Revenge (Sequel to Cursed) // Fitzsimmons

Jemma 3

She woke up in a chilly, dimly lit room. Jemma could tell she was on a bed, for she was laying down, and the surface was soft. Her hands were tied tightly, presumably bound on the headboard above her. She was not alone either, as she could hear the breathing of someone else across the room. It was eerie, and she found herself praying that it was Will and not Ward.

  With a sudden flicker, the lights came on, though the door didn't open, and no one came in. She didn't even see a visible light switch. Starting to panic, she told herself to take long, deep breaths, though it hurt after getting strangled to the point of unconsciousness.

Jemma remembered the breathing next to her, and a quick look confirmed that Will was in the room with her. He was asleep, but alive and there. Bandages laced his left arm, indicating he was the one who received the gun shot wound she heard before passing out, and not her.

Startlingly, the door opened. It creaked and skidded, just like the door on her cell last time. Maybe creaky doors were a Hydra thing.

"Good morning," Ward began, shutting the large metal door. "I'm glad to see you're up. I was hoping he would be up too, just so we could get to business a little quicker."

Jemma didn't respond.

"Oh, that's new. Simmons is actually silent for once," taunted Ward, who was opening his duffle bag and sitting in a chair near the exit. She knew what was in the bag, and hoped Will stayed asleep for a while.

Grant kept talking. "You're smart, Jemma. You probably know what's going on. This is your absolute last chance. Either you give me what I want, or I swear I'll kill him."

Her eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't."

"Wanna test it?"

Sighing, she decided not to rebel any further. "No."

"See, I knew you were smart. We'll just wait for Mr. Daniels here to wake up, then we will chat. How does that sound?"

"Terrible," she mumbled, hoping he didn't hear.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

Neither spoke. The room would've been silent had it not been for Ward laying out all his weapons. Hammers, guns, knives, machetes. You name it, it was probably in his cache.

For a while, Will didn't stir, and Jemma actually started to believe he would stay sleeping for a little longer. But, just her luck, he awoke with a small groan just as Ward finished unloading his armory of a duffle bag.

"Ah! There he is. Rise and shine, there's things to discuss." Ward exclaimed a bit too excitedly. Jemma supposed torture was the highlight of his day.

"So," Ward continued, "this is how this is gonna work. I'm gonna ask you a question, and if you don't respond will information I want, you get a strike. Three strikes, and you're dead. Got it?"

"You made rules for interrogation?" Jemma questioned, sickened by his game.

"Well, of course. I'm a civil man. Who wants to go first?"

Will and Jemma stayed quiet.

"No one? Well, I guess the young man will go." Ward's eyes darkened as he stood and loomed over Will's bed, knife in one hand, pistol in the other.

"W-what do you wanna know?" Inquired Will, still shaking off sleep.

"What do you know about Maveth?"

"I'm not telling you a single thing."

"Wrong answer." Ward grabbed Will's bare forearm and slashed a tally mark in it. "Strike one. Jemma, your turn. What do you know about Maveth?"

Echoing in her mind was Ward's threat of killing Will. Does she let Ward win, or let Will die? She decided against spilling intel, and took a breath before speaking.

"Nothing."

"Wrong answer, Jem. That's strike two." Ward did the same as with Will, with the exception of two tally marks in the place of one.

Grant's grip on the knife tightened, his rage building. His jaw was clenched, fists balled up.

"Last chance, Daniels. What do you know about Maveth."

Will took a deep breath. He nor Jemma believed Ward would actually kill either of them, so he felt confident in his answer.

"I've told you, Grant. My lips are sealed."

Hastily and angrily, Ward put his pistol right between Will's eyes. Jemma thought it was an empty threat.

She was terribly, awfully wrong.

Grant Ward pressed the barrel deeper, looked Jemma right in the eyes, and pulled the trigger.

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That was wild. I'm so so SO sorry for being so long on the update. I'll really try to be faster.

Thanks for getting Cursed to 1.5k reads!

Comments are greatly appreciated!

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