The fire

Cliff Diving

The whole village had been abandoned by The Mort. They were smarter than most, to stay and fight was silly. This time they couldn't win. This is one of the reasons they were so scary, unlike HYDRA and most generic baddies, they knew their limits.

Hulk was clumping around smashing rafters of wood against the shiny cars that remained. Clint was pulling Tony out from under some rubble whilst Captain America carried a shivering Natasha out of the chalet. Thor was the first to notice, already peeling off his big red cloak. As Steve placed her carefully on the floor, the god wrapped her in the warm material, pulling her into him, as to share body heat. The two men exchanged conversation. Clint and Tony noticed as well, they headed over, Clint kneeling down next to his partner.

Elizabeth Garcia however was no longer stuck in that horrid prison. She was stood opposite her mother, eyes burning ember, she was ready to kill.

-

The dehydrated grass was causing my toes to itch. Just like the boiling sun was burning my skin.

I didn't care. My senses felt heightened, why had I started healing, why were my powers working? Who knew, who cared-

The only thing that mattered now was her. My hate for this woman grew by the minute, every particle in my body was telling me to blow the bitch up, to make her suffer what I had. Each vein, artery, capillary in my body was tingling with heat. I would kill her or die trying. I would watch her squirm, wait till she begged for mercy then - then she would be gone.

"I have nowhere to run now. You have your wish." She sounded scared. Who wouldn't be? Behind her was a hundred foot drop into a rocky quarry and in front of her was me.

Ropes of flames wrapped around her wrists, she screamed as I pulled them tighter. "Noo-oooooooo, p-please stop!" The excruciating pain she was in didn't make me feel better. It made me hurt more. I felt weird suddenly different, like I hadn't been in control. Cally sat panting for breath, tears falling steadily down her pale cheeks. She held her sizzled arms tightly.

"Do you know what they did to me?" I asked, now crying myself. I didn't actually want to kill her, just wanted her to feel what I had felt. "What really happened that night after you died." My heart stabbed with pain as I spoke. "After you died I was knocked out and stuffed in a box. Holes in the top of course so I could breath. Do know how many days I was left cramped in that tiny mahogany cage? Three days! That's thirty six hours cramped in a tiny space, no food, no drink. My throat was so itchy I went mad not being able to scratch it. My stomach ached for food, hunger so bad I thought my insides would eat themselves. I was six, six years old! Most girls my age were skipping or playing hopscotch. Not living in a box." Cally opened her trembling lips to speak, I cut her off. "Then when we finally arrived at the base, who was the first person I lay eyes upon? Thomas Garcia, my amazing papa. He didn't hug me or tell me everything would be alright like I had imagined in my time alone, in fact he practically ignored me. All he said was 'she's all yours.' And for 3 years they tortured, admired, loved, beat, trained me- I even killed... My own father stabbed me with powers I didn't even want. I was experimented on!" I was in floods of tears now, Cally was sprawled terrified on the floor, sobbing loudly. I kicked her hard in the shin. "YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO CRY! YOU COULD OF COME AND GOT ME." She desisted her gargled cries. So instead streams of water continued to silently trail down her cheeks. "You could have stopped the machines-you were there all along." My voice trailed off for a second. I suddenly felt odd, flashes of screaming and images seared in my mind. "You chose them- them over me." I whispered.

"This shouldn't hurt at all." I looked down, a gaping hole in my chest.

"No, you're not allowed to cry." I stared into the distance, the clouds were so pretty, so fluffy.