[debut] I think I'm breaking down again

[nottheotherguy]

Tony's car was nicer than anything I'd ever been in, and he drove it fast. "Should I be nervous?" I asked; he looked at me quizzically. "Last time I saw you in a race car, it didn't end well." Even in the backwoods of Canada, I'd seen the footage of him in Monaco. He looked like he was trying not to find that funny.

"Live a little, Jolly," he said finally, and I didn't try not to laugh. It felt good to have something to laugh at.

I leaned my head back against the expensive leather and let my eyes fall shut. It felt good to rest, too. I didn't think any of us had done that much lately. At some point I dozed, lulled by the sun on my skin and the wind rushing by. When I woke up, I wasn't in the car anymore.

If they'd ever managed to get me into that glass cage at the bottom of Fury's flying command bunker, it might have felt something like this. The room was small, but only one wall was open, and it hummed with energy like the forcefield around the tesseract. I sat up, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my hand, looking around. I didn't like what I saw. There was someone else in one of the other beds, but whoever they were, they were curled up into a ball, out cold. It was eerily quiet except for the almost inaudible whine of machinery-- the air conditioning, probably, and the lights, but I'd be shocked if there weren't cameras hidden all over the place too.

I felt the rumble under my skin, the other guy wanting to come out. Neither of us liked the look of this one bit. Shut up, I thought, and got to my feet.

"Hey," I called out, going as close as I could to the doorway. "Hey Fury, I thought we were gonna play nice."

There was no answer.

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[nottheotherguy]

there was pain, burning, a rain of fire, and behind it the girl's snarling face, fangs bared

...

she twisted in his grip, breath coming short, gasp turning into a yell as he flung her

...

the tang of blood in his nostrils, the light flickering, the surprised look on her dead face

...

his own scream of rage echoing off the walls, then blackness

...

I came to with a hoarse shout, shooting upright from where I'd been sprawled on the ground. I was naked-- great-- and my entire body was a deep, throbbing ache, like I'd run headfirst into a brick wall.

I looked up and realized that must be exactly what I'd done. The one wall of the cell was warped, one of the metal panels half torn off, wires uncoiled and spilling out from behind it. A light flickered overhead and there was a little hissing noise punctuated by intermittent quiet beeps. I hoped whatever that was hadn't been something important.

And then I saw the girl on the floor, the spreading pool of blood beneath her. "No," I breathed, "oh God, no." Ignoring the agony firing through every nerve in my body, I scrambled over to her and checked her pulse, but I knew even before I touched her that I wouldn't find one. Her head was turned at an awful angle, and her eyes were still open, but she wasn't breathing.

I sort of greyed out for a while. I didn't know what to do; it was pretty clear now I needed to be in this cell, even if I still didn't know what she'd done to deserve getting served up to the other guy like a chew toy. I had no idea how long I'd been sitting there when something beeped behind me. I turned to see a panel had opened up in the wall. I didn't move. I didn't really care what they were offering; I didn't want it. But a second later it beeped again, and when I still didn't move, it beeped twice.

"Fine," I muttered, getting stiffly to my feet. In the cubby behind the panel was a track suit matching the one the girl was wearing, which I guess I'd been wearing one just like it too before the other guy tore it to shreds. Caroline, I suddenly remembered her saying. She was called Caroline. I unfolded the pants and they were almost big enough for two of me. "Very funny," I said, my voice still scraped raw and sounding like it belonged to a pack-a-day smoker. I looked up at the ceiling, where I assumed the cameras were. "Whatever you were trying to prove, I hope you're happy."

I would've liked to refuse the clothes on principle, but my body temperature had taken a nose dive and I was practically shivering, so I slipped them on. As I pulled on the shirt I felt it rub rough against my back, and realized I was covered in little cuts and the starts of some fantastic bruises. I couldn't have cared less. After I zipped up the sweatshirt I sat back down in front of the girl's body, my forearms resting on my knees.

I'd killed people before, when the other guy came out. Innocent people who'd just happened to be in my way. But I thought this might be a new low; the first time I'd killed a kid. I fell into kind of a stupor after a while, just lost in the fog of my own guilt. Hours passed; I might have been meditating except for how I was too weak to concentrate on anything, much less achieve anything like serenity.

I was still zoned out in my dull self-pity when without any warning, Caroline's body convulsed and she rocketed upright with a gasp. I wasn't shy about showing how surprised I was; before she could take a second breath I was up on my feet and as far away from her as I could get, my hands flat against the wall, eyes squeezed shut as I focused on breathing slow.