☑ THE SHADOW | Peter Maximoff

t h i r t y - e i g h t

~ 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚 ~

Two pairs of hands lifted her barely conscious body off the stone ground. She was choking on her own blood, but her arms were too weak to fight off anyone that had a hold on her. She had to get to Peter. She promised she wouldn't let anything happen to him. She had to protect him. But she couldn't move.

As the hands dragged her limp body across the ground, the light around her turned from a light gray to so dark she almost couldn't see anything, despite her eyes still being open. Her legs scraped across the stone, no doubt leaving a blood trail for anyone who was curious enough to follow.

Eventually, she was thrown onto a table. She didn't know where, and she didn't know why the hell she was strapped down to it (she was bleeding out and couldn't use her mutation - where the fuck was she going to go?), but she was.

A smaller, whinier voice suddenly groaned. She did her best to focus on it.

"Oh, for the love of-" Dr. Dietrich sighed and tapped his foot on the ground. "When I said I wanted her alive, I didn't mean it was okay to bring her clinging onto life. Bring me the lunatic that shot her."

The image of Peter hanging over the ledge burned into her mind, and she tried to sit up. She couldn't stop trying. She had to get to him.

But her body wouldn't listen to her. It just lay there, unmoving.

A gunshot rang through the air minutes later, and Amara's eyes slipped shut. She couldn't see anything, anyway.

"Look at this! How am I supposed to mind control a zombie?"

"Do not worry, Doctor," Kiselyov chuckled. "She can heal herself, remember? We just need to get the bullets out."

She couldn't keep herself awake long enough to hear what was said after that.

*****

The next time she woke up, there wasn't a thick, irony liquid in the way of her breathing, but it still hurt like hell.

Her head lolled to the side, allowing her eyes, which were barely open, to see the tube in her arm probably injecting the same disgusting treatment as before. Her arms and legs were strapped to the sides like a starfish. Her numb body was too weak to do anything about it.

Amara could only imagine the state she was in. Skin paler than it had ever been, eyes bloodshot and crusty, body broken and unable to move.

A face was suddenly put in her field of vision, bending down to her level and grinning wickedly. If she could've, she would've turned the other way.

"Well, well," Graeme chuckled, twirling his toothpick between his teeth as he sat on the table she was strapped to. "Welcome to the land o' the livin', sunshine."

His face was dirtier than before, and she was surprised her body didn't gag at the stench his breath gave off.

But she couldn't give a fuck about Graeme. There was only one thought on her mind.

"Where's Peter?"

Graeme snorted, another deep chuckle passing his crusty lips. "Right to the point, huh, sunshine? I thought you didn't like him."

She didn't have the energy to laugh back. "And I thought humanity was supposed to be the better species."

Of course, words like that were never uttered in the X-Mansion. But if you were anywhere else, say, for no particular reason, her parent's house, or any building that Remedy had ever, that was the sentence preached to the masses.