Phantom of the Hellicarrier

I have killed many people in my lifetime, but I have never been caught. If I kill someone then I am doing the world a favor, and usually no one minds. Unless you're a secret government agency who just HAS to know everything about everyone. Which is the reason I let them 'catch' me so they could 'interrogate' me, and they could be satisfied with their pathetic lives.

I sat in their interrogation room. The usual gray walls, "mirror" in the front next to the door, and a single table with two chairs. I sat there with the same solemn expression I usually wear. I didn't have any intention of telling them anything. If I remember correctly, this is America and I do have the right to remain silent.

I had lived in France my entire life, and I worked and owned the Opera Popular. It used to be fun, up until 6 years ago, when the accident happened and I never wanted to go back. I hadn't been in a single play since then, and I wasn't going to.

Six years ago, we were doing the usual play The Phantom of the Opera. We were the best people, with the best director, and the best actors and actresses. I had played the Phantom since I was young, and I always marveled in his mystery. It was all fun and games up until we were building the set and I was dancing around, and playing with a couple of friends. My sister was on top of a very tall ladder, and I accidentally bumped into it.

Emily was standing where she shouldn't have been and the ladder fell, and she went with it. No one could catch her, due to the extremely big and heavy ladder falling down. When the paramedics arrived it was too late, and I was completely alone. Our parents had died two years before that, and now I was completely alone with absolutely no family.

That was also the day I stopped talking, completely. I hadn't said a word since then, and I wasn't about to let some agent of SHIELD make me. As those thoughts went through my head, there she was. She was 5'9, and muscular, but thin. She had brown hair that went a bit past her shoulders. She had shining blue eyes, that reminded me of the sky.

She sat in the chair across from me and sat down and put her arms on the table she immediately started talking "Okay, why the hell can't anyone get you to talk? You realize if you don't cooperate we could throw you in prison." I rolled my eyes and looked at her with pure disgust. I couldn't stand American women, and I had no intention on humoring them with begging. I also had no plans on going to jail, because it would only take me two seconds to break out, and no one would notice.

She glared at me and said "Look, you can be as tough as you want, but SHIELD can see right through your tough boy act, and we know you're scared." I almost broke into a laugh, and a grin, but I held my face and stared at her with the same expression.I didn't have any fears, because I didn't have anyone to fear for. If they thought I was afraid, then they were very mistaken, and obviously had nothing better to do.

"Let's cut to the chase" she said in a hard tone "We know you're a mutant. At least tell us what your power is." I am not telling you anything, saying I don't think in English, I think in numbers. I know six dead languages that you would dream of being able to know. Why would I tell you anything, about who I was, or what I wasn't? That would be cheating, and cheaters never win.

She stared at me and said "Are you hungry? Do you even eat? That had to have been a long flight, and you are probably hungry, or thirsty. Do you want anything?" She said in a lighter tone with a smile on her face. I rolled my eyes, because I didn't need food to survive. Okay, that was a lie, because regardless of being a mutant, I am human, I think.

She glared and said "If all you're going to do is roll those big black eyes at me then this conversation is over!" She got up in a very bad mood, and walked oddly slow out the door, as if I was going to stop her. She walked off and I heard someone say "Did you try sign language?" and she responded with "Shut up, Coulson."

I sat in the boring room for about twenty more minutes until she glided through the door yet again. Her next step was to try to use sign language "Are you deaf, and mute?" she signed. I wanted badly to respond to her, but that would break everything I have spent my whole life building, so I continued to look at her with my emotionless face.

She banged her head on the table and said "I am not giving up on you We can make this work. She acted as if we were in a relationship and having problems, probably another useless tactic. I wish she would just give up. It was around eleven p.m. when she finally looked at me and said "I will be back in the morning. And you are going to talk to me." I watched her leave the room as she laid a sandwich on the table. It was a kind gesture, but I wasn't giving into her useless games.

I think she has some sort of fascination with trying to get me to talk. What is so special about my voice? Everyone has a voice, yes, all are unique, but mine is just as good as anyone else's. Except mine was probably a bit better, considering I could sing opera, but hey I grew up in France and I owned the most famous opera house in existence. Therefore, making me rich beyond belief, and it made me wonder if this SHIELD knew anything about me. If they did, then why bring me in for questioning if they have all their answers, which means they need me for something.

A man walked in and said "Would you rather sleep in here, or in a cell?" I stood and glided over past him, towering over him and his two agents. One looked similar to him with long brown hair, and pulled back into a ponytail. She had a gun in her holster and her hand kept twitching toward it, which insinuates she must be trigger happy. She stood close enough to the other agent, and you could tell by the way their eyes kept meeting that there was something there. By the bruises on her arms, I could definitely tell there was something very romantic there.

The man had medium length blonde hair that hung down over his forehead, and bright blue eyes, but a bit darker than the woman who interrogated me. The man walking in front of me must have been Coulson, since his voice was the same I had heard before. The woman behind me whispered "She get anything out of him?" The man next to her with blond hair said "I don't think so. He won't talk to anyone." Coulson turned around and said "Aimee. I need your keys." She walked swiftly by me and handed him her keys and the man behind me smiled at her.

She rolled her eyes and said "Don't start, Clint." Clint laughed until Coulson gave him a death glare, then it was once again silent.