92 Revenge Tour (pt.9)

2014

Sokovia

HYDRA Research Base

Lower Basement Level

(Brock POV)

"Dr. Whitehall," I greeted my old teacher as the dark metal of my helmet retracted into the back plate of my armor, and I looked down at him with a cold gaze. "It's been a while."

Dr. Whitehall's eyes narrowed, a look of astonishment, fear, and apprehension crossing his face as he gazed up at me.

He struggled to push himself up from the cold concrete floor, his movements slow and pained. Despite the disheveled state of his appearance, the cunning intelligence that had made him a threat remained apparent as he took in my armored form, the dark crimson energy that emanated from my body, and the ominous air that hung over the room.

"B-brock Rumlow? Is that really you?" he muttered, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and unease. "But...you're supposed to be dead! Pierce reported that you were killed in action."

I couldn't help but smirk at his reaction.

For years, I had lived in HYDRA's shadow, biding my time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Now, I stood before Dr. Whitehall, in control of my own destiny and future.

In front of me was the man who had trained me to be one of the most ruthless soldiers in the world, the man who was responsible for turning me into what I am today.

"Afraid the reports of my demise were...greatly exaggerated," I replied, my tone dripping with dark humor. "Unfortunately for you, I'm alive and well."

Whitehall's features twisted in anger as he glared up at me. His eyes scanned over my armored body once again, likely searching for the source of my inhuman strength and abilities.

"Impossible," he whispered, his voice quavering with envious rage. "How...how is this possible!? What happened to you?!?"

A sense of vindication washed over me as I watched Whitehall's composure crumble. For years, I had endured suffering at his hands, all in the name of HYDRA's twisted ideals. Now, the tables had turned, and he was the one left trembling in fear.

I stepped closer to him, my armored boots echoing ominously in the dimly lit corridor. Each movement was deliberate, and calculated, as I loomed over his injured form, relishing in the fear that emanated from the man who had once been my mentor.

Leaning down over Whitehall, I met his terrified gaze with a cold look of my own and smiled cruelly.

"What happened to me?" I repeated his question, my voice low and chilling. "I've become better than you ever could have imagined."

I leaned close to him, smelling the strong stench of sweat and urine on his clothes.

Whitehall's eyes widened in terror as I continued to tower over him, his trembling form trapped beneath my presence as his gaze darted around, as if searching for an escape route, but there was none. We were deep within the bowels of the HYDRA research base, and I had ensured that no one would come to his aid.

"Look at me," I hissed, my voice barely above a whisper but still forcing Whitehall to turn towards me with a fearful gaze "You taught me everything I needed to know about control, manipulation, and how to break someone's spirit...You really tried your hardest to turn me into the perfect weapon, Dr. Whitehall....Well, congratulations, you succeeded."

*Crunch!!!*

"AAaaaaarrrraaaggh!!!!" The sound of Dr. Whitehall's agonized scream reverberated through the cold, dimly lit corridor as I applied pressure to his leg, the bones shattering beneath my boot.

His features contorted in pain as he writhed beneath me, his cries for mercy falling on deaf ears.

I leaned in closer, my voice a venomous whisper, "Remember, doctor, all the tests, and torture sessions, the countless hours you spent breaking me down, all so that I could be the best I could be for HYDRA? Well, now you see the results!"

*Crunch!!!*

"Aaaaaarrrrraaaaggghh!!!!!" Dr. Whitehall let out another bloodcurdling shriek as I crushed his other leg.

He sobbed in pain, tears streaming down his cheeks as he stared up at me in horror as the broken remains of his legs looked like a flattened mess beneath my boot.

Whitehall's breathing was ragged, his face contorted with a mixture of fear and something that resembled regret. He knew that there was no escaping the reckoning he now faced.

"I...I had orders," he stammered, his voice a mere whisper. "I was just following orders from HYDRA. None of it was personal!! You...all of you were just a means to an end."

"Hahahaha," My laughter was harsh and devoid of any mirth. "Ah, the age-old excuse of a coward. 'Just following orders,' as if that absolves you of anything."

Terror filled Dr. Whitehall's eyes as the realization that he had no way to escape this situation and that he was now at my mercy seemed to paralyze him, his struggles weakening as he lay there, broken and defeated.

I raised my boot off his crushed leg, allowing him a brief respite from the pain, but the terror in his eyes remained as he gasped for breath.

"W-what...what do you want from me!?" he croaked, his voice a mere whisper, his arrogance and bravado reduced to nothing.

I straightened up, my expression unyielding, and looked down at him with a mixture of satisfaction and contempt.

"Thought that was obvious by now...I want you to suffer. I want you to understand that fucking with me was the worst mistake you ever made in your pitiful life."

Whitehall's gaze wavered as he tried to process my words, his mind undoubtedly racing to find a way out of this nightmarish scenario. But there was no escape, he was in my hands now...and I intended to make his death a long and painful one.

