Hellish (Steve Rogers Fan Fiction)

T h i r t y O n e

Alex felt bad for lying to Steve, especially when he was finally trusting her. However, her guilt didn't last long. Just after she arrived at her temporary hotel room in London, Steve's cellphone was found in the bottom of her duffle bag.

Alex knew there was no way it would've gotten in there on accident. It was simple common sense. All of her phones had no way of being tracked. His could be. He was tracking her.

She felt a little annoyed by the action but at the same time, she was relieved. He'd be able to find her body easier.

Alex had lied horribly to Steve. She wasn't meeting with someone to discuss the chip. She was meeting with Jakande to discuss her. She knew it would be messy and she also knew that if she didn't give him what he wanted—which happened to be the chip at this point in time—she'd end up dead simply because she was becoming more of a liability than she could ever be an asset.

Alex tried not to pace the hotel room but she couldn't help it. Her duffle bag remained on the floor beside the bed while she paced.

About ten minutes after she arrived, there was a knock at the door. It opened all the way. There stood Thaddeus Jakande. Alone.

"Hello, Alex." He smirked. "I believe you have something that belongs to me."

"Cue evil cackle." She muttered, slipping a pocket knife out of her pants pocket. "I don't have it on me."

"Too bad." He took a step into the room. A Bowie knife was pulled from a holster on his belt. "I guess I'll have to cut its location out of you."

•*•*•

"Alex?" Steve spoke quietly as he knocked on the door to her hotel room. The door opened just slightly, causing him to become concerned. He pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped in.

The lights were out but the curtains were wide open, allowing the bright moon to shine light into the room.

Steve turned on the lights, and that was when panic set in.

All of Alex's belongings were pulled out of her bag and strung across the room. One of the little tables in the room was broken, a body had been slammed down on to it no doubt. The mirror above the dresser was shattered and blood was smeared across the shards of mirror-glass. The carpet was stained with drops, little and big, of blood here and there. The curtains were pulled off of the curtain rods and they were in the floor with the same crimson red on them.

"Alex!" Steve moved to look for her frantically. He began to go towards the bathroom but stopped short of reaching the bathroom door. There were three handprints on the door and the knob was covered in blood.

Steve's heart stopped beating loudly. It stopped beating all together as he opened the bathroom door. The light was off and Steve didn't want to turn it on. He was afraid of what he'd find. But when he did turn the light on, he took a step back and nearly gasped.

The mirror in the bathroom was also broken. The porcelain sink had blood smeared all across the once white top.

In the tub lay Alex. One of her legs was thrown over the side of the tub. One arm rested on her torso. There was blood everywhere.

Steve swallowed the softball-sized lump in his throat and ran to her side, collapsing to his knees by the tub.

"Alex! Alex!" He tried to be loud, to be strong enough so she'd be awake and be strong too. But his voice was weak. Steve checked her pulse just below her neck. It was barely there but he could feel it.

"Alex!" He screamed at her, his tears blurring the red sight of her. "Alexa, come on! Open your eyes!"

He did his best to cover her wounds but it was hard to tell where the blood started and stopped. Was it even stopping? Did it have a starting point?