Shigaraki in Marvel

"Boy" the words reverberated around the teenagers head with a crashing crescendo, his eyes shot open in a sudden panic.

His shoulder was aching as it was awkwardly resting against stinging cold cracked red flooring that caused shivers to run through his body.

He was not in his bed.

The boy's head raised and looked up only to see a giant blood red chamber, it looked mythical as many beautiful old engravings were carved into the dark cracked stone walls surrounding him.

A large beam of red light came through stained windows surrounding him and led him to squint at the engravings in the wall that depicted eldritch monsters and a single humanoid figure fighting them off with apparent ease. 

He lifted himself off the floor and to his feet with ease and felt his toes curl as the soles of his feet smacked against the cold, cracked floor. 

An odd repulsive smell filled the large chamber, odd given the floor was clearly clean, the walls while cracked and seemingly falling apart at the seams were also clean.

His mind was focused on the mesmerising works of art and the story it told, a large humanoid figure with a long mane of glowing white hair fought giants, tiny creatures with large wings and sabre-like teeth, dozens of odd dark wolf like creatures and a giant floating brain with dozens of surrounding dragons. 

He heard a sudden repulsive squelch from behind and turned quickly, he almost slipped on the smooth red tile floor beneath him but stumbled and caught his balance, not before he caught a glimpse of the thing standing in front of him.

It was a hand…a rotting large grey hand that stood the size of an elephant. It somehow stood menacingly above him, its sheer size left no doubt that the thing could quite easily crush the young teenager standing below it.

The hands long fingers spasmed impatiently and seemed to be waiting for something, anything. He noticed that the hand was housing a mini ecosystem of plants, mould and insects that emanated that repulsive smell.

A large window was behind the creature, it was stained glass, something you would find in a church. However this stained glass was a dark red and instead of Jesus Christ floated a large severed hand that pulsed with energy that blew back the dark black hair of the teenager. 

"Boy" the voice was dark and raspy as if it hadn't been used in a while. The boy's eyes instantly locked on to the eldritch thing before him. 

The hand's voice rang through his head, the hand could speak! It slowly used one of its fingers to point at the shaking teen.

He couldn't speak, his palms were sweating, his throat felt swollen and his eyes were watering. 

He couldn't put his fear into words, it felt tangible, almost as if it's long fingers were wrapped around his throat.

"You are chosen" The boy couldn't respond, could barely take it in as without a second to truly process what was going on he was sent flying backwards.

He gasped and released a short scream as he was sent flying and looked behind him to see an open pair of large wooden doors he flew out of with zero air resistance. 

His eyes were closed in fear but he felt the air temperature drop significantly and felt himself choke as he tried to breathe in. 

With the panic of not being able to breathe he opened his eyes only to see an image so breathtaking that if he could take a breath in he would choke on it.

He was floating in an endless void of stars, and in the middle of it all was a large floating meteor with glowing, sparkling gemstones embedded into the side of it and a large blood red church-like building perched on the floating rock. 

The world seemed to pause for him in that moment of extreme beauty as he didn't even notice his lack of oxygen as his eyes closed and his heart stopped.

—-

His eyes opened quickly, all peace was gone and he was embraced by a complete coldness that spread through his body as he took in the sight above him. 

Chaos.

Lightning was shooting through the sky and gigantic pieces of metal were being flung with extreme speed past his vision. 

"Destroy" was whispered into his head in a deep raspy voice.

He felt the cold concrete against the back of his head, he placed his palm against the cold gum covered floor and cringed slightly, he felt pain radiating from his stomach. 

He heard a deep growl and then a high pitched scream of pain. He tried to turn to it but winced at the pain in his neck, he was laid back awkwardly against a raised pavement. 

The chaos around him was loud and intense but he felt it take second place in his mind, he wanted-no needed to move.

He tried to stand slowly, he first got onto his knees and then carefully stood on shaking knees that almost gave way but ignored that but couldn't ignore the sudden gushing blood pouring from his stomach. 

He collapsed back to his knees once he saw the sheer amount of blood pouring from him. He couldn't feel pain, he only felt numb as he watched the blood pour from his stomach. 