I turned away from him, my eyes glancing back at the person whom I hadn't expected to be here.

Wanda was kneeling at the side of her limp brother's body, her hand resting on his shoulder. She had been watching my exchange with Whitehall with a curious look, her scarlet eyes fixed on me with a mix of fascination and uncertainty.

It was clear that she was struggling to make sense of the situation, to reconcile the image of the young man before her with the beast that had just torn this facility apart.

"Stay," I ordered back at the weeping and broken doctor lying at my feet as I approached the young woman, my footsteps echoing in the corridor.

Wanda looked just like she did in the movies...though a bit younger, about early twenties, and without the makeup or costumes.

Blood and dirt stained her face, tears streamed down her cheeks, and her long dark auburn hair was matted and tangled as it clung to her tear-stained cheeks.

She looked like she had been through hell.

Her scarlet eyes found mine...and instantly, I felt that same strange connection I felt earlier from the scarlet aura radiating off of her. It felt like a....tether between us, a bond that existed before we even met.

It was oddly familiar but also...foreign?...I couldn't explain it.

Wanda didn't move as I approached, tears streaming from her eyes as she looked down at her brother, who appeared to be on his last breath.

Pietro's chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged breaths, his injuries severe and life-threatening.

"He's...he's dying," Wanda whispered, her voice choked with grief as she caressed her brother's bloodied face.

I knelt down beside Wanda, the frightening pressure that had once enveloped me receding, leaving me in my armored suit. Her scarlet gaze remained locked on her brother, her emotions a tumultuous storm.

I studied Pietro's injuries, assessing the extent of the damage.

It was clear that he was in critical condition, and time was running out. The battle had taken a toll on him, and the malfunctioning cybernetics that marred his body had left him on the brink of death.

I reached out a gauntleted hand and gently placed it on Wanda's shoulder, my touch surprisingly gentle despite the imposing nature of my armor.

The scarlet aura that radiated from her seemed to react to my presence, the energy pulsating and caressing around me in response.

"I'm...sorry," I said, my voice measured and calm. "I probably should've held back more in our fight."

Tears continued to stream down her face as she looked up at me, her scarlet eyes filled with a mixture of grief, desperation, and something else that was harder to define.

It was a look that held a glimmer of understanding, a spark of trust that seemed to transcend the chaos of the moment.

Wanda shook her head, her voice a whisper.

"I...I don't blame you...It wasn't your fault." She began to cry again as she spoke, tears streaming down her cheeks. "The...thing, you fought...That wasn't my brother. It was some machine that sadistic old bastard put together!"

I nodded, understanding the weight of her words. I had sensed something off about her brother during our confrontation, but now the pieces were falling into place. Dr. Whitehall had tampered with Pietro's very being, turning him into a grotesque hybrid of man and machine.

"You can't change what's already happened," I said, my tone softening despite the grim circumstances. "But you can choose how to move forward from here."

Wanda looked up at me, her eyes searching mine for answers or perhaps solace. She was a young woman unwillingly thrust into a world of darkness and cruelty, and when I saw that look in her eyes it reminded me of Ava, Zeru....and myself.

I gave her a small smile and nodded towards Pietro, "What do you want to do with him?"

As I asked the question, Wanda's gaze shifted back to her brother, his breathing growing even shallower as he lay on the cold floor. Her scarlet eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she struggled to find the words to express her wishes.

"I... I want to save him," she finally said, her voice filled with anguish. "I want to help him, to undo what they've done to him. Please, can you help me?"

Tears welled up in her eyes as she made her plea, her vulnerability laid bare before me. It was a stark contrast to the powerful abilities she possessed, a reminder that even the strongest among us had moments of weakness and desperation.

Without hesitation, I reached out with my armored gauntlet and, with a quick, powerful motion, ripped off the inhibitor collars from her neck and hands, allowing her to access her powers. The shackles clattered to the ground, discarded remnants of her captivity as a surge of scarlet energy emanated from her, swirling around her like a protective cocoon.

Wanda gasped as she felt the full extent of her powers returning to her, the sensation overwhelming and exhilarating. Her scarlet eyes blazed with newfound strength as she extended her quivering hands toward her brother, her fingers trembling with a mixture of hope and fear.

The scarlet energy that radiated from her fingertips enveloped Pietro's broken form, its crimson glow casting an ethereal light over the scene.

But just as she was about to unleash her powers to save her brother, Pietro's battered body seemed to respond. His chest heaved with a painful breath, and his pale lips moved as if struggling to form words.

Wanda's scarlet aura faltered, her powers wavering as she turned her attention to her brother. She leaned in closer, her tears falling onto his bloodied face.

