"You wanted a bad guy? Fine, I'll be the bad guy."
Continuing on her vigilante career, Charlie's had a decent two years, that it until it gets interrupted by evil titans, old mentors, theatrical lairs, and her growing feelings for her now-friend Pet...
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Millions of needles pressed into my nerves. Aches covered my body, making it feel like a giant bruise. The ground was moving under me, the shaking of the earth making the dark world blurrier than usual. My face hurt like a bitch.
Slowly, I pushed myself up, wincing as pressure into my arm. The room I was in was pitch black and I shakily lifted my fingers. Barely visible bits of light sparked in my hands, long enough to see I was in the back of a moving truck. From the cold air, I could tell it was ice. Clutching my chest, I felt around the bulletproof material, feeling the two indents of where the drones got me side by side. Again, I tried lighting my fingers up, but to no avail, the dryness of my throat signified that unless there was a drinking fountain on this truck I'd be stuck powerless for a while... well, that's nothing new.
Kidnapped and shot, what a week? Dragging myself forward, I strained to hear anything from the driver or passenger but German was limited to very few words, and neither of them was asking to go to the bathroom.
A chill went up to my spine as I went through possibilities, either Mysterio wanted me here, in that case, I was dead, or some strange people picked up an unconscious girl, also dead. One thing was for certain, I needed to get out of the truck.
I yanked at the white metal door up and winced as my left arm felt like it was about to fall off. Drone bullets hurt, even with a bulletproof vest. Exhaling through my nose, I pulled out the knife Bucky gave me. With all my weight, I pushed it through the metal and punctured it enough to peak out of it. From the small window, I could see the long and vast road. No cars were behind us. Shooting a glance behind me, the two people were chatting amongst themselves passionately. As quietly as possible, I sawed through the material until there was a hole big enough for my hand.
My hands fumbled around then found the latch. I lifted up the door just enough for my kneeling form to have space. It's just like in the movies.
Thor, have mercy—
The truck jolted sideways for turn and my body was propelled out. Tucking and rolling, I felt the impact radiate up through my body. The ground shifted from hard to soft as I crashed into the grass. Frozen in shock, I uncurled once I was stationary. "Ouch." The back of the ice truck sped off in the distance.
Dirt was mixed with blood in my mouth and I gagged as I tried to push myself to a sitting up position. Pain radiated up my arm. I was never doing that again. A shaky gasp left my lips as I strained to sit up. Finally, I leaned against a tree next to me and clutched my chest. Around me were nothing, but trees and dirt. Where am I?
Bracing myself on the tree, I forced myself to my feet. A sharp sting ran up my side and I glanced down.
Oh, look I've been impaled.
A shriek was caught in my throat. Inhaling through my nose, I inspected it. Based on the depth of it, the dagger wasn't deep enough to nick anything important, but it was deep enough to be bloody. If I pulled it out now, I risked bleeding out. Gently, careful not to pull it out, or push it deeper, I held it. Eyes closed, I focused on drawing electricity to my fingertips, in hopes of speeding up the healing process. Not a single spark left my body and the dryness of my throat mocked me. Jaw clenched, I knew I'd be a dead man if I didn't find something to patch it with, and furthermore, Quinten had officially pissed me off.
