"Have you ever asked yourself, do monsters make war, or does war make monsters?"<br />
-Laini Taylor
Former soldier and SHIELD agent, Johanna Hayes, is hired to help Steve Rogers track down his missing friend. They want to try and lure the Win...
Cover and banner art is by me. I post timelapses of my art on TikTok (Nine.Lives.Art)
(Disclaimer: No part of this story was created using generative AI. I do not authorize any part of this story to be scraped and/or used to train AI. My stories will be removed PERMANENTLY if I find out they have been used to train AI. I do not condone the use of AI for fanart/covers/banners/etc.).
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My heart was beating in a fast but steady rhythm. It was loud enough to drown out the sound of gunfire in the distance and the shouts of my friends and team from a nearby alley. All noise faded into the thumping, except for a sharp, persisting ringing in my left ear. I sat with my back pressed against the remains of a brick wall, doing everything I could to steady my breathing and ease the panic. The sky was still sending down a rain of debris and ash, which fluttered like snow in the hot courtyard. The rifle sitting across my lap felt heavy with the weight of guilt and the fear of what I'd have to do if I wanted to survive.
I'd been training for moments like this. I knew how to use the rifle. I learned how to follow orders and come out alive on the other end. But nothing could prepare a person for the reality of battle. At least nothing had prepared me for the reality of death. I'd watched two of my closest friends die right before my eyes. I could still feel their blood splattered on my face. My heart thudded wildly with adrenaline and fear. I wondered if I could have saved them. If I'd just used my gun when I still had the chance. If I hadn't frozen.
I knew this was spelling out the end for me. In some form or another, anyway. At the very least, the end of who I knew myself to be. It was pointless and silly to hold onto hope now. The rifle was trembling in my hands; my breathing was shaky and uneven. I knew in my heart that I'd never make it out of there alive. I'd probably die before I ever fired a single round. But I also knew I couldn't just sit there and wait for death to find me. I'd already taken refuge behind a wall like a coward. I was going to die whether I stayed there or not. If I knew anything at all, it's that I wasn't going to die hiding in fear.