Picture It and Write: Shockwave

Here’s my bit for this week’s entry. It’s an Avengers fanfic 🙂 Here’s the thing, it turned out to be longer than I anticipated which is normal but I wanted to keep on point that it’s a prompt piece. I will definitely post the other part as sequel since I already finished writing it. Fact: this is my first writing of this sort for this fandom. I actually like it.

This week’s photo prompt, click here for the main post.

I couldn’t sleep, I finally decided as I fell on the floor face first after much tossing and turning. I’d come out of a panic attack only an hour ago (it’s one in the morning) after learning that my scrambled mother sent all of my freaking socks to GoodWill, except the pair that I have on. I just can’t even, anymore. I have yet to meet another soul who truly knows the importance of socks, the spiritual aspect of the things.

…..

But something strange happened between that time and now.

Now, I was … I haven’t the foggiest idea where I am. It was by a dock, that much I could say. It was almost quiet, the ringing in my ears is almost audible.

Not far off I could see the city skylight taking definition in the horizon. It was one of those shipping yards where those hella huge container ships dock. I’m perched atop a stack of them, five stories tall. It was cold, environmentally sure, but the pealing metal was approximately 6°C, with no vibrations except from the tiny ones coming from the ground conducted by the four containers below. A night bird called, a nervous shiver raced through me like an internal minor earthquake.

I can’t explain it, but I just know this stuff. Live feed on the energy signatures around me and this is just the one dimensional stuff. I noticed it three years ago. I wish I could talk about it but it’s the kind of thing that gets you in a sealed room and on a dissection table courtesy of some vague and menacing government agency. No thanks, not that I have friends anyway.

There wasn’t much traffic here, however, I’m pretty sure I’m still in New York. That made me kinda edgy being here out late. Then again weird shit happens at any given time. Last year there was an alien invasion at high noon. Our saviours had disappeared as quickly as they had appeared but I do feel safer knowing that they exist at all. Ask any one. You can take a peek at my room. The faces of the Avengers dominated my walls. First class ass kickers, that bunch.

Back to the now. I don’t know how I got here. One moment I was about to nod off. The next I was standing in front of this normal sized corrugated metal box, a nondescript thing really. I shouldn’t have noticed its dull blue-grey paint, but I did. I knew it was trouble the five seconds after. Trouble had energy emissions too, not that the average human could discern.

Impulsively I’d reached out and touched it, fingers grazing the cold dead thing. With a strangled gasp I wrenched my hand away. It wasn’t dead like it should be. My hand been glowing teal and silver-white along the bones and nerve tissues, making it abundantly clear this was going to be one crazy night.

The beautiful lightening ran from that arm to the rest of me like … like fresh blood, I guess. Energized. Alive like I’d never been. The world was sharper, the scents were stronger and separate. Basically all of my senses leveled up by a lot than what I was used to. There had to be something alien about it. Hell, it practically was alien tech for all I knew.

Then I hear voices approaching, gravel crunching under brisk footsteps.

There wasn’t a lack of hiding spots and just for the heck of it, I tried a thing and tested these heightened abilities. I took a few steps back, bent my knees and sprang up with all the force I could muster. And dear Lord almighty, did I jump. I needed to work on the landing aspect.

Now (five minutes later)

There were three people. Two middle aged guys; one black guy in a leather duster … and there was an eye-patch over the left eye and had an air of dont-fu*k-with-me; the other was white, wore an expensive grey suit, had a receding hairline, a Bluetooth earpiece on the right side and looked as if he just shorted a double shot of espresso. The woman was a redhead and clad in black leathers and was more than likely two hundred percent lethal by the way she moved and assimilated the surroundings in a few sweeping glances. And the glinting knives tucked snugly in a belt slung across her waist.

Captain Patch: …. The council does not know about this yet and I damn well mean to keep it this way for as long as possible. You were right, Romanov ( saying this to the assassin chick)

Espresso: Well, at least we cleared that up. Good news is Barton’s recovering.

Romanov: At an exponential rate. What ever this thing is, shouldn’t it be removed from the premises? It’s been left out here exposed for ridiculously long enough.

Espresso locked eyes with Captain Patch, a meaningful look exchanged. Romanov gnashed her teeth in a slow, measured grind, fists clenching and unclenching. Obviously she was out of the loop and not liking it one bit. She spun around to pace. And holy crap! That lady … that’s … that’s Black Widow. Damn. Holy … just wow. This is just my night!

Espresso: The way he came across it was unusual. He couldn’t remember ever coming here. Frankly, I’ve seen seen my share of the impossible and I’m surprised that I keep getting surprised at all. We’ve set up a perimeter around the place to see if it attracted any other people. You know, just be safe.

Captain Patch: So far there’s been no show. It’s been only a week but who knows.

That make’s me wonder exactly how tight is this perimeter. I mean I got in with no worries. What am I? Maybe I should reveal myself.  No. Not yet. The most certainly work for the government but it sounds like the were keen against this ‘council’. Times like these I wonder if anarchy is not all so bad, not the moderate kind anyway, ignoring authority when it suited them.

Crap, how the hell was I supposed to get out?

I am snapped out of my brief reverie by sudden exclamations below. Argh! Too loud, the the two different pitches are ricocheting like scattered marbles in my head. Oh dear. Espresso is walking steadily towards the container that started this mess. No no no. The other two made a quick dash for the man then – I happened, on instinct.

I averaged the distance a best as I could. I crouched just so, muscles prepping for the launch and drop. I literally feel the metal beneath go hot an then cold and the electric currents that’s  flowing into me. I let go. This all happenes in less than three seconds. One second he was a hair’s touch away from the box of doom, the next he is flat on his back unharmed except for the new sets of bruises.

I scramble off of him real fast and put my hands up in the air. The guns pointed my way at were very much expected..

Captain Patch: Now, now. What do we have here? Who are you, kid?

I met his one dark, very sharp looking, eye.

Oh, boy. Am I so glad I wore pants.

 

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Picture It and Write: Shockwave

Talk to me

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s