Vengeance [Avengers Fanfiction]

[Chapter 1]

One year later.

[Quinn]

    The frigid wind blew in my face, my dark hair whipping around me. The bitter cold cut through my leather jacket and dark gray hoodie, making me numb. Numb. If only I could feel like this all the time, or rather, not feel. Anything but the emptiness that threatened to swallow me, drag me deep inside myself.

    I stood on a rooftop overlooking the city, fog swirling in the inky sky as I subconsciously gripped the handle of my dagger, the weight somehow feeling reassuring as I twisted it in my palm. A sigh escaped from  my lips, a cloud of foggy mist rising from my breath. I would have to come back later, after work.

    I pulled my jacket and hoodie off, leaving me in the white blouse and small black vest I wore for work. After that, I slipped one of my daggers into the thin elastic belt I wore above the waistband of my pants, making sure it was fully sheathed and none of the metal was touching my skin. To hide the weapon I tucked my blouse over it and into my dark, high-waisted shorts.

    The other dagger that was identical to the first I put in a similar sheath, this one around my ankle, inside of my black combat boot. Pulling my leather jacket back on, I stuffed my hoodie in a bag that was full of other clothes I would change into after work. Adding the final touch, I put on the dark-rimmed glasses that made my eyes appear murky brown and ordinary instead of the striking silvery gray they actually were.

    Swiftly climbing down the side of the building using a rusted fire escape, I stepped into a dark side street and made my way down the cracked sidewalk, being careful to avoid stepping in the dim halos of light illuminated from the street lamps. I don't want to get jumped and be late for work, even if I could fight my way out within minutes.

    The neon sign of O'Leery's Bar greeted me as I approached, the blinking leprechaun lifting its arm repeatedly, drinking a mug of beer. I entered through the side door for employees, stopping by the bathroom mirror to quickly tie my hair up, as was required. I stepped into the kitchen to sign in, then behind the bar to see which area I was working tonight. Waitresses like me, all dressed in a white blouse, black vest, high shorts, and fishnet tights, (with varying levels of skin showing through their uniforms), scurried around the pub, serving drinks or taking orders.

    Rob, the owner, barked at me from across the room where he was sitting behind the bar, smoking a cigarette.

    "Alexis! You're wiping the tables tonight!"

    Sighing, I grabbed the tattered rag that was used to "clean" the filthy tables that never looked remotely decent, and swabbed the wooden tabletops. I flicked aside the numerous cigarette butts, whoever sweeps the floor later will get them.

    The bar was always filled with a hazy smoke, the dingy lighting making the whole room seem dim. The TV droned on in the background, set on the news. There were only about ten or fifteen customers in the bar, the usual for a Wednesday night. Most of the customers were wearing unbuttoned work shirts, ties loose and hanging off their necks, presumably just having gotten off of their job for the day.

    I moved on to the next table, keeping my eyes down to try and avoid conversation with the waitress, Jade, who was clearing the table from empty glasses and bottles. Jade was, as eloquently as I can put it, more on the slutty side. Her nearly transparent blouse was buttoned about two thirds up, exposing her bright red bra. She wore shorts so low and small I don't think that they could be considered shorts, her tall heels clicking and platinum blonde hair swishing as she walked. It wasn't just her I didn't talk to, I try to avoid everyone as much as possible. It's safer that way.

    Jade gestured at the TV. "I remember when that happened. It was such a, like, shocker. Crazy stuff right?"

    I glanced up at the screen, and instantly froze. The newscaster was sitting at a desk, images playing beside him as he spoke.

    "Today marks the two year anniversary of the tragic deaths of the prestigious Corvus Vermont's wife and two daughters. Camilia Vermont was driving her daughters, Sophia and Talia, to a hotel where they planned to spend the night during a small family retreat. Corvus Vermont was planning on meeting them there later that night, but disaster struck."

Clearing his throat in an annoyingly mild manner and straightening the papers on the desk presumptuously, he spoke again.

    "The car that Mrs.Vermont was driving slid on a patch of ice, skidded over the guard rail, and plummeted down a steep hill into a ditch, killing them all. The tragic loss of his entire family devastated Vermont. Since then he has proposed new road safety requirements for our city. Fycon City has benefited greatly from these laws in the past two years."

    He paused for a second, then continued. "Shown here are pictures of the daughters, taken a few months before their untimely deaths. Sophia, on the left, was only five years of age. Talia, on the right, had recently turned sixteen."

    The newscaster's voice trailed off as I stared at the pictures. Sophia's golden curls cascaded down her shoulders, her pleated dress matching her blue eyes. Quickly, my eyes focused on Talia. Her short red hair, gray eyes, white gown, arms wrapped around her little sister. My breath hitched in my throat as I stood there, unmoving. It felt as if I was slowly being suffocated from the inside out.

    Jade's voice snapped me from my thoughts. "Hey, are you OK?" Giving her a stiff nod, I stalked to the next table, swabbing it furiously.

    After my shift ended I quickly left the bar, gasping the fresh air as I stepped outside. The picture of Sophia and Talia Vermont was burned into my mind as I walked down the street. Jade's words echoed in my memory as I walked, asking if I was okay.

    No, I am not okay. Anything but okay. That girl, Talia, was me.