eternal || hawks x reader

Chapter 1 || Freedom

"crack your rib cage open, peel back the bones. release the creature inside your chest, let it out to roam. let it create the chaos that's hiding under your skin, simmering in your blood, filling up your lungs, drowning you from within."

- constellations across your ribs, bruises on lips | v.p

Dull walls, cement floors, and a two-sided mirror I didn't get the pleasure of being on the other side were the only significant surroundings I could make out in such a dark room. The only visible light came from a single light bulb that looked like it was a flicker away from it's last breath, hanging above the steel table before me. My hands had been binded to it in about the same fashion asmy feet were to the ground. They were encased completely in metal and unnecessarily heavy, in my opinion. It seemed the true purpose for the restrictions was to make sure I wasn't able to use my Quirk like these monkey suits knew that much about me. I would have opted for lighter material, because I'm biased, and a muzzle. If I wanted to, I could bite the inside of my mouth hard enough that in about five seconds I'd already slice the jugular of the man sitting in front of me with a laminated folder.

It'd be stained with his blood, no doubt.

As much as I wanted to let my dark thoughts consume me, it didn't seem like it was in my best interest to murder whoever waltz in here because at least one person here had the knowledge of getting these restraints off of me. In order to find Haruto, Rae, and everyone else I needed my mobility back. All I could remember is them reaching for me as they were taken away, my Quirks weakness to blood loss engrossing me; but a bad feeling stemmed from the memory. I didn't know why - but it didn't matter. They had to be here somewhere. We were attacked by the same people... weren't we?

"Your name." He said it more like a command than a question.

"Twelve."

"That's not your name." He sucked his teeth, already seemingly agitated as if he was the one in restraints. I snorted at his audacity, "It's not like you would know, right?" My eyebrow raised slightly, a sarcastic look on my face as we shared a glare filled with mutual hate.

"Listen here you little shit, I need you to cough up all the information you have about Littlest Angels Orphanage and the child killers they produced that took down ten of my friends." As he spoke, I ended up paying more attention to the vein bulging out of the side of his head in anger than his words. At first, I wondered why he looked at me with disdain until I remembered he was wearing the same suit as those whose blood I drew. "You hurt my family, that makes us even." I couldn't help but smirk.

This only seemed to irritate him further as he opened the folder aggressively, slamming three pictures down in front of me. I didn't look, holding his cold beady eyes captive until I decided I was curious enough to see what he laid before me. When the images below came into view, it felt as if someone had stuck their hand through my chest and grabbed a hold of my heart, unwavering in their grip. Next, my stomach churned so violently I had to bite my tongue to keep from throwing up on myself. My throat closed and my chest tightened, breathing becoming more of a chore than an actual normal bodily function. Despite the reactions these pictures caused to my body, I couldn't look away.

I couldn't look away from their dead bodies.

My family's dead bodies.

The first picture was of Eight, the cloud above her head had disappeared. It was the first time her delicate features were void of any emotions.

The second print was of Seven. He was turned onto his front but I knew it was him from the moment I saw the hue of his dark hair because sometimes, in certain light, it looked like a solemn purple. This was one of those times. A copy of him laid beside his body in the exact same position, his Quirk called "Split" hadn't faded. He had the ability to create copies of himself but his certain skill set only allowed one another version.