The Syndicates || "MARVEL: Avengers" || COMPLETED

T W E N T Y S E V E N | ' Yep. This is definitely worse. '

My head pounded, every breath sending a fresh wave of nausea coursing through my system. I opened one eye and then the other, blinking furiously to erase the black dots swarming my vision. White walls glared at me from every direction and bright LED's flooded the room from above, forcing me to squint. A figure stood over me, cloaked in darkness and I reached out with my arms only to find them weighed down by heavy, iron shackles. Moving my feet produced the same result and I realised I was trapped.

"Oh, you're awake." The figure said, placing a small surgical knife on a bracket table above my torso and stepping closer. As he neared, I saw he was a tall man with a flurry of brown hair, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit that seemed to absorb the light around it. With gloved hands, he pulled back my eyelids, shining a torch into my right eye for a second or two. He hummed in approval and I groaned, straining against the metal restraints.

The man pursed his lips at that and walked away, returning with a glass of water in one hand and a remote in the other, which he fiddled around with. He pressed a button and the stretcher moved mechanically under me. I sat up, prompting bile to rise to my throat.

"Here," He said, holding the glass under my chin and I flinched back, gesturing with my eyes at the cuffs around my wrists. The man glanced behind him at what I only later realised was a closed door, then back at me. Balancing the glass on top of the stretcher, he unbound my right wrist. I jerked my arm back towards my chest, almost knocking over the water. There was no pain. Nothing from when 'Loki' attacked me. Come to think of it, the injuries I'd sustained to my thigh had healed over completely too. No more stiffness. All my previous ailments had disappeared but I noticed a fresh bandage dressed around my left upper arm, near my shoulder which throbbed dully. Biting my lip, I studied the liquid in the glass, while he sat down on the far end of the stretcher, and raised it to my lips. 

"What did you do?" I croaked out, shifting uncomfortably, "Who are you?"

I watched his every movement, eyes wide with caution, before taking a hesitant sip of the water. It felt like ice against my parched throat and I downed the rest of it thoughtlessly, savouring the coolness.

"Do you know what this is?" He asked, taking the empty glass from my hands and placing it on the floor beneath the stretcher before reaching into a tin bowl on the table and extracting a tiny metal bead.

"It's a tracker," He said finally and held it closer so I could see the HYDRA insignia stamped onto it, "It was in your shoulder. Without it, hmm, I never would have found you...Enoch Kaius." He added, holding his hand out. His voice was deep in pitch but every so often he would hum between breaths and it would go distinctly upwards, almost comically. Something about it was oddly familiar.

"You're the man who tried to kill us." I said, jaw clenched as I batted away the handshake he'd offered, "On the Helicarrier."

He laughed silently, letting his hand drop back to his side, "Kill you? Please, that was a test. I wasn't going to let you die."

I leant forwards, "Maybe it's the drugs you gave me tainting my memories but I'm fairly certain I had a bomb hanging over my head." I sneered.

He rolled his eyes, "A dummy," He said, then added, "Ask Thor, if you don't believe me."

"What do you mean? They're here?" I asked, trying to keep my head clear which was near impossible with my pounding headache. 

"No, but he'll come. Him and Silver, and a nice big audience of superheroes to send me off."

"Send you off where? What the hell are you talking about?!"

"Ah, and this is where I explain my evil plan in all it's entirety. Hmm." He shook his head with a smile, standing up and straightening his Paisley waistcoat.

"Don't be a tease." I said through grit teeth.

"Patience," He replied, walking towards the door and pressing the pad of his forefinger against a silver screen beside it, "All in due time." 

It unlocked with a click and he stuck his head outside, gesturing for someone to come in. I strained against the cuffs, using my free hand to slide the table closer and retrieve the scalpel. Enoch exited the room, in deep conversation with someone and I held my breath, sliding the surgical tool into the back of my pants. Hurriedly, I undid the cuff around my other wrist, fumbling with the buckle several times before it was finally loose enough for me to slip my hand out. Taking another peek at the door, I moved onto the penultimate cuff around my ankle, freeing myself just as he walked back inside and threw his hands up in frustration. 

"Adam! Eve!" He yelled, and I fished for the knife in my pocket, holding it out before me.

"Get back!" I said, pulling myself into a half-crouch.

"Come now, we both know how embarrassing that was last time." He said, sauntering forwards as the two Loki's who had attacked me earlier ran into the room. I swore, knocking over the stretcher and falling flat on my face as I tried to crawl away. I cut away the cuff around my ankle, scratching myself in the process, before one of the look-alikes could tear the scalpel from my hands. Wrenching myself free, I knocked over the hospital bed and slashed at the air in front of the two Loki's, pressing my back flat against the wall.

"Don't move!" I yelled, tackling Enoch to the floor and pressing the scalpel up against his neck. "Don't move." I panted, my eyes on the other pair.

Both look-alikes froze, emotionless and then, in the blink of an eye, they were gone, disappearing into thin air without any warning.

"What the fu..." I trailed off as the man beneath me faded away, like an illusion, and I fell to the ground, bewildered.

As I stood up, a jolt of electricity struck me from behind and I collapsed, writhing.

"You brought this on yourself." Enoch said, wagging a crackling taser in the air. I groaned, fumbling with the scalpel as I tried to pick it up, all feeling in my fingers gone. 

He pulled a nondescript white square from his pocket, wiping away a trickle of red blood dribbling down his chin. His eyes fell to the crimson stain on the fabric and instantly, his fist flew forwards and struck me across the face.

I cried out as my head collided with the marble tiles, knocking me unconscious.