I wake to the sound of shuffling feet.

My senses tell me it's still midnight, judging by the moonlight that streams through my window. I sit upright, keeping my focus on the noise. My ears pick up the sounds of soft chattering, and I creep towards my door and press my ear to it.

The conversation becomes clearer and I realize that it's a man and a woman arguing over their efficiency in the mission. Whatever that is, I'm not letting them do it in my house in the middle of the damn night.

I grab my knife box from under my bed and select my favorites-two sleek, silver knives that looked more of a decoration rather than a weapon. Each of them has a small gem on the top of the handle-sky blue and crimson, respectively. The gems catch the light and shimmer, making me smile. Contrary to its appearance, the knives are actually one of the sharpest around, which is all the more reason to love them. Beauty and fatality.

I close the box and put it back, regaining focus. Creeping towards the lower vent in my room, I open its door and crawl inside, channeling all my stealth and speed. it's for situations like this that the vent was created-my parents were quite intelligent, always thinking ahead of the game.

I reach the other side in no time, and I am under my parents' bed. Two pairs of feet are seen from the slight elevation.

Shit. They're in here. How am I supposed to ask them for help now?

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" prompts the male.

"Yes. This is our assignment, Jacob. We'll be damned if we don't complete it," the female answers.

"But.."

"How are you even assigned to this? You can't even follow orders. I'm requesting a new partner."

"No! Dianne, please..."

The reply is a familiar sound-the unsheathing of a blade that's about 10 inches.

Shit.

I stab Dianne's right foot with the blue gem-adorned knife, and it sinks easily through the woman's foot. Blood trickles through the pristine white carpet. My hands turn clammy at my action.

"Aiieee!" she hisses.

"Dianne!"

Jacob crouches down and I retreat into the vent. I am grateful for the specially designed door-it opens from and to the inside and is specially painted to blend into the walls. A small lever is included that opens a slit for a view outside.

Tears prick my eyes and I blink them away. I don't have time for this-I need to focus and survive.

"Your foot!" Jacob exclaims.

"No shit, Jacob. Let's just finish this...and get out of here."

Dianne comes closer to the headboard and the next sound is horrifying-a knife crushing through the thick human skull. This happens twice, and tears stream down my face in result. Blood spills from the heads and through the carpet, and I can do nothing but watch.

"Let's go," Dianne commands.

They exit the room, and I push myself out of the vent. My fingers dig into the rough carpet, and the friction is unbearable to my smooth porcelain skin. My arms and legs burn, but I go on.

I have to.

I wipe the tears away from my eyes, determined to find any sort of identification. Just before the attackers escape, I catch a glimpse of their organization's logo on their uniform and glare, the thirst for revenge running through my veins.

I must know.

Gathering my strength, I grab the other knife and throw it, the weapon slicing through the uniform of the man. The knife pierces the wall with ease, a piece of cloth hanging from it.

I drag myself up and trudge towards the knife. Freeing the logo from its capture, I stare at it with teary eyes and a desire for vengeance.

Of course. It's the logo of an agency I've been trained to loathe all my life. The black polygonal eagle over a silver circle.

I grimace.

S.H.I.E.L.D.