"P-Pietro?" she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Pietro's hand, weak and trembling, rose ever so slightly, his fingers brushing against Wanda's cheek in a gesture of frailty and farewell. His vacant eyes, once vibrant with life, looked up at his sister, conveying a silent message.

Wanda's eyes widened in realization, and her tears flowed freely as she understood her brother's unspoken request. She nodded, her voice choked with grief as she began to speak.

"I...I understand...I'll let you go," she whispered, her words barely audible. "I won't make you suffer anymore."

With those words, Wanda released her grip on her brother's broken form. The scarlet energy surrounding Pietro faded, and his breathing grew even more labored.

He mustered a weak smile, his gaze fixed on his sister with a mixture of love and gratitude. Then, with a final, shuddering breath, Pietro Maximoff, the once-fierce speedster, and Wanda's beloved twin brother, closed his eyes for the last time.

Wanda let out a heart-wrenching cry, her anguish echoing through the cold, dimly lit corridor. She cradled her brother's lifeless body in her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks as she held him close, her scarlet aura flickering with grief and loss.

I stood nearby, my gaze averted out of respect for the painful moment unfolding before me. Wanda's grief was palpable, her world shattered by the loss of her brother.

Returning to Dr. Whitehall, I found him in a state of agony, his broken body wracked with pain and fear. He had witnessed the death of the Maximoff twin, the very individual he had subjected to unspeakable cruelty and experimentation.

As I loomed over him once more, a cruel smile crossed my lips. "Now...where we?"

Whitehall's eyes were filled with terror as he looked up at me, the realization of his impending fate sinking in.

I reached down and grabbed him by the collar of his blood-soaked lab coat, lifting him off the ground effortlessly. His feeble struggles were futile, and his cries for mercy fell on deaf ears.

"P-please," he begged, his voice a desperate whimper. "Have mercy!!"

I leaned in close, my voice a menacing whisper. "Mercy? You showed me none. You tortured me, manipulated me, and forced me to kill something I loved. Now, it's your turn to experience the same pain."

With that, I unleashed my wrath upon Dr. Whitehall, subjecting him to a torment that mirrored the suffering he had caused. The echoes of his screams filled the corridor, a chilling symphony of retribution.

Blood, bone, and viscera splattered across the walls as I slowly broke every bone in his body, one by one. Every nerve ending was exposed to the air, screaming in agony as they burned and shrieked. The sound echoed throughout the facility, and I could feel the tremors of fear and pain reverberate through the concrete walls.

Dr. Whitehall tried to plead for forgiveness...to beg for his life...but all of his attempts were drowned out by the agonized wails of his own body.

As I continued to exact my revenge, I couldn't help but glance back at Wanda, who still clung to her brother's lifeless form, but her scarlet eyes were fixated on my work as she watched Whitehall's slow and brutal demise.

Grief and rage warred within her, her emotions raw and unfiltered as she stared at her former captor. The energy around her fluctuated and changed in response to her volatile emotions, the red haze surrounding her becoming more intense, almost blinding.

I paused in my assault on the doctor, throwing his broken and bleeding body to the floor between me and the young woman.

Wanda's confused gaze shifted from Dr. Whitehall to me, her scarlet eyes filled with a mixture of fury and confusion.

"Want a turn?" I asked, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of my lips.

Wanda looked hesitant for a long moment, and then her eyes burned with hatred as she pulled herself to her feet.

Her expression hardened as she glared at Dr. Whitehall, who was twitching in the middle of the hall, a pool of his own blood gathering around his unmoving form.

Wanda struck out her hand and scarlet tendrils lashed out, wrapping around Whitehall's body like chains.

As the tendrils tightened around him, I could see the doctor struggle underneath them, his thrashing movements becoming more frantic and violent as time wore on.

Grotesque sounds of broken bones and torn flesh sounded as Dr. Whitehall continued to flail beneath the coils, his convulsions growing weaker by the second until he went limp altogether.

Wanda withdrew her tendrils, letting Dr. Whitehall...or what was left of him slump to the ground in a heap of bloody mess.

It looked as if she had just forced his body to turn inside out. Every bodily orifice was exposed, and his loose skin sagged off his body in several places, revealing the layers of muscle and sinew beneath.

His eyes were wide open, glassy, and staring. His tongue hung out of the side of his gaping mouth, which was stained with a dark ooze that dripped from his slack jaw.

His body was a gruesome study in desecration.

"...Holy shit," I said, my voice heavy with shock and awe as I stepped closer to get a better look at the mangled body that was surprisingly still breathing. 

Wanda stood there, panting heavily, her scarlet aura slowly subsiding as she looked down at the grotesque result of her powers. Her chest heaved with a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction, the emotions swirling within her scarlet eyes.

I glanced at her, a mixture of curiosity and admiration in my gaze. Her abilities were far more formidable than I had initially realized, capable of inflicting such gruesome devastation. It was a stark reminder that beneath her grief and vulnerability lay a formidable force to be reckoned with.

