The bolts slide back one by one and the door swings open. A thin ray of light fills the cave, illuminating the slimy walls and uneven floor. The barrel of a gun appears around the door and I laugh darkly. Even after all this time they see me as a threat.
The gun and the man behind it come into view. Like everyone here he is a foreboding character. Tall, dark, dresses in dirt smattered clothes and very au fait with a gun.
"You are wanted upstairs."
It's not a question. His voice echoes around the cave, the first words I've heard from another human in ages.
"But of course." I smile graciously, more of a grimace. At least I haven't lost the art of sarcasm during my time here.
...
The man leads me through a rabbit warren of dimly lit tunnels, all the while to point of his gun pressed to my spine. He doesn't speak and I don't initiate conversation. So, we walk in silence, our footsteps echoing eerily, the only sound this far underground.
Eventually, we come to a standstill outside a door. Much like the one that keeps me captive. The same bars, the same flap to push food through and the same camera positioned to face it. So much for teenage girl privacy.
Guy with the gun shoves open the door and pushes me inside.
...
The space is slightly better lit than the corridor outside so it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. When they do I take in the sight in front of me, revulsion rising in my throat.
An unconscious man lies on a makeshift table, his clothes ripped and torn, blood oozing from his chest onto his once white shirt. His hair is mattered with what I expect is blood and small cuts cover his face and arms.
"You will fix him, everything you need is here.'
Before I know it, the door has been slammed shut and I'm left alone with a dying man. A dying man whom I'm supposed to fix.
Honestly
...
Taking in the rest of the room I realise that it is a temporary hospital. Ancient looking medical supplies are scattered around on the floor and a crumbling basin sits in the corner.
I'm not sure why they have put me here, I'm not exactly a doctor. I know they have an actual doctor, she fixed me up when I first arrived. That means there must be something else going on here...
Not that I have time to mull it over. There's a random dying man in front of me and he looks suspiciously close to deaths door.
Scrounging around I find a relatively complete medical kit as well as a box of musty bandaids and a half full bottle of strong alcohol. Anaesthetic purposes?
Locating a pair of clean gloves, I snap them on, preparing for what's to come.
YOU ARE READING
A Stark Contrast
FanfictionMika Hayes has been held hostage by the organisation who call themselves The Ten Rings for the last two years. Just when she thinks it's all over the dying Tony Stark enters her life.
