Fanfic Bootcamp

Round 2: Drowning

I don't normally hold hatred toward aircrafts, but I'm really rethinking about the whole thing right now.

For one, I'm crammed into this tiny seat, on this stupid plane where a bathroom is not provided. Secondly, the air-conditioner sucks, and Mr. Stark keeps staring at me every time I shift, as if he's going to kick me out from the Avengers any second.

The plane jerks suddenly, making me jump, but no one seems to think much of it. Mr. Stark doesn't stop staring; Captain America continues fiddling with his shield; Thor goes on spinning his hammer in his hand, and the rest are asleep. Well, I guess there's also Dr. Strange, who decided to tag along and is the pilot of this stupid plane.

The plane jerks again, and Dr. Strange curses. I glance up, my heart pounding as everyone else sits up too, suddenly more alert than they've been in the last few days.

The next thing happens all too fast for me to comprehend.

A loud BANG! emits from both of the plane engines, and I whip around to see fire licking across the wings, heat enveloping the entire plane in seconds.

And then, we're falling.

I let out a yell as I slam into the seat in front of me, tumbling over it and crashing into Dr. Strange as the plane tilts unnaturally. Everyone is screaming and shouting at each other, ramming against the plane's inner sides as the wings are consumed by fire, completely wrecking the balance of the aircraft. I cry out again when the remaining body of the plane somersaults, and I hit my head on an object before flying away and slamming into something else.

I'm so dizzy I can barely think, but I manage to shoot a web and drag myself into a seat, clinging tightly onto it as the plane tumbles over and over again. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, trying not to puke, because with all this flipping around, the bile rising up my throat might as well land on someone's head.

My eyes fly open when I hear a thunderous splash.

Uh oh.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out we've hit the sea. Water starts rushing in, almost immediately putting out the fire. However, the sinking plane is a new problem we have to deal with.

I scramble over the seat, trying escape the incoming water. But then, without warning, the windows break inward; water rams into my chest, surging into the plane. It rushes in to fill every corner of the space, creating an inescapable vacuum.

And there's only silence.

I can't move. My head hurts. My chest hurts, and my eyes and nose sting from the seawater. My lungs are running out of air no matter how hard I try to claw my way to the surface.

Time stills.

Black spots dance across my vision as I struggle to hold in the last of my oxygen.

Then there's more silence.

And darkness.