𝐻𝑦𝑑𝑟𝑎'𝑠 𝑅𝑒𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎

Part Eight

Trigger Warning: Cursing, blood, etc, will be making an appearance in this chapter.

olivia_holland1996, Thank you, for your support and positivity. 

Y/N'S POV
My head throbbing in pain, my vision blurry, my ears ringing.

My throat, dry and sore, and discomfort rises in me as I still lie in the soft bed.

Stumbling as I walk to the glass, beads of sweat cover my forehead.

Raising my metal fist, punching the glass, pain coursing threw me. My hands clenched my side, a crimson red painted on my flesh hand.

Slowly peeling the blood-soaked clothing from my skin, to reveal an infected bullet wound.

Grunting in pain as my fingers brush over the bloody wound.

"I-I can treat your wound, I have th-the supplies." The man with the ebony black curls stutters, keeping his distance from the cracked glass.

BRUCE'S POV
Y/N's teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she groans in agony.

Her cheek was swollen and a tint of rosy pink, burned. Her (E/C) eyes are full of confusion and pain.

"We aren't going to hurt you," I inform calmly. Her expression was tired, her face glistening in the light with sweat.

"Who are you?" she asks harshly. Moving toward the cracked glass.

A pit in my stomach begins to grow as she furrows her eyebrows in irritation.

"Dr. Banner," I reply with hesitation
"But you can call me Bruce." I smile softly.

I punch in the code on the keypad, the cell door slowly opening.

Y/N'S POV
His ebony black curls fall in front of his face as he guides me through the corridors.

My vision blurry and my body weak. My shoes brushing against the cold floor, goosebumps tickling my arms.

My head heavy, as a pit in my stomach grows.

Memory:
Blood and dirt painted on my skin, my wrists in chains. Licking my lips, of the saltiness of my sweat.

"Soon when you break, and you will break. You will change the century," the doctor with blonde curls begins.

"People can't be trusted with their freedom, and you will help make them realise it." He informs.

Holding a sharp syringe, in his hand, bringing it to my neck. My stomach turning with fear. 

My eyes widen as he indjects the blue substance. Pain flowing in my veins, my body burning with hatred.

Screams twisted with agony escape my lungs. My throat sore.

White gloves cover his hands, and a syringe in his hand.

My eyes widen, my body begins to thrash. Clenching my fists as restrictions hold me down.

"Y/N, I'm going to help you," Dr. Banner soothes. "Your wound is infected."

He begins to move closer, my chest tightening. Bringing the syringe to my scarred neck.

"No, no." I mumbled. The pain, sharp and quick, as my eyes fluttered shut.