Nightmare (Avengers/Steve Rogers Fanfic)

Intro

Hi! My name is Madyson. If you ever plan on contacting me, please call me Madie😊. I am currently 12 and I am at the summer in between 6th and 7th grade. I am probably telling you too much about myself but I don't care. YOLO. So now a much more interesting topic, the book that you came here for in the first place.

I sadly do not own S.H.I.E.L.D., Avengers or anything like that. But when I grow up, I will buy Marvel, and then will rule the WORLD!!! I mean, um, yeah, Marvel. I will buy Marvel. Yeah. Moving on. So, the only thing I own in this book is Mortem/Subject 232, and a few other characters I might add into the book.

~•~

I sprinted down the halls, the guards taking shots after me. I flew down the stairs and tripped, collapsing on the ground below. I flipped over while on the ground so I was facing up. I heard a single gunshot, and a white-hot pain hit my chest like a brick in the face. I yelped in pain. This pain felt different then the pain when they shoved the needles into me or beat me for being "bad". That pain was spread out, washing it in agony. But this was much worse. All that pain was concentrated to a small point, making it 100 times worse then the needles or the beatings.

I scrambled to the door. I shoved it open, breathing in the air (which proved to be more challenging then before). I thought it would be fresh, but was surprised to have it sour, and laced with exhaust. I had just ran out of a not-so-abandoned warehouse. I coughed and hacked, praying for the sulfur-like air to come out of my system.

I ran into an alley, hoping to find something to sleep on. I came across a dead end, with a pile of junk and trashcans all over the place. I decided to try and check my wound before I do anything else. I sat on the ground, pulling my top over my head so I can look at it.

I looked at the hole that now occupied my chest. I testily poked it and almost screamed out in pain, but gasped instead. No sudden movements while getting this thing out of me. Got it. I'll have to try and nurse it out of me.

I grabbed a perfectly fine pair of tweezers from the junk and grabbed a piece of metal that stuck out from my chest. I gently tugged, with a slight twinge of pain but no avail.

"Oh, great," I thought.

I prepared myself for what I was about to do. I took a deep breath in, and yanked as hard as I could.

Burning pain fell over me. I wailed out in complete agony, and curled in on myself. After a few moments I forced myself to stand. I pulled my shirt on and searched in the junk some more, until I found a halfway decent piece of cloth and an old tape roll. I taped the cloth to my wound before looking again. I found a threadbare sheet with a matching comforter, and a pillow with the stuffing coming out of it. Not bad for a pile of junk. I also found a refrigerator box (just like Tyson from Percy Jackson!) and made a makeshift home out of it by making a bed out of the sheet, comforter, and pillow, and turning the box upside-down.

I snuggled in the surprisingly comfortable bed. I lay there for a while before sleep took me, unknowing of its tortures, into it's shadowy depths.

~•~

Jello! Wondering how she knows Percy Jackson? Don't worry. In time, all will be revealed!

So um...yeah.

Bye!

🐢