Can't you just text me before you come over like any normal person?

Part 8

1 year ago

Missy had just finished her first day at her new workplace. SHEILD had had two coveted openings for an administrative assistant and after weeks of aptitude tests, interviews and security clearances she had finally secured the position.

She had moved to New York five months ago and had spent the entire time waitressing and eating into her savings to pay rent. She had waited tables to pay for college so the work wasn't new to her, but she was 29 and she had graduated years ago with a good degree. Right now she wanted more... So working for one of the most prestigious government agencies in the world, was an exciting prospect to her.

She had spent the day being given various passes, being shown where to go (and more importantly, where not to go), introduced to people she would never remember the names of, and shown her work station.

She was now exhausted. Pushing open the door to her tiny apartment she removed her coat, shrugging it from her tired shoulders and placed down her bag.

It was a Friday evening. The had shown her everything today so that she could start properly on Monday. Of this Missy was glad, it meant she could have the weekend to relax, chill out and prepare for a full week at her new job.

She kicked off her black patent heels and padded into her bedroom.

She was going to get into some sweat pants, tie her hair up, order an extra-large pizza and binge watch The Walking Dead. And that for her, was going to a productive evening.

In her bedroom she pulled open a drawer, absent-mindedly humming a rubbish pop song she'd heard on the subway as she did so.

She didn't even notice a quiet tapping on the window behind her...

Missy pulled out a tank top and turned around.

Her eyes widened into orbs as she gazed up...

Lying across the ledge outside her window was what looked like a grown man dressed head to toe in red and black spandex. His masked face and shoulder were pressed up against the glass, but he looked pretty out of it, his head lolling to one side.

Missy could see that the front of his suit was soaked in, what looked like, blood.

She took a step back and gave a startled cry.

The man slid further down the glass. He looked very badly hurt and obviously wasn't conscious.

Should she ring the police? Her first instinct was to run into the living room and grab her cell from her bag... but before she could stop herself she tentatively took a step closer to the window.

...and another...

...and another...

From here she could see three huge gashes that ran across the length of the man's chest. Blood had now begun to pool on the ledge beneath him.

Before she could stop herself, with shaking hands Missy had prised open the window...

Before she had a chance to cry out or grab hold of him, the masked man had come tumbling through the open window and sprawled out on her bedroom floor.

Missy scrabbled backwards and pressed a hand to her mouth, holding in a whimper.

She stared at him for a long moment.

He was tall, with broad shoulders and strong arms. His whole body was covered in leather and spandex, including his face which was obscured by a tight mask.

Maybe he was a superhero. She'd never seen one in real life but she'd certainly seen them on the news enough.

Suddenly he let out a noise.