Brooklyn Boys|Marvel x Male OC

12 - Capture

All of a sudden, the man rapidly turns around and throws a knife in my direction. I notice something familiar about his face. Untidy stubble surrounded his jaw line, piercing blue eyes glared at me, messy hair half dangling over his eyes. One feature that stands out is the sharp silver glisten on his left arm. His black suit looks newly made and somehow slightly frozen. Multiple guns and knives sit on his body and on the table. The two of us freeze, both with similar looks in our eyes, trying to figure out if we know each other. That's it, I've got it.

"James?" I whisper, disturbed by the state he was in. You can easily notice the fresh scars on his face, and the way he flinches out of pain every so often when he moves. He walks towards me in silence, a blank look on his face. My heart is pounding but my body won't move. Here he is, standing in front of me. I bring my gaze up to meet his and reach my hand to his cheek.

His only response is to tightly grab my wrist and flip me onto the floor. I groan as I hit the ground, my back first, then nearly my head. He kneels with one arm next to my ear, a leg either side of my torso. He reaches for his knife and brings it up to my neck.

"James, please!" I shout, using what's left of my strength to push his hand away, tears forming in my eyes. He drops the knife next to me, but before I can even sigh for relief, he grabs a sedative injection and sticks it into my neck. The image of him blurs into darkness, my hearing disappearing not long after. My limp body shivers against the freezing concrete, before it's lifted over a muscular shoulder. The wind bites my bare skin as I'm carried through the outside and away from my team. I only make it a few meters away from the building before all of my senses are lost completely.

~~~~~~

Whimpering and wincing, I attempt to open my eyes. I can feel the puffiness and the way they burn before I fully regain my consciousness. Before I realise I've been captured, I feel like I'm delirious, like I'm imagining my current state. I open my eyes to a dozen unfamiliar Agents standing around the room, my captor here as well. - At least I'm not dead - My arms have been tied back against a chair, and my legs are tied to the bottom.

"Ouch." I say, offended as I tilt my head and feel a pang in my jaw. I shake my head and blink for a few seconds before lifting up my head fully.

"He's awake." My captor says to who seems to be the leader, before two of them stride over to me.

"You're pathetic." The leader spits at me with a thick Russian accent, grabbing my jaw with his thumb and index finger.

"What do you want from me?" I groan, my throat straining.

"What were you doing there?" He asks.

"Where?" I murmur before being punched across the face, "agh!"

"You're go-" I'm cut off by my own pain, "you're going to have to co-operate to get answers out of me- jeez you guys know how to punch. Why am I here?"

"You are going to tell us why you were snooping around our place in Belarus," another Agent demands holding a knife up to my jaw, his sleeves torn just like his trousers, "or you're going under."

"Why do you guys use so many knives?" I question while shaking, my voice breaking.

"Alright, out him under."

"Wait! What?!" I cry, just before my body goes limp again.

~~~~~~

My vision comes back as I look down at my chest. The S.S.R. tactical gear had been ripped off of me and I was left in combat trousers and boots. Blood was dripping from multiple places on my chest, and shallow breathing was followed by yet more shivering. I'm lying on my side on a damp floor, my hair watered with a mixture of blood, sweat, and just murky water from the ground. I groan as I flip myself over onto my stomach and grab the hole on the wall to help me up. I stumble onto a ledge in the room, the only available surface, and stare over at my bruised arms.