The Avenger's soulmate

Prologue

The cracked screen alighted in flashing numbers and the alarm clock began to holler: Domestic sirens flood through the small apartment, waiting to be silenced–they won't be.

There was a crack in the door, a shoulder jamming into the splintering oak–a second. The slab was battered down, hitting the floor as the familiar voices began to screech. Men gushed through the entrance, guns raised and firing. The child stirred at the second ring of the alarm, but no sooner had she moved than gloved hands seized her body. Her mother screamed. Her father was on the floor. With a harsh yank, the five-year-old was hauled towards the door, confused and screaming. Tiny limbs ripped in all directions, kicking and punching. The crumpled body of her parents was swiftly torn from view. The girl was dragged down the corridor, still fighting, biting, and howling; Like a desperate animal, she fought. Yells of anger pursued, tearing from her kidnapper's mouth. She did not hear them. Her mother's screams rang in her head even as they died out. It's what kept her fighting. Masked faces leered down at her, darkened eyes glaring at this writhing form. Someone grabbed her legs, pulling them together, making it harder for her to flail. And she still did, wriggling and screaming. Fear hammered her skill. Tears leaked down her face and she began to beg, calling for her father, her mother—anyone.

A blow to her stomach silenced her. Air flooded from her lungs, she gasped and spluttered.

With gritted teeth and teary eyes, she did not stop. She would not–not even as the needle slid into her vein. Wide eyes began to droop and fall, gaze fading. It was getting darker. Her parents were dead, maybe her brother too, but never her. This sort of thing happened to other people. It could not be this family, this little girl. It wouldn't. It couldn't...