Clint and the seven deadly sins

Greed

Greed at top.

Clint's POV

I walked through the Avengers tower. There was some shield agents throughout some of the levels. I passed quite a few of them, until I saw one of them with high tech hearing aids. They were able to stay hidden from anyone. The only reason why I was able to see them was that he was fixing the sound on them.

Want filled my mind, until Greed took over.

"You want that. Just take it, it's not that hard." Greed.

"I can't, he'll tell everyone. I'll get kicked out of the Avengers." I tried to reason with him.

"Then kill him. You need it more than he does. I know you want it. And I know you're capable of killing without anyone knowing. You're extremely stealthy." Greed whispered some more.

By that time, the guy with the hearing aids was next to me. He gave me looks like I was crazy. Of course, he heard me talking to Greed.

I still couldn't stop thinking about those hearing aids. I wanted them, I wanted them so much that it seems like a need. It filled my mind, making me crazy for them.

Before I realized it, I threw my hand over his mouth and put him in a head lock. I snapped his neck, making him dead weight. I dragged him to an empty room, making sure no one saw. I found the room to be one of the new ones, everything was wrapped in plastic. I laid him on the floor, making sure the floor was covered in plastic.

I use my pocket knife and tried to rip his limbs apart. I got it enough to where I can bend him into a ball. I wrapped him in plastic, pulling him through the vent. I threw him in the dumpster, after I snatched his hearing aids. I done all this while Greed laughed. Pride started praising me.

I crawled through the vents, hopping down into my room. I washed the blood the best I could and put on new clothes. I stuffed my blood stained clothes in a bag, needing to burn them later.

I finished and laid down on my bed. Realization hit me. Did I just murder someone for Greed?! I started freaking out. I was hyperventilating, pulling my hair out. I got under my covers, letting sleep take over. I sat the hearing ads in my drawer and fell asleep with sloth telling me to slit my throat, to get a longer rest.

I woke up in the middle of the night. I thought I fell asleep in the middle of the day? I put in the hearing aids I stole. I needed them so why wouldn't I wear it? I found my razor and cut a few deep wounds on my chest. I covered them up, so it won't bleed through my clothes. I looked through the tower and found it empty, well almost empty. I walked into the kitchen and found Peter Parker sitting down with a bowl of cereal.

"What are ya doing up, kid?" I questioned.

"Oh! Hey Mr. Hawk, sir. I just got hungry. Why are you up?" He shot the question back.

"Can't sleep." I simply replied. I made a huge cup of coffee with one of those gigantic cups. I poured some cocoa puff in the coffee, mixing in a little bit of milk. I sat across from Peter, with Gluttony talking about how good coffee and cereal looks together. I grunted in agreement, having Peter look at me weird. Like I was an alien, or some shit.

"What?" I snarled. His eyes was glued to me, like he was scared. Wrath kept telling me to bash his brains out. "Shit, sorry, kid. I have a lot of shit on my mind." I tried to apologize, I didn't want the kid scared of me.

"It's okay. I'm use to it." That stole my attention.

"What?" I said kind of loud, making him flinch. Anger was raising again, making it known that Wrath is talking me into hurting something, or trying to.

"It's nothing." He mumbled. I stared at him for a while until he broke down. "It's just that Aunt May works all day so she's normally tired and stressed so I get the bad end. Tony is always busy with new technology, skipping days of sleep. And he takes it out on me sometimes. Plus, no one in the Avengers thinks I should be here. I'm just a kid in Captain America's eyes, but I'm almost eighteen! I can't keep up with anybody. Even Black widow won't practice with me. I want to get better so I can start pulling my weight, but no one will train with me. I'm just a kid, I'll get hurt."

I was at a lost for words. That was most of my childhood. My Father would be pissed at me, blaming me. I would get empty bottles chucked at me. And my brother never would hang with me cause I was just a kid.

"Well, if ya ever need to practice, just hit me up. I need a partner anyways. I'm not much of a challenge for Natasha." I told him honestly. He gave a confused look. "Natasha is Black Widow."

His face softened to realization. "OK, I'll definitely tell you when I want to practice. That is if you're not busy." He had a bright smile plastered on his face.

"To be honest, practicing is better than anything. Whenever you're in the mood to practice, hit me up even if I'm busy. I normally want to get out of anything. Practicing helps that." His smile grew at my words.

"I kind of want to practice now but it's too late." He tilted his head down a little bit.

"Non sense. Anytime is a good time to practice." I informed him. "If ya wanna practice, let's go to the training room. It's always best whenever it's dark and quiet."

His smile shone brightly and hopped up. He followed me to the training room. I passed the huge arena and stopped in the middle of a small wrestling arena. One you'll see in WWE, but much smaller.

He stood in front of me, confused as what to do. "So... What do we do first?"

"Let me teach you how to properly hit. First, punch my hand." I held my hand vertically, it was covered with a black fingerless glove.

He was hesitant, but punched my hand with great strength. His punch would've been stronger if he had his position right. I held his fist in my hand. I used my feet and fixed his stance in his legs.

"You're punch is strong, but it could be stronger. Keep a good stance like this." I positioned myself in the correct form.

He copied my stance. I nodded my head and held my hand up again, symbolizing to throw another punch. "Try to punch with a swift swing."

He punched, but his swing was a little off. "Don't shift your hand like that, if you punch with a little more force, you'll break your wrist."

He nodded in understanding and punched again. It was better, but he softened his hits. "Hit harder, never go soft on your opponent."

He swung again, it was almost perfect. I'm glad he's a fast learner.

We stayed in there for hours. I taught the kid how to properly punch, inflicting the most pain. I also showed him how to get out of a head lock.

When we finished, he could easily get out of a head lock, like a second nature. And his punches would inflict tons more damage than before. He said thanks, giving me a quick hug, and left for his Aunt Mays house.

"I'm gonna go and see her before she heads to work, thanks so much. I'll definitely be back." Then it was just me alone in the training room.