The Unknown Enemy ∘ Marvel [3]

Chapter 13: Very, Very Bad

"You will do as your told, ne budet vam malen'kiy soldat?"

The man's Russian accent was incredibly thick, his voice not fitting for English words, so he would change languages mid-sentence often. The woman was used to that.

"I won't." She replied. She had black hair, black clothes, and black irises that seemed crafted to pierce through souls. Her features were sharp and angled perfectly, making her look more statue then human. A various array of weapons from katanas to guns were strapped on her, and she knew how to use them well.

Yes, she was very dangerous, and she knew it, but he was much, much more.

"Then take care of her." He told her, before turning his back on the woman.

My eyes shot open, my breathing rapid. I immediately sat up, putting my hand to my neck, which was sticky with sweat. My heartbeat was going at a ridiculously fast pace, the pulse running a miles a minute. I took in shaking breaths, my lips quivering as I did.

I focused on slow beeps and blinking lights of machines around me, reminding myself I was I was in a DC, in a hospital, safe. I looked at the clock, observing it was three in the morning as my heartbeat began to slow down. I took in long, steady breaths of oxygen, my lips still shaking. I glanced over at my hand, which was clutching my pillow. It shook with what would seem like tremors going all through arm, making my shoulders twitch.

I let go of the pillow, laying back down and focusing on staying still. The involuntarily shaking started to stop as I let my muscles relax, my breathing pattern returning to normal. I shifted onto my side, getting comfortable again.

But I couldn't get to a place of comfort anytime soon after what my unconscious brain just saw. No, it wasn't for the five months I was gone, but a past I'd much like to forget.

Something I shouldn't remember.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What was the last thing you remember?" Fury asked, eye narrowed, arms crossed, pacing. His signature interrogation pose.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Nick was the first person who didn't give me the warm-fuzzies when we reunited(it was a refreshing feeling),but I probably caused him a load of extra paperwork while I was gone. I wouldn't be happy with me either if I were him.

But you know what I wouldn't do if I were him?

Tick off Meredith by bringing in a semi-portable lie detector(knowing fully well I could lie and the machine wouldn't pick it up), then grill me on things that I had already told literally everyone at least four times. That's what I wouldn't do.

"I remember dragging my half-sister-"

"Which one?" The director asked.

Seriously? He already knew the answer.

"Zerina Sprouse from Nya Sprouse's dead body, and throwing Zerina under the door before it closed, trapping Nya and myself."

"Nya was dead at this point, correct?" His voice was monotone, not even looking at me, but the other side of the room.

Really Fury, you're giving me this BS? I've already told the dang story at least fifty times!

"Correct." I answer, keeping my voice steady as to not inexplicably raise when heartbeat, which may have been raising with my temper.

"How and when did she die than?"

I answer as calmly as I can," We were fighting on a ledge above the floor. She went for her gun, I went to stop her, she tumbled and dragged me with her. When I got up, her leg appeared broken and her head was a little funny. When I went to help her, her eye popped to the side and her pulse disappeared, mouth foaming I'm guessing it was a killswitch."