Kidnapped

23

Damn, making my sick self sad over here :,)

I sat there in tears as Rogers rushed over. "Oh, my god, Peter!" He took the corpse from me, "What did you do?!" He yelled at me. An image of my drunk father flashed through my mind, yelling at me as a bottle shattered against the wall.

"Stark, get in here!" He yelled, laying Peter on his stomach.

Stark rushed in, ready to blow a wall out. He caught sight of Peter, his fire blasters moving to me. He fired, sending me into the wall. My skull cracked against the cement brick, my vision going blurry. I blinked it off, sitting up.

"Why did you hurt him?!" He yelled, opening his mask. He was clearly offended.

I looked back down at Peter, who gets picked up by Rogers. "I'm taking him to the med-bay."

"I can fly, I'm faster. Deal with Bela, give me the kid."

He carefully took Peter in his arms, smashing a hole in the ceiling as he didn't bother using the door behind him.

My mind couldn't help but make the joke: Well. I guess you can say he took the kids.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again and again.

Nori spoke calmly, "you did the right thing."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!" I tore the piece from my ear, chucking it across the classroom. "I killed him. Oh, god, I killed Peter. Oh my god,"

I sat against the wall, tangling my fingers in my hair. "I killed him, I killed him, I killed Peter, I killed him, I killed my best friend,"

"Hey," Rogers knelt in front of me. He reached out, unaware of the knife still in my hand. I lashed out, the tip burying deep in his throat.

"Leave me alone!" I stole my blade back, blood spurting everywhere. He fell to the ground, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

I ran out. Wanda didn't see me coming, and I put a bullet in her head. Bodies were scattered everywhere, every girl identical to Nat and every boy, Peter. I spun around.

There's no way out. I'm trapped here.

Stark came up from behind, blasting me into the wall. Damn, why does the tower have to be so close?

"You did this to me!" I screamed, shooting him twice. The bullet ricocheted off his shoulders, forcing them back. He walked forward, towards me.

"I haven't done anything to you. Your blades and guns got nothin' on me, kid."

"I'm not a child!" I yelled, lunching at him. He dodged and I slip past him, facing his back. I shoved the blade downward into the metal where the helmet connected to the rest of the suit, forcing it as far as I could. Sparks flew out and I shoved it to the side, tearing something in the suit. There was a terrible mechanical hum before I grabbed the helmet and twisted it, wires snapping and sparking.

Stark spun around to push me off but I slit the blade across his throat, then stabbed him in the neck again and again. With every jab, he made a different choking sound.

I think the 5th one sounded most satisfying, to be honest.

I tossed his body aside, running away. I ran down a long hall, doors on either side, but none of them leading out. Everywhere I looked, Peters and Nats lay scattered across the ground, dead or dying.

I give up. I fell to my knees, clutching my chest. I dropped my weapons, doubling over. I screamed. No one could hear me. They're all dead; I screamed as loud as I could, letting it out. It's too much.

I backed against the wall, right across from a closed and locked door that teens had escaped from. They wouldn't return so soon, so I sat there. I sat there and cried. I let my guard down for no one to step over,

It was all my fault. Not Peters, not Starks. Not Madams, even. It was mine. I went for a walk that night, long ago. It was my choice, I wanted to get out. I got my friend killed, I got his dad killed, I got Nat killed, and I killed the rest. Now all that's left to kill is myself.

I picked my head up, my nose runny and my vision blurry. My head throbbed, pain piercing my brain with every pulse. I eyed the knife I dropped to the ground.

Should I move? Pick it up, cut my wrist, let it all be over? I won't see Nat or Peter; I'm not going to Heaven. If it exists.

My muscles ached telling me not to move. Everything in me said don't do it, but there was just a single glint of light against the red-coated silver that made me hunger for it.

I reached for it with my shoe, pulling it over. I picked it up, turning it in my hand, then cleaning it off on my sleeve. So much for a nice suit.

I rolled up my sleeve, revealing the many other scars. Battle or not, they're mine, and they last. I slid the metal vertically up my arm.

The blade clattered to the floor. I'm making this one last. This one has to last the longest.

I rested my head in between my knees, cradling my bloody arm against my chest.

No more tears. No more crying. No more anger. No more hate.

Freedom is coming.

I don't know how long I sat there, waiting to die. I just drifted into thought, wading through the darkness.

There was a presence beside me, who took a seat on the cold tile, resting an arm over me shoulders. The arm pulled me over, my head resting in her lap.

The ceilings lights were blinding, barely giving me a chance to see who it was.

Short, white hair, but a smile that lit up the world. I reached up and touched her face, running my fingers over the soft skin of her cheek.

"Your times not up just yet," she said kindly. Her eyes were trusting, yet familiar.

I squinted, my vision fading. "Nat?"

What if I just ended the story here 🌝