☑ THE SHADOW | Peter Maximoff

f i f t e e n

~ 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚 ~

Adrenaline raced through Amara's veins as she stormed throughout the halls. The screaming body of Brad (and squirming body of Trent) followed her through the air as she led them around with no real objective in mind besides one: revenge.

She was going to march straight up to Kiselyov and rip his heart out of his chest.

Amara paused after a minute and quirked her eyebrow as the screaming behind her never ceased, so she turned around to face her prisoners. A quick wave of her hand straightened the men out, and she snatched the set of keys on Brad's belt.

Amara swirled her hand around and rested her palm out, where she created a small gecko that fit into her hand.

"Free him." Her voice had changed. It was darker now, and had a whispering echo behind it that sent horrified shivers down anyone's spine if they heard it.

She placed the keys into the gecko's mouth and gently set it down on the ground, then watched it scurry away into the shadows of the dungeon. An evil grin spread onto her face as she stood up and met the faces of a terrified Brad and Trent.

"Aw, what's wrong, dollfaces?" she asked, pouting her lips and tilting her head to the side. The bloodlust she had was spreading through her body, and she welcomed it with open arms. "Are you... scared?"

Brad cried out as she squeezed her hand, and she chuckled darkly. This was going to be fun.

Amara walked away again, though she had purpose in her step as she turned every corner she memorized and stepped down every hall she hated to see.

Her bare feet padded against the rough stone, and eventually, the cells lining the walls morphed into long hallways. Her mind was fueled with anger, and every step she took made her stronger and stronger. She embraced it.

The sounds of Brad screaming behind her did her ears well as she paused at a doorway, where she noticed before on one of her trips held fresh clothes and uniforms. Using her power, she misted out of her own and quickly changed into a new pair of black sweatpants, a grey t-shirt, a grey zip-up sweater, and a pair of black socks and sneakers to hold her feet.

She rolled her shoulders at the feeling of fresh clothes at her back and the slight relief of shoes on her throbbing feet. The next place she wanted to go was the Torture Chamber, so she made that her target.

Amara was completely blinded by her rage, and for the first time ever, it felt good. It felt good to hear the men scream behind her with a simple flick of her wrist, and it felt good to be able to strut confidently down the hall where she knew at least a dozen guards would be waiting for her.

The doors were blasted open with her power, and all hell broke loose. She disintegrated all bullets shot her way and lifted a table to slam four guys into the nearest wall at their necks, snapping them audibly. She used her power to lift the pipe wrench and shove it through the stomach of one of the guards, who fell to the ground screaming.

A quick wave of her hand made all the light in the room disappear, and while the guards were all desperately trying to look around, Amara went up to them one by one and killed them all; she sliced the throat of one; she crushed the head of another with his own helmet; she snapped a third man's spine in half and shoved a pair of scissors down the throat of the last.

They all fell to the ground in less than a minute, and once they were down, she let the lights come back on and threw Brad and Trent against the wall.

Her first target was Trent. She walked up to him and lifted her hand, and every time she lightly squeezed her hand, Trent's eyes would widen and he would silently cry out in pain. Amara focused intently on her power. She let it swirl around the beating heart of Trent and squeezed it just too tightly every once in a while, causing his body to spasm.