"Destroy" was whispered again.

"What-" his short questioning ceased as he released a wet cough and tried to catch his breath with deep panting but couldn't seem to get enough oxygen for his shaking body. 

The crashing and explosions were ignored once more as he futilely placed pressure against the wound under his previously white shirt. 

He whimpered as he suddenly lost control of his body and feel headfirst into the concrete below with a sharp smack. 

"Fuck" he continued placing pressure against the wound, he wasn't sure how he wasn't dead yet but-"Fuck" he whimpered into the gumcovered concrete below him. 

He's going to die.

He's going to die, what about his…

His what.

What does he even have!?

"Destroy" the words were ignored in the face of his crisis. 

His mind blanked, who even is he…he…he…

He whimpered once more as his body seemed to curl inwards on itself. 

His vision blurred and he felt his body's muscles seem to slowly relax and lose any tension in them. 

His mind seemed to go into overdrive as it searched itself, he tried to remember his parents, his childhood, the first time he rode a bike, nothing, he couldn't find anything other than that damn hand. 

His head was still resting against the cold concrete as his head pulsed like a drum.

He needed to stand, he needed to do something, anything.

He saw an image flash by, the blood red window and cracked floors familiar to his mind.

The hand.

His core muscles screamed as he pulled himself up and his core muscles continued to scream as they had to hold him up. He looked up into the blue sky above him and saw more chaos, a large beam of plasma flew overhead and met in the middle with a large invisible wall that blocked its advance.

He coughed and felt his vision blur once more, he placed his hands on the floor ready to lift himself but the screeching of metal tearing caused him to cringe and cover his ears.

His vision was terrible and hearing wasn't great either…but he knew he had to stand. Some instinct, something in his body was screaming at him to stand. 

His head pulsed again but he placed his palms onto the extremely cracked and bloodstained concrete below him. 

His palms slipped on the cracking concrete below him. He growled "I hate this damn city" he didn't even recognise his own voice.

It was raspy and sounded as if it hadn't been used in years. 

"Destroy" he tried to ignore the whispering once again. 

The concrete just kept cracking but after finally finding some balance he pushed, and then pushed more for his legs to work.

He pushed and felt his legs strain and core scream in pain but eventually got to his feet, he looked around and saw they were on a street. 

It felt familiar. 

Cars were strewn all over the place, doors missing and roofs carelessly torn off, the roofs of the familiar houses were scorched and broken and the street below him was covered extensively in debris.

The air smelt charged, the world seemed filled in some sort of tension that needed to be broken.

"Destroy" he felt himself snarl as the voice entered his head again. 

He saw blood seeping from underneath a carelessly thrown car that was missing its side panels. It looked like they had been torn off by the damn hulk.

His mind screamed as he thought of the hulk, some sort of image was coming to him of a giant green monster that could throw cars like he could throw a tennis ball.

He winced and ignored the burning pain in his stomach and head and kept pushing forward. His eyes caught a glimpse of a short man with a terrible hairstyle and a familiar set of metallic claws.

His breath caught, as his throat swole. He recognised those claws, it was a mutant. Wolverine, a mutant he had heard of before.

"Destroy" was whispered again.

"Ge-Get the fuck-" his voice was interrupted by another wet cough. Said coughed wracked his whole shaking form and almost caused him to topple back to the floor. 

He instead stumbled and fell forward into the centre of the street and then fell awkwardly to his knees. He released another set of coughs that tore his throat apart and felt like his lungs were burning. 

His palms were pressed against the road holding his form up, even this part of the road was cracked beyond simple repair. 

This city…

He noticed the cracked concrete spreading, there was something deeply wrong with this city. 

"Destroy" was whispered into his head as he snarled and felt his hands almost sink into the concrete below and only felt his anger rise.

Nothing was going right for him

He looked up and saw the familiar mutant fighting some giant figure with a large helmet on, this figure was wearing all red and looked big enough to wrestle the hand he saw earlier and win. 

Mutants.

