk being caught now. Panicking, I ducked into the nearest room, closing the door behind me as quietly as possible.
The space appeared to be some sort of private meeting room, with a large ornate table covered in stacks of paperwork and surrounded my thick wooden chairs. Daylight filtered through the grand windows lining the back wall, casting warm rays upon the polished furniture. The sunlight danced across the intricate carvings and gleaming surfaces, creating an almost ethereal glow that filled the space. It was a stark contrast to the cold, dim cell I had just escaped from where I'd had no indication of whether it was day or night.
I walked closer to the table, my fingers brushing over the smooth surface. Curiosity getting the better of me, I glanced down at the papers ontop and felt my heart stop.
"Project Rebirth... Phase 2 testing... Modified cellular degeneration...?" I read aloud, my voice barely above a whisper. Flipping through the documents, it became increasingly clear that these were research papers. It took me a moment to understand what I was reading, and when I did, my blood ran cold. "No...no, they can't be."
My mind raced as I made the horrifying connection. Whoever had me captive wasn't just interested in holding me hostage; they wanted to control us all.
"Control the heroes." I whispered, feeling a wave of panic rise within me. "I have to warn them. I have to escape."
My muscles ached, and my entire body felt like it had been run over by a truck. Despite the pain, I couldn't afford to dwell on it; there was still work to be done. My legs shook with exhaustion, but I willed them to keep me standing.
I glanced around the sunlit room, but there were no obvious exits. The walls seemed to close in on me, and I could feel the panic rising in my chest. Taking a deep breath, I tried to steady myself and think logically.
"Okay, think about what Tony would do." I muttered quietly.
Knowing him, he'd march out, repulsors raised, and face them all head on. A tactic that had worked for him countless times... but not something I was confident I would be successful with. Especially weaponless and severely lacking in my uncle's trademark bravado.
I sighed, the exhaustion making my thoughts slow and muddled. "Okay, maybe not the Stark approach this time." I whispered to myself, my thoughts going to Bruce's calm demeanour and cunning intellect. "Bruce... He'd find a way out of here, no problem."
So would Nat... Had she even been captured in the first place. Everyone here would be dead by now.
And Thor would have smashed his way straight out of that cell, probably having made friends with half the base and winning them to his side.
I smiled ruefully, my head tilting to the side.
Clint was a master of seeing what no one else noticed, he'd likely have found a ducting system to escape through. He'd have escaped and been back at the tower before anyone even noticed he was missing.
Peter would have sensed the bad guys coming before they'd even attempted to catch him.
And I was certain Bucky would have absolutely no trouble escaping this place. He'd walk down the halls with a sly grin on his face, almost daring anyone to try and stop him...
More than ever, I felt the weight of being average, the disadvantage I had in this situation compared to any of the Avengers, crushing down on me. Mortality and the mediocrity that limited me, in a way the rest of my adopted family didn't comprehend, was restrictive. A deep sigh escaped my lips, the darkness at the edge of my vision threatening to swallow me.
Then my thoughts drifted to Loki, to his understanding eyes and the lopsided smile that seemed to be making more regular appearances recently. He was a God, yet he'd been rendered powerless while he recovered from the battle with Thanos - a setback that must have felt frustratingly slow for him. Yet he always managed to persevere, consistently getting back up to continue whatever he started.
A small smile played across my lips as I thought over the last few months since Loki's arrival. It almost felt like he'd always been there.
Suddenly, an idea sprang to mind. Sometimes the best way to escape a trap is to set off the alarm deliberately, get the enemy mobilising while you slipped away in the chaos. It was risky, but it might be my only chance.
"Worth a shot." I muttered.
I searched the room for some kind of alarm screen or security system. A large panel covered in blinking lights by the main door looked promising.
Picking up one of the heavy wooden chairs around the table, I faced the panel.
"Pretty sure this still qualifies as the Stark approach." I sighed, gripping the chair tightly.
With as much strength as I could muster, I slung the chair towards the panel, my tired muscles screaming at me in protest as the heavy object left my arms.
A loud crash reverberated around the room as the chair smashed into the electrics, causing sparks to fly as the solid wood remained intact and ricocheted off the oak floor.
A beat of silence followed, seeming as loud as the crash itself.
Abruptly a piercing alarm sounded in the corridor, the echo of other alarms following suite from throughout the building.
Time to move.