Every muscle in Izuku's body groaned in protest at the tight space the sludge had crammed them into. The darkness blanketed him and the humid air that was infected by his breath cradled his face. Condensation had wedged itself between the mask and his skin. A few beads of sweat trickled down Izuku's forehead. The sludge villain had been silent the entire time they had been squashed into this tiny cupboard. If he could, the teen would scream or shout to let someone know he was there.
A light tremor rattled his body as he cast his mind back to how he ended up in this spot. It was his quirk's fault. It was all his quirk's fault. If Izuku was quirkless then the sludge would have abandoned ship a long time beforehand. The villain also wouldn't have the upper hand against every hero he met. The sludge was right. His quirk was aptly named 'Invasion'. It meant that no one Izuku met could ever truly have privacy. That no one was safe in their own minds. That Izuku could ruin them in a heart beat. Not that he would, no, he had sworn against it. He had learned from a very young age that someone with a quirk like his was rejected and cast away by others. Some skittishly avoided him, others went as far as deeming him villain material. The thought made his stomach roil. Izuku would never willingly be a villain. The thought made him want to squirm under his own skin.
When his quirk first manifested he had thought he was loosing his mind. Chunks of time would be lost on him. He would come back to consciousness with angry people shouting in his face, teachers and students alike. Izuku would magically teleport from place to place and when he brought it up to others they would tell him they had seen him walking from one place to another. When his mother took him to the doctor, the man had been quick to pin point the cause of Izuku's lack of memory and apparent teleportation ability.
He was only four, sitting stick straight on a wheeled stool with an All Might action figure clutched tightly to his chest. His mother was seated next to him, wringing her fingers and tapping her feet. The overpowering smell of antiseptic burned in his nose. The bright lights shone from above and illuminated the monochromatic white room. A doctor with a thick bushy moustache and spiked glasses that were pushed right up his nose was reclined lazily into his chair. "I think this sudden memory loss is to do with his quirk manifesting," The doctor hummed. "He is definitely at the right age for it." Izuku felt a surge of excitement course through him. Finally, he would know what kind of hero he would be, aside from the greatest of course. The doctor tilted his head towards the infant, "tell me, before these blackouts do you feel anything strange? Perhaps a buzzing sensation or a muscle in your body seizes up?"
Izuku nodded his head enthusiastically, "I get brain tickles." He squeaked pointing a quaking finger towards his temples.
The doctor hummed, stroking his beard. Reaching over to his desk, pulled out a clip board and a pen before leaning over and handing them to the child. The chair below him wailed in protest. Izuku gladly accepted the items, clutching them tightly in his small hands. "I want you to focus on that feeling and try to summon it up. When you do, write down whatever you can see or hear or find out." Before the doctor had finished his sentence, Izuku had squeezed his eyes shut tight and reached for that sweet tingling sensation he had come to know so well. The next thing Izuku could remember was looking down at the clip board with wide eyes. The repetitive ticking of a nearby clock ground on his nerves. "What did you write?" The doctors monotone, lifeless voice queried. The man tilted his head to the side as the child stared between the clip board and him.
Feeling his mother place a warm hand on his back, Izuku swallowed hard. "You very recently helped a man on his deathbed who had no where else to turn. Someone with a very bad past who harmed many people. Someone you have know for a long time. Someone with a lot of power and ambition. You admire him and want to do everything you can to help him because you believe in his cause." Izuku stumbled over some of the words and it took a few moments for him to wrap his mouth around the sentence.
"Izuku!" His mother reprimanded him. The boy glanced sheepishly at his doctor. His blood ran cold. The man was frozen still, his lips curved downwards and a soft shake claimed his hands. The child couldn't help the rush of excitement that claimed him, even if the doctor did not seem best pleased, Izuku was elated.
A loud bang forced Izuku to come crashing back to the present. The sludge steadied Izuku's breathing and forced him to still. The squeak of a door made him shudder. There was another bang. A grunt. The sound of clinking metal. A careful and delicate noise, as though someone were folding and organising clothes. Footsteps. A whoosh and a groan of protest. The empty chatter of a T.V. flickered to life. Several seconds passed by, a buzzing hum filled his ears as he strained to hear any further movement. Time kept on ticking, Izuku's neck ached and every inch of him screamed to be stretched. Not to mention his arm had gone dead.
