☑ THE SHADOW | Peter Maximoff

f o r t y - s i x

~ 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚 ~

Winning against Kiselyov didn't seem like an option any longer. Amara just needed to drag it out, as long as fucking possible. Peter was tired. He was trying so hard to get the others. He needed all the time she could give him.

Fight. Fight him. Fight him.

She stood up and lunged forward, her head bowed and her torso ready. Unfortunately, Kiselyov was in a much better (and healthier) state than she was. He grabbed Amara as soon as she reached him and threw her off to the side, then accompanied his move by smashing her head against the ground.

What are you doing?

Her back screamed at her as he threw her against another wall. Turns out this guy had only two moves he recycled. He'd smash her head against the ground, throw her against a wall, repeat. Sometimes he'd throw in a good right hook to her jaw or nose. He'd never let her forget his creepy smile, or that he was having a jolly good time and laughing his way through this endeavor.

Get up, Amara, get up.

She tried to get up, but Kiselyov grabbed her by the throat and struck her again, and she was another lump on the floor.

What the hell is your problem? Fight him!

Her hands reached into her hair and pulled tightly, begging for the throbbing of her head to go away. It pounded. Her entire body was on fire, yet completely numb at the same time. It was the weirdest phenomenon she had ever felt.

"Look at me, dorogaya," Kiselyov said, pulling on her hair to force her to look up at him. She groaned. "Stop this madness. We can work together."

Amara didn't remember breathing being such a difficult thing to do, nor keeping her body up enough to sit. Nevertheless, she forced herself to look at him, fighting through the blood creeping up her throat.

"Fuck... you."

Her body fell to the floor after another blow to the head.

Fucking hell, you're useless.

It's voice never hurt as much as it did at that moment. It was like It was scratching against her skull, forcing its way out in a way that could never be possible.

The comments didn't exactly help, either. She already knew what a useless piece of shit she was. Even if she hadn't heard it from the hundreds of other people that had to voice their opinions, she had the joy that was her mutation to remind her of her own insecurities every day.

This is exactly why you're the most pathetic person I've ever seen, Amara. You can't do shit. It's all me.

Her body curled into a tight ball. The pain ached all over, internally, externally, in her head and in her ears, clouding all of her senses. Kiselyov kicked her in the ribs and turned her over. She couldn't stop him from climbing over her. She couldn't fight off his hands, which wrapped around her neck tightly.

I'm the reason you're so powerful. I'm the reason you can do the impossible. It's all me. I should be the one in charge. I should make the calls, not you.

He said something about making her listen, but she only knew that because she read his lips. She couldn't hear anything going on around her. Only the increasingly louder voice of her mutation.

If I were in control, Peter would have been ours, mine, a long time ago.

She had no idea why Kiselyov punched her in the face again, but he most certainly did, then tightened his grip on her windpipe. Her fingers dug into his arms and her legs spasmed uncontrollably. She couldn't fight him off. Her vision slowly faded.

You're the problem, Amara. It's always been you. You've always been holding me back.

She wasn't in control of her body anymore. She didn't tell her hand to grab onto Kiselyov's forearm, but it did, and it gripped tightly.

You make me sick. You're the reason we can't have Peter.

His veins. His veins were turning black. His skin was melting off his arm. She couldn't even hear him screaming. His shouting was completely silent. The black veins spread all across his face and neck, and he oozed a black sludge that looked eerily similar to what she was experiencing before.

Open your fucking eyes.

Kiselyov was shoved backward, and hard. So hard that he hit a wall, and when his head lolled to face Amara, his eyes were lifelessly staring back at her. The black sludge dripped out of his mouth and ears.

She couldn't even react.

You're the problem.

Her body lifted into the air, suddenly and forcefully. She couldn't stop her neck and back from curling backward, her hands out and her body lifeless. Her insides hurt so bad, it was like they were being yanked out of her body, and it didn't dissipate for the longest time.

She didn't know when or how the black mist of her mutation filled the room, but it did, and it swirled everywhere, like a tornado.

Peter will be mine.

Amara's body fell on the stone like a floppy rag doll. She didn't care about how she felt. She didn't care about the pain covering every square inch of her body.

Her hand reached forward, grabbing onto the nearest stone piece to hoist herself up, no matter how much it hurt.

She felt empty on the inside. Something was missing. Something was wrong.

Her plan to move to Canada was rescheduled to right the fuck now. She couldn't see Peter ever again. Something was wrong. She couldn't hurt him. She had to leave. She had to get out of there. She had to be alone for the rest of her life.

A breath on her ear made her freeze. She could feel it; the presence behind her. Something was behind her.

"All I have to do is get rid of you."

Amara turned around slowly.

Her instincts screamed at her.

She turned around and listened.

Amara ran.

*****

w/c: 1005

a/n: only a few chapters left, guys!! do you think you know what's going to happen? lemme know what you think!! xx