cryptid
/cryp·tid/
noun
an animal that has been claimed to exist but never proven to exist
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The investigation of cryptid creatures from the general public sparked interest within SHIELD's Enh...
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"There will be blood in the water."
Grand Forks, North Dakota November, 1995
THE ground shook– Vay zipped across the truck as she avoided the weapons flying back and forth across the inside of the truck. Tables crashed, cots rammed into the sides– Papa moved fast, kicking open the truck doors while grabbing a rifle and pointing his weapon. Vay zipped right next to him, her two wings not doing so great keeping her up in the air. She landed next to Papa, who slowly lowered his rifle, head tilting to the side.
His eyes were dark as he turned to face the Commander, who was recovering from being rocked back and forth by the sudden explosion having occurred beneath them. He pulled himself to his feet, Agent Merce and Agent Caddel groaning in pain.
Commander Rumlow's eyes were sharp as he grabbed a rifle on the ground, swinging it over his chest while removing his pistol from his hip, pointing it towards the open doors. He stepped next to Papa before taking a step forward.
He let loose three low quick tones.
Vay instantly rose into the air again, flying with effort as she zipped outside of the truck and around it. They were somewhere cold, snow covering the ground on either side of them. There was ice too, but that's not what had made the truck jump into the air and turn on its side.
She looked back and forth, scanning their surroundings for any danger– any targets.
After a few minutes of finding nothing, she returned to the front of the truck. Papa jumped out of the truck, landing with a crouch. His eyes wandered around them, before looking back at the Commander again, his eyes just as dark, if not darker.
Commander Rumlow clenched his jaw, realization starting to appear in his eyes. He glanced back at the rest of the STRIKE team, who were currently arming themselves and waiting for further instruction. Uncle Rollins traveled forward, his expression stoic as he exited the truck, carrying two duffel bags of items.
"What the hell happened?" Agent Westfahl grimaced as he leapt out of the truck, wincing as he landed on his leg, which was definitely somewhat sprained. "I was sleeping and the next thing I know we're being thrown all over the place."
"I don't fuckin' know. I was trying to nap too and the fuckin' truck just exploded." Agent Merce replied, wincing at the cut on her forehead.
"Who the fuck even knew we were coming this way? Far as I know, no one but HYDRA knows about our safehouses." Agent Barlowe huffed.