He felt some sort of disgust fill him when the word went through his head, it felt wrong, disgusting even. 

The word bounced around his head and it only seemed to make him angrier every time he thought of it. His hair fell messily in front of his eyes and the colour of it shocked him.

Grey.

His hair was grey…a dirty grey that was covered in blood and dirt. He thought his hair was black, he didn't remember it being black but he thought it was always black.

His already troubled mind was now confused as it raced about looking for anything that could stabilise him.

"Destroy" was whispered once more causing him to snarl once more.

His palms sunk deeper into the cracking concrete, his hands were now wrist deep in what used to be the road. The familiar road the mutants must have destroyed.

God he hates mutants.

He hated everything about them, he was filled to the brim with hatred for the disgusting beings. They were unnatural, no not only unnatural they were vile and cruel.

He remembered his cousin, a mutant. He went to a school for them and then two months later they were watching TV and saw his cousin on the news fighting a different mutant.

Metal was being thrown around and then one piece skewered his cousin through the stomach with careless ease and then the other mutant flew off without a care in the world.

Mutants.

His aunt killed herself not long after, mutants don't care for anyone but themselves. They'll happily protest for people to accept them but then blow up cities and kill hundreds and wonder why they are being attacked.

"Destroy" the whisper bounced around his head as he snarled again. 

He couldn't even think to himself anymore.

Dragging his mind away from mutants he looked up from the cracking concrete below him and to the street in front of him only to see a hand.

Not the giant hand but just a hand.

His eyes followed the hand to the owner's face only to snarl as he met eyes with the mutant above him.

The one with claws, Wolverine.

Wasn't he just fighting…how long had he been in his head.

His mind raced with a possible response other than slapping the hand away and then falling due to lack of balance. 

As his mind was racing the concerned Hero noticed the extreme amount of blood still pulsing from the civilians stomach and the X-Man without a hint of hesitation threw the civilian over his shoulder and started to race over to the blackbird.

The teenager's eyes widened as he tried to fight off his attacker only to be futilely thrown over the short but stocky man's shoulder with ease. The fighting had clearly stopped as it seemed the two groups had come to some sort of agreement. 

They what…

He looked around and saw cars strewn about the place, blood layered the street and houses had windows destroyed and roofs torn off.

And they came to some sort of agreement…

Mutants.

"Destroy" was whispered into his head once more and he almost instinctively placed his palm straight onto Wolverine's back.

He watched with wide eyes as Wolverine's white vest seemed to just dissolve from his palm. And soon as his palm was against the muscled back of the man he watched as the skin seemed to crack and break apart.

He was quickly dropped onto the concrete below with a crack as his arm smashed into the road below. He winced at the pain. 

"Destroy" was whispered again and he felt energy, some type of energy filled him to the brim.

He got to his knees and placed his right palm on the concrete below him. He lifted his head and met eyes with the short stocky man who now had his claws out.

He felt some sort of energy running through his body.

It felt amazing.

From going to the brink of death to this energy was just heavenly. 

The X-Man looked like he was about to speak but the teenager only grinned and used his left hand to brush his grey hair back from his manic red eyes. 

Concrete started to fall apart from where his fingertips were placed against the road below him. 

"Destroy" this time it came from the teenager's raspy throat, the whisper ran through the battlefield with some sort of authority that caught the attention of the large groups of mutants at the end of the street by a large jet. 

The world paused.

With a large scream of metal and groan of concrete the road disintegrated in a split second, wolverine was sent rolling as the buildings around them collapsed with a roar of metal and the crash as bricks hit the cars which all started to sink into the sewers below while the blackbird jet had also lost a wing from when it had fallen.

The sound of dozens of buildings collapsing with the screams and shouts of civilians as they were crushed by the debris was overwhelming.

The X-Men and other mutants were all being held in the air by some flying red haired woman. 

The smell of the sewer below was also seeping upwards to the floating X-Men and when the dust settled it revealed that the grey haired teenager that did this was gone. 

Please let me know if you would continue reading this, and if you would what you would want to see in the story! Any good ideas may be added with your permission:)