It's just so much to process in such a short span of time. I have a crush on Peter Parker—who just so happens to be Spiderman, the Avengers are at war with each other, and my step-dad is probably a mad scientist. And there's barely been any time to really think about any of it. Any time I even try to untangle the knots, I seem to get even more intertwined in them. Not to mention, the immediate panic the mere thought it all brings.
I try to remind myself that I'm not alone. Dad is doing everything he can to make this alright, and Steve is simply following his heart and beliefs, which I can't deny having a sound sense of logic in certain aspects.
The Accords are honestly terrifying. Agent Ross has already made it abundantly clear that I fall under the current umbrella of their authority. I don't even know why since I'm not an official Avenger and still a minor. But—that apparently means nothing—I've been told if I don't follow the rules they set, I'll be seen as an international criminal too.
It makes me want to scream as I change into my pajamas and climb into my coffin. The tension that I finally got rid of by my afternoon with Peter is back in full force, and my head throbs as I try to process everything.
All it would take is one slip up—one time of getting caught on patrol without someone's permission, and I'll be locked away in a super-secret, mega-max security prison. My stomach feels queasy at the idea of it all.
Not to mention, I still have to figure out what Jim's doing at OSCORPS. There's something wrong about it. I can feel it in my chest. I'm missing something—something important that might just make sense of it all.
It feels like everything useful is just outside my reach, and each time I get close, it's gone. It's the endless cycle that keeps swirling through my head as I tuck myself into the coffin for the night of restless sleep.
Voices echo around me. The mix of low and high tones jumble together like the strange words they're using. I can hear them close by, but all I can make out are the shadows of their looming figures.
My limbs try to move, but something rough rubs against my skin and holds them in place. It sends my heart pounding in a futile attempt to get out of my chest. Fear settles in, and questions roll through my head.
One of the monsters leans over me. Sounds come from him, but I can't see a mouth moving. Instead, there's a patch where it should be, and it stretches and pulls as the noises pour out of him. The only visible, familiar feature is the eyes—a cold and deep icy blue.
A cold hand clamps on my inner elbow. I try to look down to see what's happening, but only spot a flash of blue before a sharp pain.
Fire pours into my veins. It's a burning that can only compare to the full Supernova trapped beneath my skin. The fire of a dying star's energy pumping through my veins.
My jaw clenches as I writhe and scream in unparalleled pain. The rubber mouthguard pokes at my cheeks and keeps me from biting my tongue or cracking my teeth. I can feel the energy boiling and trying to escape as my muscles spasm from whatever they're putting into me.
For a second, the shadows clouding my vision clears, and I can see the two monsters around me better than before. They watch me with rapt attention, using their strange blue hands to scrawl things down as they mumble things to another.
Something in me shifts at the sight of those blank faces and gleaming eyes. It's almost as if they're enjoying this—to know that I'm watching them in immense pain, and they would rather watch than do anything helpful. All I can feel is hate for them because of it.
I hate everything about them. Everything from the gleeful eyes, blank faces, blue, clawed hands, and patch mouths. I despise it all.
The pain of the energy fades in a dull pulsing that falls in time with my heartbeat. They continue to watch and whisper. Something in my chest pulls at my anger, the hurt, the fury. Another yell erupts from my throat as the tugging gets stronger, and I force my limbs free with a rush of strength and pain.
YOU ARE READING
The REM Trials
Fanfiction"They've been there for me. My shadows have been my best friends for as long as I can remember. They were there when no one else was." Amelia Bright is--remarkable. In more ways than most people know. Because, while most people see a bright, young s...
