HADES // T. STARK DAUGHTER // MARVEL I.I

7 ~ MONSTER ~ 7

Neither of the other girls left were talking. Not to me, barely to each other. Both seemed to be in some sort of shock, though they still fought like their lives depended on it. Which it did, I realize.

Harry had just gotten worse. Once or twice someone caught me screaming at someone that wasn't there. But he just became more real. I could see the details of each scar he bared, notice where the mending was on his sweatshirt, hear the tap of his shoes against the cement ground. And I hated him. I hated him so much, I thought I was going insane. This person, who I hadn't seen since I was eight. I couldn't know all of those details, especially with how my mind was right now.

My mind, what a funny thing it had become. I had forgotten what my father's face looked like, the color of his eyes, if he had a beard or not. I couldn't remember any music, not even a tune. I couldn't even remember some names. My uncle, the lady with the red hair, the man who protected us. Anything that wasn't Hydra, Hydra, Hydra had slowly slipped away from me each night. The injections had stopped, but I was still so . . . so foggy. It seemed as though with every night my brain got worse and Harry got more real.

And then there were the abilities. I hadn't developed any. They said I had, but nothing ever happened. No laser vision or super strength, nothing. Just. . . stupidity.

It made me insane. I mean, my entire life as a Stark, I had been valued, cared about, seen, just because of my brain. I was a prodigy, a genius, just like my father and grandfather. I was smart. But now, I had lost that. I had lost what made me, me.

Each night, I was hit with another one of those memories getting dragged away from me. Eventually, I blamed Harry. The figment of my imagination that was getting much too real. My brother, my hero, had become the monster under my bed.

And he was making me a monster too.

**

It started with a guard.

The three of us were eating, the 'food' not much more than chunks of meat and stale bread. The older-looking man went to grab away the tray, when it was almost empty of its contents. And before I knew it, I had slashed out at him, tackling him to the ground, clawing at him as I shouted, red in the face from my anger.

A week or so later, I killed someone. Another guard.

After training, they tried to bring us back to the cell and I thrashed out again. This time, they weren't quick enough to get me off. I had smashed his head into the concrete, again and again. I didn't even wince when I saw the blood covering me afterward, or how it clung to me the days afterward.

The encounters got more frequent, and so did the punishments. Eventually, almost unsurprisingly, I attacked one of the girls. It was Zeus.

It was right before we hit the showers, a rare experience. She went to pick up my drooping towel and I flipped. I launched at her, a growl ripping through my throat. My hands found her arms, leaving marks sure to bruise. But just as quick as I had attacked, sharp, painful volts of electricity overwhelmed me. I was rendered useless, falling to the ground, twitching.

When I woke up, I was alone, in an empty cell, no bed, no windows, nothing but an iron door. I pressed myself into a corner, shaking slightly as I realized what I had done. And tears threatened to spill over as a laugh overpowered me. That was the last thing I remember before Harry, Hades, whatever it was, took over.