Steve looked around in terror, a single drop of cold sweat trickled down his forehead and onto the blood stained concrete beneath him.
There was an unnatural silence that shrouded the street, and for some reason Steve could feel a tight knot in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't remember how he had got here, or what he was doing standing by himself in the middle of this foreign land. Only that he had opened his eyes to find himself amidst a street with ruined buildings, over turned cars and rubble. And blood.
Blood was everywhere.
Steve took a deep breath and looked down at his hands, he was wearing his thick Captain America gloves, but his hands were shaking.
Why were his hands shaking?
He wasn't cold, or hot. In fact he couldn't feel anything... there was no breeze, no smell of blood or smoke or dust.
The soldier took a deep breath and began to walk down the street. He seemed to be in a small town judging by the small, old fashioned stores and the lack of technology.
The place had been seemingly ripped apart by something.
Steve's boots seemed like the only sound for miles, and the thud of each foot step was exemplified by the lack of noise.
Just then, he spotted something crimson in the distance. Not blood, more like metal...
Steve ran over only to stop dead in his tracks. A few metres away an arm armoured in red metal was sticking out of a heap of steel and concrete.
Rogers' heart was beating frantically in his chest as he ran to dig his friend out from beneath the rubble.
Stark's Iron Man suit had been obliterated.
The more Steve dug, the more he found bits and pieces of red and gold armour scattered around the wreckage, innocently glinting like jewels in the setting sun.
"Tony!" Steve yelled hoarsely willing himself to believe that he wasn't too late. "Tony! I'm coming for you buddy, hang on!"
With a great heave, Steve managed to haul off a giant slab of concrete from the hero and tossed it aside.
The Iron Man's mask had been ripped off and Steve was forced to stare at the bloody face of his friend, a giant gash across the play-boy's forehead was oozing blood.
"No, no, Tony! Please!" Steve begged to the limp body of his friend, trying to assess the damage. He tried lifting Stark into an upright position, but when he placed his hand on Tony's chest the captain felt something seriously wrong. Stark's chest felt... hollowed out...
Steve took a deep breath and braced himself as he looked down at the Iron Man's chest.
There was a sick pool of blood, metal, bones and other things Steve couldn't bear to look at.
Letting go of his friends body, the soldier turned to vomit in pile of concrete next to him. After he had emptied whatever contents he had in his stomach, Steve sat and wiped his eyes which were brimming with tears.
Steve felt numb. The only thing his mind kept frantically telling him was that this wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.
Just then his surroundings started to become blurry and there was a loud zap.
Steve whipped his head around and found himself in a familiar plain white room with no doors and no windows. There was the same single full body mirror hanging from the wall across from him.
The ruined street, the blood, Tony's body... they were all gone.
Steve sat, still numb from seeing the corpse of his friend only moments ago, and looked at his hands again. He wasn't wearing his uniform at all. He was wearing a white shirt with a pair of grey sweatpants.
His hands were still shaking.
It had gone on like this for what seemed like ages now. Images were projected into Steve's brain, making him see, hear and feel things that weren't really there.
There was a temporary amnesia that came along with each projection that was necessary in order to make Steve forget the difference between reality and illusion. But Steve was getting better at recognizing the signs between the two worlds now.
Unfortunately, his revelations always came too late, right after he would see or do something that scarred him.
Something that didn't go away even when he was brought back to reality. Things that would make him wake up in the middle of his sleep screaming and drenched with sweat.
There was no amnesia after the projection wore off... nothing to dull the memories that seemed so real.
There was very little left to Steve's sanity at this point. He had seen every single one of his friends murdered in the most brutal ways possible over and over again. Sometimes he saw Peggy, and the two would dance until Steve held her close and felt her turn to ash in his arms. But the person he saw every single day since his capture, the person he saw tortured and killed and drowned over and over and over again was the girl who he had fallen in love in the past few months.
It was torture for Steve to see her hurt and scream and writhe in pain, and even worse when Steve was the one doing those things to her. He tried so hard to stop himself, but he didn't have control over his own body.
Steve put his hands in his head and felt tears streaming down his face.
"What do you want from me!" Steve cried desperately as he punched the spotless white wall he was curled up against.
As if in answer, the room began to blur and Steve began to panic. It was happening. Another projection.
"No!" Steve screamed desperately as his surroundings began to change. He hadn't had a projection of her yet today... "No, please!"
Steve opened his eyes and found himself in a bed with a pretty girl, her brown hair was short, sprawled out in an array of curls across the white pillow beside him. Her warm brown eyes looked up at the soldier lovingly and she began to caress his cheek with her fingers.
Rogers smiled back and took her into his arms. She was the most important thing in his life now and he couldn't have been happier to be here with her. Even if he didn't remember how he had ended up in bed with her in the first place.
Just then Steve felt his fingers wrap around the girl's frail neck.
Steve felt his heart drop. What was he doing?
He felt his fingers beginning to tighten, and the nightmare began.
Hello all! I would like to start of by saying that this is going to be a fan fic that has a bit of everything in it and chose an M rating due to some of the gruesome scenes and language. Reviews and PM's would be lovely! And of course I do not own any of Marvel or Disney's characters, and/or anything to do with the Avengers. I am merely a lowly writer with a bunch of ideas swirling about in my head. :)