☑ THE SHADOW | Peter Maximoff

f o u r t e e n

~ 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚 ~

Amara squinted her eyes. "Once."

"There."

"Were."

"Seven."

"Roosters."

"And."

"Twelve."

"Mermaids."

"That."

"... shot."

"Many."

"Twinkies... into my mouth."

"Peter, you can't end every story with food."

"But I'm hungry," he groaned. "Okay, okay, okay. Start again."

"Once."

"My."

"Grandma."

"Had."

"A."

"Uh... toe."

If she had the breath, she would've laughed. "That."

"Smelled."

"Awfully."

"Delicious? ... Alright, great story! Look at us, the next Edgar Allen Poe."

"At least no one ate her toe."

He chuckled lowly. "Yet."

There was barely any light peeking through the window, which told Amara it was either nighttime or a cloudy day. She ignored the chill that ran up her spine and picked at one of her nails, trying to rack her brain for another game to play to help them pass the time.

It had been a while since they were first brought in. If she had to guess, maybe two weeks. But she'd lost track of the amounts of torturing and experimenting they'd gone through.

Her fatigue was settling much more than it had their entire time in captivity. She could hardly keep her eyes open, but her body was too scared to actually fall asleep. It was a vicious cycle, and as long as she was stuck inside that stupid prison cell, she was never going to get out of it.

The water dripped from the ceiling at its usual pace (she still had yet to find out what its source was) and her back ached from leaning against the bars. She read books before about being trapped in a dungeon, and as real as they sounded, she never thought it to be this bad.

Even with Peter to talk to, she could actually feel herself getting lonely. Of course, being lonely was what she wanted - but not like this. Not like this at all.

The smell of urine and mold was strong, but her nose became numb to it ages ago. The disgusting oatmeal she received seemed like the most delicious thing she had ever eaten every time the new rounds were out. The floor was still cold beneath her feet. Her body was just about ready to collapse.

The sound of footsteps stopped their talking again, and Peter groaned loudly.

"Didn't we just fucking get back?"

"Yeah," she murmured, furrowing her eyebrows. "Dr. Dietrich was all excited because this was the last dose - he said an hour and we'd be all settled for... something. It can't be an hour already, can it?"

"I have no idea," he muttered.

Amara gulped. She sat up completely and leaned back fully into the bars, where she gripped onto them tightly in a terrified anticipation. Minutes went by until finally two men - whose names she'd learned were Brad and Trent - came to her cell with evil grins on their faces.

Trent, the man that couldn't see out of one eye, also never spoke. Ever. She couldn't tell if that made him more horrifying or not. Either way, she hated these two the most. They were the ones that scarred her in ways no one else had, and they were the ones that left her the most tortured. Despite everything, they managed to take the cake. And she hated them.

"Come on, dollface." Should practically smell the stench of the evil grin off Brad's face.

She shivered and clutched onto the bars tighter, her body trembling. "I don't want to."

"You don't got a choice, dollface. You know the drill. Let's go, or we're coming in."

There wasn't any choice. She stood up slowly, but her grip on the bars was like iron. When Peter's hand held onto hers over the bars, she glanced back at him nervously.

"You can take them," he whispered.

She shook her head. "If I do, more will come, and it'll be worse for the both of us."

"Ames, you don't have to do this."

A tear fell down her cheek, but she hastily wiped it away. The only sort of consolation that she got from this was that it helped Peter stay safe in the cell.

It was interesting. As much as Amara hated the cell and wanted to do nothing more than blow it up, while she was prisoner here, the cell was the only place she wanted to be, because as much as she was locked in, she also felt safe that everything else was locked out. Nothing was going to hurt her in there.

With shaky steps, Amara ignored the calls from Peter and made her way over to the door. Brad grinned devilishly and unlocked her cell, and she waited for him to come in and give her the mutation dampeners.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Kinda nice we don't have to worry 'bout you anymore. That shit the doc gave you should be more than settled in now."

Amara gulped and carefully stepped out of the cell, any hope she had completely diminishing when she tried to ignite her power. Nothing happened.

The men chuckled.

"Let's go, dollface."

Her posture sank the further she walked. She continued to ignore the screams of Peter as she stepped along the stone floor, and winced when Brad pushed her shoulder to get her to move faster.

In a feeble attempt, she continued trying to use her mutation. She couldn't stop trying. Not now. Not while she was so close to freedom. 

She kept her eyes on the ground as her feet walked her along the path she'd memorized a long time ago. Her toes were almost black they were so dirty, and her legs were filled with so many cuts and scars it would have to be a goddamn miracle for her to not be infected.

Like there was anything she could do if she was.

K... K... K...na...

Her eyes widened. It was speaking to her. It's voice sounded strained, and hurt, but It was there. She tried harder.

K...na... k...l... ...em

It's voice was getting stronger now, and dark emotions were rising in her body. Her anger was settling at the bottom of her stomach.

She turned the corner and straightened her posture. The walls were beginning to look thinner and thinner, and her blood was getting hotter and hotter.

Ka... I... ba...

Amara continued to walk forward, not daring to look behind her while she kept her fists clenched together tightly. She didn't want her position to be shown yet.

I've missed you, Kahuna. It said finally, loud and clear with an evil laugh in It's tone. Don't worry. They won't hurt us anymore.

She turned the corner again and stopped just in front of the door where she would have usually entered. She wasn't going into that room ever again.

"Hey," Brad grunted, hitting her shoulder. "Let's go."

Amara's eyes were dark as she turned her head slowly and raised her hand, which was wisping with her energy.

The men's smiles fell, and quickly turned into screams.

w/c: 1160

a/n: so amara's got her powers back... is this gonna end well?? please don't forget to vote, comment, and share if you're enjoying!! xx