All our times have come,
Here but now they're gone,
Seasons don't fear the reaper,
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain, we can be like they are
-Don't Fear The Reaper; by Blue Oyster Cult
Gianna let out a trembling breath. Her skin was currently covered in a thin layer of sweat. Her vision was so blurred she could barely make out even the most basic shapes. Her limbs felt heavy, her heart was beating loudly — and painfully — in her chest, and breathing hurt like a bitch. To make matters worse, Gianna had IVs and monitors hooked up to her body, making her sensitive skin burn and ache like no tomorrow. Everything felt like absolute shit. And why was Gianna in such a state? Because she chose to be disobedient. She chose to act out of turn against her father, going against his very wishes. Her punishment was experimentation. In all honesty, Gianna should've grown accustomed to it; her father had done plenty on her and her siblings, so it wasn't anything new. But his request made even the most hardened assassins crack.
Gianna would undergo extensive experiments with the Scepter.*
In other words, the energy the weapon produced would be placed inside her body. It would be mixed with other forms of torture, just to see how her body would react. That was her punishment for acting out of turn.
Looking back at it now, while in such a pitiful state, Gianna regretted every bit of what she did. She should've known better than to behave so childishly. Her father expected nothing but perfection, and she was acting foolishly. Naturally, a majority of Gianna's siblings probably hoped she died from the experiment. The only one who seemed to show an ounce of emotion was Nebula. She was the least favorite child, known for going under extremely horrific experiments, as well. But not even Nebula had to be exposed to the raw energy of the Scepter.
A wave of pain surged through Gianna's body, causing her to let out a weak hiss. Her throat burned from screaming, so a hiss was the closest she could get to a pained sound. Gianna's muscles contracted, causing her body to stiffen and contort. For a split second, her breathing stopped and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.* In that split second, everything blurred together. All sounds muted and everything around her went black. And then her body relaxed and air rolled in and out of Gianna's mouth with every breath. Sounds filled her ears, but her vision was still blurry. The pain was slowly dissipating, leaving her confused. The one thing Gianna knew for certain was a flicker of something in the pit of her stomach. Something almost unnatural.
The sound of a door opening caught her attention. Turning her head slightly, Gianna tried to see who was approaching. Was it another doctor? Or was it another scientist? It was hard to tell.
The sounds of someone walking made Gianna's throat close up a little. No, it sounded like there was someone else; two individuals were in Gianna's room. Her heart hammered painfully in her chest. She had to think of a way to defend herself. That last surge seemed to have awakened something deep within her, something she couldn't quite identify. Gianna wanted the pain to stop, and she had to figure out a way to do it. While the individuals got closer, the teen's desire to protect herself only grew, as well. Her muscles weren't at their best to move, but the flicker in her belly got stronger with her desire. Not long after, before she could even think about what was happening, a surge of energy erupted from Gianna's body, expelling itself outward and hitting whoever was approaching. She could hear their grunts, but not them falling over. She could, however, hear the sounds of other things tipping over, even shattering, from the abruptness of it.
"What was that?"
Oh no. . .
Gianna's eyes widened, her body becoming so overwhelmed by fear, she felt nauseous. One of the people she attacked was her father. Her stomach twisted and it felt like every bit of air had been knocked out of her. Gianna tried her best to conceal her fear, to try and hide any emotion that might be on her face, but she knew she was failing. He could read a person like it was no big deal, it didn't matter how well they hid their emotions.
"I-I'm not sure." It was a man's voice, filled with uncertainty and confusion. "It could possibly be an after effect from the tests. . ."
"How can you not know what this is?" Gianna picked up the subtle change in her father's voice. He was getting frustrated, and that was never good for anyone involved. "She shot energy out of her body. There has to be an explanation for that."
"Possibly some form of psionic energy," the man said. "You requested she be exposed to high doses of the Scepter's stone, so maybe she has undergone some sort of transformation. . ."
"Run diagnostics on her immediately. If she's truly managed to develop something out of this, it will be of use to me."
"Yes, of course."
"I expect my results immediately. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, yes, of course. I'll get on it right now."
-0-0-0-0-
Gianna used to have a life before. A nice one, at that. She had her mother, a roof over her head, and a nice world to live on. But when the invasion happened, everything changed. People were either being lined up like cattle, or killed on the spot. Anyone who dared fight back, argue, or question anything during the invasion would be killed, without a moment's hesitation. Gianna had to watch her mother die.* Shot down by an invader — or "the monster," as she'd call them. The only reason Gianna's mother had been killed was because she attempted to fight back. She never stood a chance.
