[ COMPLETED ]
BOOK 2 of the ORPHIC series
MONACHOPSIS
/ˈmənˌāˌkōpˌsis/
the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place.
~~~~~
Lucille "Lucy" Opal Baker might be the unluckiest person...
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"She has worn herself down to nothing."
???, Pacific Ocean February, 2012
AT THE END OF THE tests, what seemed to make the time and energy worth it, was Maria's smile, then the congratulatory hug afterward. It wasn't just a half-assed one either- it was a real hug that warmed Lucy's heart before she departed to her room.
It took her a remarkably short amount of time of uncertain pacing in the bare cell before she finally nestled herself into the corner- there had been no order or glance at the bed by Natasha and Clint before. She sat for some time, before she let her mind wander and drift.
Until she fell asleep.
It wasn't a good thing, falling asleep.
There were nightmares that always appeared- she'd been lucky for the past few weeks. She'd been too confused, too tired to conjure any dreams of substance.
But she should've known the peace wouldn't last.
She knew it was a dream from the moment she opened her eyes and gazed into the face of her father's corpse. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped her chest as her gaze moved to the man with his foot atop her father's neck, crushing his throat.
She knew who it was without following the leg to whom it was connected to. Her throat felt dry, her chest cold and numb, her heart a vague beat.
"Good afternoon, Weapon."
She couldn't help the confusion on her face.
His voice was glitched, like four people were speaking at once. She could hear Dr. Schaffer's voice distinctly- maybe that was Dr. Zola overlaying the phrase as well. Then Karpov and Sa- Pierce.
Pierce's voice was soft and comforting but somehow grating.
It was like the sound was pitched so high she could only cringe at the whining in her ears. She watched, stared without meaning to. She had no ability to move. She was terrified, scared as the man- the voices embodied Dr. Schaffer- lowered himself into a crouch, his foot still suppressing her father's broken trachea.
"You don't look happy." He mused- that was Pierce, his face contorting to match the older man.
And it looked chillingly similar to Steve.
It was an it, because the being in front of her was conjured of broken memories- it was a beast based upon incongruity. It was a messy mixture of all the trauma she'd ever endured.