Turning my attention back to the mangled form of Dr. Whitehall, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of closure while looking at the man who had met a fittingly gruesome fate.

"Nice work," I remarked, my voice carrying a tone of genuine respect as I looked at Wanda. "I'd say he got what he deserved. I'm actually surprised you didn't kill him."

Wanda didn't respond immediately, her scarlet eyes still fixed on the lifeless, contorted body before her. She seemed lost in her thoughts, grappling with the weight of her actions.

Finally, she turned to me, her scarlet gaze meeting mine. There was a haunted look in her eyes, a recognition of the darkness within herself that she had just unleashed.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice tinged with a mix of gratitude and sorrow as tears streamed down her face. "For helping me, for...everything."

I nodded in acknowledgment, moving forward to place a hand on her shoulder.

She flinched a bit at my touch, but she did not pull away. Instead, she turned toward me and looked up at my face, her expression one that I was all too familiar with. 

We were both products of a cruel and unforgiving world, shaped by the choices of others, and in that moment, we found a strange camaraderie in our shared pain.

*Beep! Beep! Beep!*

The touching scene was suddenly interrupted as my comlink sounded, pulling me back to reality.

With a heavy sigh, I answered the call, hearing Zeru's excited voice crackling over the line.

"Boss, It's almost time!" He exclaimed, his excitement palpable in his tone. "Cap and the others have infiltrated one of the corrupted Helicarriers, and are making their way to the terminal as we speak."

A quick glance at my watch confirmed what he had told me. It was almost time for the fireworks to start flying.

"Alright, You and Ava meet me in front of the facility with our spoils," I ordered.

"Copy that. We'll rendezvous at the extraction point." Zeru replied. "See ya soon."

I hung up the line and sighed again, glancing over at Wanda, whose eyes were still fixed on her brother's corpse. Her scarlet aura had subsided, leaving her looking drained and emotionally exhausted.

We had lingered here long enough, and it was time to leave this place behind.

"It's time to go," I announced to the young woman as I extended a hand towards her, a silent offer hanging in the air.

Wanda hesitated for a moment, her scarlet eyes meeting mine. She looked into my eyes for a long second, searching for something...before finally, with a sad smile, she took my offered hand, allowing me to help her to her feet. Her grip was firm, and as she stood, she seemed to find a newfound resolve.

"I have no place else to go," she replied, her voice steady despite the tears that still glistened in her eyes.

"Then you're coming with us," I said firmly, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "We have a way out of here, and once we're clear, you can decide what you want to do next."

Wanda nodded, her scarlet eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and determination. 

She looked back down at her brother's body and, with a wave of her hand, she used her powers to gently lift Pietro's lifeless form from the cold, blood-stained floor. It was a solemn yet tender gesture, a final farewell to the brother she had lost in the most tragic of circumstances.

"I want to give him a proper burial...one far away from this horrible place." She said, her voice wavering with emotion. "He deserves at least that."

I nodded in agreement, turning around to grab the wet gasping mass of flesh that was now Dr. Whitehall, who shrieked out painfully as his exposed flesh was roughly grasped by my gauntleted fingers.

I carried Dr. Whitehall's body in my hand like a bag of luggage as Wanda followed behind me with Pietro cradled in her scarlet energy. We began to make our way towards the exit of the dimly lit corridor, our footsteps echoing softly against the concrete floor.

As we emerged from the corridor into the larger underground complex, I couldn't help but notice a large cage off to the side of the hall.

I had walked past it before, its presence overshadowed by the dramatic events unfolding around us. But my curiosity got the better of me this time, and I stopped in front of it with interest.

The cage was massive, its metal bars dark and foreboding.

*Grrrrrrr!*

A low growl emanated from within the darkness of the cage as a pair of glowing green eyes appeared within the gloom, staring out at me. They blinked slowly, lazily, and then turned away once more, taking in the sights around them.

"This trip just keeps getting more and more fruitful," I mumbled under my breath, dropping Whitehall to the floor and reaching out to touch the cage as I was intrigued by the creature inside of it.

"You're not thinking of taking that thing with us are you?" Wanda asked uncertainly, her voice betraying her unease as she looked at the beast caged in front of her. "It looks dangerous."

I considered that question, before turning around and giving her a rye smirk.

"One thing you'll learn about me real fast, Wanda," I replied with a mischievous tone, "Is that I love collecting dangerous things."

With that, I pulled the metal bars apart with ease and stepped into the large cage to confront the beast lying within.

**********

A/n: Hey guys, I hope you are enjoying the story so far, and as always, thanks for reading!

If you like my work and want to support it, check out my P.A.T.R.E.O.N: /Swarthy, where you can read early chapters or P.A.Y.P.A.L.me: /xSwarthyx anything is appreciated.