Two years ago you were on top of the world, had a beautiful apartment, lots of close friends and a job that paid you well. You were a receptionist at a medical lab that made second skins and were leading the front way for new organs, bones and muscle. You were proud to work for the company you did, that you got to be a part of it no matter how small your part was.
That was till one late evening, then everything in your world changed.
You had stayed late at the request of Dr. Richards, he just needed an extra body there to observe some of his readings. It wasn't the first time you had spent time in his lab, helping the best you could. This time would be different, this is when the nightmare that was your life started.
He passed you that fateful evening and jabbed you with a needle as he went by. The next couple of months you where in and out of consciousness. When you were awake the pain that radiated from your back was unbearable, you were chained face down on a metal cot. Every time you woke the pain was in a different spot. You prayed for death to take you when your body would rake with fever chills, sweat dripping from you.
You could never see what they did, just heard the steady hum of machines, and the bright florescent lights. Time had no meaning to you, you had no idea how long they had you captive.
One day an explosion happened somewhere in the building, you didn't move, just hoped when the ceiling caved it would make you a quick death. You heard someone burst into the room, and gasp.
"What did they do to you?" The voice exclaimed, your could hear the chains snap and yours arms and legs become free.
Slowly you rolled off the table, weak on you feet coming face to face with the man in red and gold suit. His masked pulled back as he looked at you.
"Kill me." You asked weakly, your reflection in the window behind him.
"No, I won't kill you. But you should come with me." He replied.
That was a little over a year ago, now you stood deep underground, walking the abandoned subway line. This is where you had made your home, you haven't seen the light of day since that moment when he broke you out. How you missed the sun, the way it felt when it kissed your face. The warmth it provided, you missed everything about being topside.
You knew that you couldn't be apart of humanity, not with the enormous wings that where permanently attached. That's what they did to you, turned you into some kind of freak. You hate them, the people and the wings.
You sat down awkwardly on the subway platform, tucking them in behind you. You raised the phone to you ear, the phone Tony had given you a year ago. One you kept charged, just in case you ever changed your mind.
"Tony, I'll join. But someone needs to meet me, and it has to be late."
That's how you ended up at the compound, you were snuck in at the dead night. Greeted by Tony and Bruce, you were sure both of them had a million questions but both men kept it to themselves. You were shown a room and that's where you stayed, you never left when people were out.
It was very late at night when everyone had left for a month on a mission that you ventured out. You went outside, it felt weird to feel the wind rifle through your feathers. You had done this a couple times now, walking outside. Slowly you unfurled your wings to either side of your body facing away from the compound, your massive wing span taking up twelve feet in total.
Bucky watched you from the doorway, he had been catching glimpses you the last couple of nights. Just a flash of white, before you would return to your room next to his. Yet here you stood, your wings shining bright white in the moons flection. Slowly you lifted them, pointing them up into the night sky.
He felt his breath catch in the back of his throat, cause even from this distance he could the scars that littered your back. Long angry lines running vertical across numerous places. You sighed, enjoying the feeling of stretching out muscles that you didn't get use.
Slowly you brought them down, stretching them back toward the compound. Oh it felt good, to feel those muscle pull. Bucky stood transfixed in his spot, just watching you, he had never seen something so spectacular before.
You brought the wings up swiftly before cupping them and bringing them down sharply. You had only begun trying to figure out how use them, you had been watching birds closely from your window in the evening. Trying to figure out how to use them.
Bucky watched as you continued to raise and lower your wings at a steady beat. The grass pressing down from the rush wind that you created on the down stroke. Slowly you felt your heels leaving the ground, inch by inch you could feel your body being lifted up. Before long you were just on the tips of your toes, not for long cause then you felt nothing under your feet.
Your heart raced, a slight panic at the lack of being able to feel the ground. You kept the motions up for a bit a longer, a cramp seized through your left wing. You dropped to the ground like a rock crumpling you to the ground in a heap. You slammed your fists into the grass, frustrated that you couldn't even use them properly.
Bucky crossed the yard to you slowing as he reached you. He wanted to reach out at pull you into him.
"This is stupid." You say to yourself. "Why am I even trying? Not like I can go anywhere."
You looked over at your offending wing, glaring at it through tears that threatened to spill. You had been looking at them for the last year, everyday, always over your shoulder and still you felt like they weren't a part of you.
"I'm a freak, I have no place here." You sighed, lowering your wings behind you so you couldn't see them anymore. You saw him out of the corner of your eye.
Startled, you whipped around, accidentally hitting him in face with the top of your wing. Right at the bend where the bone was the thickest. He stumbled back a bit, bring his hand to his face, chuckling lightly.
"I'm sorry." You said quickly, jumping to your feet, sprinting away.
YOU ARE READING
You're a freak, a man made freak. You became an experiment against your will, the result is the two enormous wings attached to your back. You hate them and what they stand for, bulky, awkward, and clumsy. They and the scars that litter your back are...