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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 || 𝘐𝘧 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘚𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦
WHEN JASON TRAINED, FELIX HELD NOTHING BACK. If that be insults, punches or kicks, he'd experienced it all at full force. Some would even say that he'd gotten pretty numb to it. Using the pain to deflect it back at the person he was fighting. Taking the assault was easy. Using it was a tricky step. But unbridled rage clouded your mind, and it made you more of a punching bag. And that's why Jason was currently tied to a chair, taking the punches given to him by some random Russians.
"You're gonna have to hit harder than that, guys." Jason's response was a bat to the side of the head. Head rolling back as he blinked a few times to clear his blurry vision. "That's it."
"What the hell is this guy's helmet made out of?" One guy questioned aloud.
"Maybe vibranium?" The other speculated. "Doesn't matter. Boss wants us to rough him up and then kill him."
"Which boss?"
"What do you mean, which boss?" The man questioned incredulously. "Hammerhead. Echo has nothing to do with him."
Jason sighed as he lifted his head to look at the pair in front of him. "Hey, guys," he spoke up. "How about we stop the commentary and shit. I'd rather smash my head off a wall than listen to you two."
The door to the small closet opened with an unfamiliar face stepping in. The woman had her hair tied into a braid. She wore a leather vest and some skinny jeans that hid the prosthetic leg. If she didn't look so damn intimidating, then Jason could say she would be beautiful as a model. But let's be honest, anyone with a look of disgust and pure hatred like her wouldn't make it far in that business.
By surprise, she began to sign. "What do you want with Joseph's weapons?" She asked. "Give me that, then I might be able to convince you a safe departure."
"Hey, boys," he said. "I can't talk to her if I got my hands tied behind my back."
"We know sign language," one of them told him. "Just say your response, and we'll translate it."
"Interesting," he muttered. "You know how to sign but still act like a bunch of dumbasses? Perhaps you deserve a grammy." Jason earned a punch in the gut, having him fold over with a groan.
Panting, Jason licked his split bottom lip. Hissing at the sting in response as he rolled his head back. Looking between the three with the tiniest smile pressed against his lips.