Finally, when the boy believed he could take it no more, the sludge moved. Gingerly pushing open the cabinet door, he peered out into the dimly lit room. The blue light from the television cast an eerie glow across the whole apartment. The living space was neatly organised, if sparse. A couple of chairs, a few lights, a round table, a number of cabinets and the couch that was facing away from Izuku and towards the television. The mind numbing chatter continued. Nothing stirred. The sludge used the child to gently open the square cabinet door wide enough so that they could slip out and onto the carpeted floor.
Once crouched down an all fours, the Sludge paused. Once again, there was no reaction. Izuku cried out desperately and tugged at every muscle in his body. Not even a hair twitched. Terror began to build on the boy's chest. From the corner of his eyes he could make out a mannequin dressed in shiny metal armour with a sturdy helmet that had a long red feather protruding from it. Not to mention the several dangerous looking swords that were displayed on a weapons' rack on the wall.
Clenching Izuku's teeth the sludge crept forwards and all the while Izuku was wailing inside his mind, tugging desperately at the controls. It wasn't long until the sludge had positioned himself just behind the couch, his hands clenched on the backboard and his legs crouched beneath him. The fabric of his suit crinkled with every move. Izuku screamed. Nothing. A hot, acidic feeling rose in his stomach. Something was wriggling around in his abdomen, burning its way up his throat. Izuku's stomach muscles clenched hard and his mouth began to salivate. His heart throbbed in his ears and a cold tremor shook his body. The thing rose higher and higher in his throat. Izuku could only compare it to a wriggling fish that was trapped in a sock. The villain barely suppressed the wretch that wracked Izuku's body. The thing wormed out of his throat, through his mouth, squeezed through a tiny horizontal slit in his mask and into the open air. Burning pain seared in his throat, but the sludge left him enough room to allow oxygen past its liquid arm. The dark shape of the liquid writhed in front of Izuku's eyes.
The sludge pounced. Springing up to his feet the sludge's liquid lashed out first. The unsuspecting man reclined on the couch stared at Izuku with large, startled eyes. His gut clenched. The hero didn't have time to digest his shock as the liquid sludge wrapped around his face, smothering him. Izuku cried in alarm, straining against Sludge's control with all his will power. It just wasn't enough. The boy begged, he screamed at the sludge to stop. The villain wasn't listening.
A blue spectral shield appeared on the blonde man's arm, and for a moment Izuku had hope. He called out cheers of encouragement for the hero that Valiant would never hear. The man's screams and shouts didn't make it past the thick solution masking his mouth and nose. His limbs flailed around him and his shield uselessly slipped right through the liquid. The sludge sprung over the couch, digging a knee into the hero's chest and pinning his arms onto his stomach. That fleeting moment of hope was crushed when Izuku's eyes met Valiant's. Panic, raw terror and panic. There was no fight, just fear. Izuku grasped all the self control he could muster and yanked desperately at the controls. All it got him was a grunt of amusement.
Izuku screamed and begged Sludge to stop as Valiant's movements became more sluggish. His vibrant shield flickered from existence. The life in his eyes vanished leaving behind a limp, empty shell. Izuku's pleas went silent. The sludge got off the hero, stood up straight and dusted himself off with a wicked grin. A numb buzzing filtered through the child's mind. Valiant was dead. Izuku's own two hands had held a hero down as he was smothered to death. Midoryia could barely feel the searing hot tears that welled up in his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. "It's official now runt." The sludge whispered under his breath, wiping Izuku's face with his shirt sleeve. The repetitive droning of the television uttered on as though someone was still watching it. "We're stuck in this together."
YOU ARE READING
Encroachment
FanfictionMidoryia is determined he will become a Hero, a hero that doesn't need to use his quirk. A quirk that makes his own skin crawl. Unfortunately the sludge villain has different plans for him. Upon claiming Midoryia's body, he uses his newfound quirk t...