At the time of the invasion, Gianna had been so young. She was barely pushing her sixth birthday and she had to bare witness to people getting slaughtered and families being forcibly separated. It was a madhouse, a nightmare. Gianna, on the other hand, had been grabbed by the monster and would've been in one of the line ups if she hadn't caught the attention of her father. The young girl tried fighting back, and when the monster's blaster was aimed at her head, ready to fire, she heard his voice calling out — ordering — Gianna's captor to stop.
While her life was spared, half of her race was massacred.
Because her father had spared her life, she was indebted to him. She, according to him, would live the rest of her days as his daughter. She would be loyal to him and his cause and she would obey every order he gave. In Gianna's eyes, she had no other choice. He saved her life, it only seemed appropriate to repay him in some way. And if he was willing to take her in as his own child, then where's the harm in that? She'd be out of the mayhem her world had been thrown into. And even if he was big and scary, he'd be able to protect her, right?
Gianna could almost laugh at how naive she was back then.
-0-0-0-0-
Life with Gianna's father was, understandably, demanding. He had very high expectations for all his children, and any kind of failure was met with criticism and some form of punishment. Gianna and her siblings knew that in order to please their father, they had to be thorough and unwavering. Their loyalties had to be in the right place — to him and his cause — and any doubt would be met with, again, criticism and punishment. That was the life Gianna had to experience.
While, in a way, she'd grown accustomed to the brutalities her father exposed her to, there was still a sliver of something inside Gianna that didn't like it. That little sliver would whisper to her how demented her father was. What kind of individual, who claimed to be your parent, would allow cybernetic enhancements to make you stronger? What kind of parent would pit you against your siblings to test your strengths? What kind of father would allow his children to accompany him in committing mass genocide? It didn't make sense! That's what that little sliver would tell Gianna. And she did her best to hide that part of herself; she tried her hardest to push it away and focus on her responsibilities, her duties, as her father's assassin. She tried to be his perfect little soldier. And the harder she tried to ignore and push away that little sliver, the more it would return with a vengeance. It started to plant little seeds of doubt into her mind, and it made Gianna uneasy. She wanted to be like her siblings, cold and deadly, completely loyal and faithful to her father and his cause.
But doubt is a natural part of life, right? In Gianna's fourteen years of life, she'd only spent close to eight years with her father. In all that time, she wasn't allowed to feel doubt. She wasn't allowed to feel anything. An emotional shutdown was necessary in order to be a killer. Gamora could do it, no problem. The older children, especially, were skilled in their emotional shutdown. For a while, Gianna was jealous of them. They could easily go into killer mode without blinking an eye.
It was exhausting, though. All the enhancements and punishments; the sparring and murdering. It weighed heavily on a person's consciousness, whether they liked it or not. It made Gianna feel like shit some days and numb other days. That was the life her father wanted, unfortunately. And she'd have to learn to not go against him again.
(A/N):
1. I'm sorry this chapter took so long to write. I was having some writer's block and had to take a break from this for a while. I know this chapter isn't the best, but hopefully you guys can find something good in it.
2. Before this story came up, I had another one, with a similar idea, titled "lovely." I eventually deleted that story because I was having such bad writer's block, I didn't see any point in continuing with it. So, after some time to sort out my thoughts, I came up with this story instead. I don't know if it'll be any good, but hopefully it turns out somewhat decent.
Okay, so those are the two main points I wanted to put out there. Also, in this first chapter, it focuses a little on Gianna as a teenager with a few hints to her childhood. I'll have future chapters that focus on her life before, as well. They'll just be flashbacks though. The rest of the story will show Gianna as an adult. So yeah. . .*
Do I own anything in the MCU? No. No I don't. All I own are my OCs, my subplots, and the laptop I'm currently typing on. If you've got ideas for OCs or subplots, be sure to PM me or leave a review. I'll add them in as soon as possible. And if anything in my (A/N)'s, or in the chapter as a whole, comes off as confusing to any of you, be sure to let me know. I'll try and sort it out the best I can.
Be sure to leave constructive criticism where you think it's needed. I'd greatly appreciate it from you guys.
Happy holidays, my friends!
Fernie Jamison
