Kill Your Mind ⋙ Avengers

f i v e

[E D I T E D]

KILL YOUR MIND
❝life is simply a mix of mayhem and magnolias, so embrace this gentle riot and gather flowers along the way.❞

05. Backstabbing Betrayals

HONESTLY, THINGS COULD HAVE GONE A LOT WORSE than they had done. The journey to the headquarters continued in silence, aside from the constant line of amazement coming from Katherine as she sat alongside Natasha Romanoff at the front of the jet, and it was only properly broken when the two girls were split upon arrival. After landing, troops of agents flooded in like ants and the pair were dragged apart kicking and screaming. The two avengers, so called heroes, simply watched from afar in regret as they shrieked hysterically for them to help and grasped onto each other as though they were their lifeline. Elizabeth kept desperately trying to use her 'curse' but she was already too weak from a combination of lack of sleep, lack of energy, and a lack of ingested food which only seemed to increase her rage.

Eventually, they were both sedated.

Being dragged along the floor, being held up by two men on either side of her, Elizabeth simply stared at her feet. She was dancing on the thin line between consciousness, unable to utilize her powers whilst so drugged, and the agents hold on her upper arms were only bruising her worse. Her head lolled to the side every now and again. With the tips of her toes barely grazing the floor below her, she could briefly see Natasha and Clint barking orders in front of her and the familiar twang of betrayal pains her chest alongside the persistent tugs towards Clint.

It felt like only a few seconds of resting her eyes but by the time she'd opened them, she was sat and bound to a chair with a table lamp glaring in her face. Everything hurt and the feeling of the blinding light reminded her of a hangover. A really fucking bad hangover.

❝Jesus Christ, I didn't know pirates were still around. You lose your eyeball or just rolling with the aesthetic?❞

Elizabeth Tyler groans, finally focusing on the man sat opposite her, and gets a good look at her interrogator. He wasn't young, obviously not in his twenties anymore, but he also didn't look a moment away from forgetting his own name. He was sporting a memorable black patch over his left eye and yet his death glare didn't seem to waver for a moment. The room they were in was small. Obviously only there for the purpose of getting information. What information they wanted; Elizabeth didn't have a clue.

❝Miss Tyler, my name is Nick Fury and I'm going to ask you a series of questions of which you will tell me the truth. Avoid the question and our methods will become more - well - persuasive.❞

The silence was deafening. Director Fury simply stared at her with a steel eye that never shied away from her responding glare. He was sat, looking at her through a single hostile slit, awaiting her response but Elizabeth could only protect herself with the only way she knew how. With a defence mechanism engrained in her since her times in the hell hole she escaped from; she was pretty sure she wasn't going to last long. Deflection could only get one individual so far.