The Hero from Hell

Part 7

Peter was a metre away from the hard gym floor, before Raine swooped in and caught him, crushing his body to hers. She dived onto the floor with him, cushioning his body with her smaller delicate one.
They lay in silence for a second before Raine let him go and stood up.
"Sorry," She apologised meekly. Peter looked bemused.
"Sorry? You caught me," he spluttered.
"But I also let you go," Raine whispered.
"You know, you're allowed to do that. You're training. I'm your dummy for the session."
Raine laughed.
And they resumed their training.
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It was a week after they injected me with Batch 64 . Or under another name, Death Juice. Nothing had happened. I certainly hadn't died. They kept me quarantined, nonetheless, until I'd forgotten what they tried to do to me. But I didn't forget.
It was after, I began experiencing strange things. Inhumane strength. I could rip a book apart, using one hand. I could crush a tin with my toe. I could unhinge a locked door.
Of course They noticed this.
They locked me away. In a dark. Foul. Damp room.
The only noises I heard were my own scratchy breathing. And Them moving.
Until I got a visit, one day. I remember the man. Huge. Muscled. American.
"We want you to do some jobs for us," he told me. "If not, then you'll be killed."
I didn't even mind the prospect of death at that point. Anything was better than this hellhole.
But then he threatened to murder my family.
My dishonest parents, if truth be told, would probably be better off dead.
But my baby sister.
She has the whole world ahead of her.
I couldn't take her away.
Of course that disgusting man lied. He told me she was still alive.
Even I didn't realise my whole family had been killed a long time ago.
So I agreed.
He set me up.
'Little jobs' he called them. Murder, in other words. I was sent on missions. To kill.
A year passed and I became a professional hitman.
An assassin.
It got me out of the hellhole at least.
But it didn't get me out of the pain.
I became a murderer.
At such a young age.
I was about sixteen when I'd had enough. And it all changed.
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Nat slipped into Steve's room and he smiled at her welcomingly.
"Hey asshole, I brought doughnuts," She grinned and he grinned in response, leaning forward and snatching the brown bag from her hands.
In less than a second, he'd already devoured a whole sugary doughnut. Jam decorated his top lip.
Nat laughed, before reaching forward and wiping it off for him.
"So, how you feeling, big guy?" she asked, slumping down onto his bed and placing her feet in his lap.
"Yeah I'm okay. Just feel a bit... Fragile. It's weird I just feel delicate. Like glass." he said. Nat understood.
"Well ya did crunch a lotta bones," She interjected. He nodded.
"And how are things, business wise?" he questioned.
Nat lay back and sighed.
"Well. I think the work with Raine is coming on well. Tony's looking into her today. And that alien man Heistroth, from Titan, he's making threats again. I think he's got Bruce on edge."
"And you?" Steve asked, beginning to massage Nat's feet. Oh he knew her well.
"Me? I'm not too stressed. Truthfully, I think that bastards got the ideas, but not the tools to carry them out, if ya know what I mean. He says he wants to wipe out all the Avengers. But I think that's an empty demand. There's no way Tony will let him get further than threats." Nat said.
Steve looked at her, studying his friend.
" But you're still worried. "He guessed.
Nat nodded slowly.
" How could I not be? I don't like him one bit, "She grumbled. Steve massaged her back and pulled her in for a comforting hug.
" I'd never let him hurt you Nat, "he whispered. She kicked him but hugged him back.

Tony leant back on his chair as evening descended. The sun gave up and sunk lower and lower, casting darkness wherever its eyes fell.
He'd been researching 'Raine Hunter' all day, but nothing was coming up. Nothing. Zilch.
He tried schools.
Missing person reports.
Even police databases.
Criminal records.
But nothing.
He grumbled loudly and poured some whisky into a glass.
What could this mean? Clearly 'Raine Hunter' did not exist. But why?
Why lie?
Why say that was her name?
Defense purposes?
Urgghhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Maybe she's a runaway or something, Tony's overrun mind suggested.
He was tired. And worked to the bone.
And sick of caffeine.
Of course, the one thing he needed was sleep.
But he had work to do.
"Ugh, fuck this," he complained and he changed into some sweatpants and a vest and made an attempt at a comfortable bed on his lab desk. He cleared away paperwork and random scraps of metal and electrical devices and was so exhausted that he climbed on and just fell asleep, amidst the small pile of chaos.
His snores echoed through the whole city, alerting everyone in the tower that Iron Man had finally succumbed to slumber.