Hello lovelies. Thanks to those who have reviewed! I've been super busy! Hope this goes well!
"We need to find a map."
Half an hour after saying that, Natasha still trudged through the silent facility—though her tired footsteps didn't make a sound. The cub led the way—ears twitching at apparent phantom noises. Natasha was partly relieved when the cub entered a room off to the left. Pausing at the door, she looked in.
Two chairs sat at an enormous control panel while black screens lined the walls. Rubble from the ceiling littered the panel and floor. Natasha took a step in—eyes drawn to where the cub had hopped onto the desk and stood with its paw on the wall. She glanced to the wall—slightly taken back when she saw a map there.
She approached as the fingers of her left hand grasped her flashlight. Pulling it out, she clicked it on—a soft sigh leaving her lips—and lifted it toward the map. Natasha was vaguely aware that the cub hopped off the panel and moved toward the door.
So we're here… She pointed to a gold star. …which means there's one floor between us and freedom. Her finger traced a path to the exit.
Natasha sighed. That was better than where she thought they were. She feared they were still in the depths of Hell. Who knows how large this place is? She cast a glance toward the cub. Well, she probably does.
"Okay," she said softly, moving from the room—flashlight flicking across the darkened hall. "Let's go. I have an idea of where the exit is."
She heard the cub snort, and a few moments later it resumed its lead. Has she known where to go all along?
Keeping her flashlight trained on the cub before her, Natasha followed in silence—allowing her brain to wander. Where's Fury? Is he searching for me? He's been known to neglect agents before. Does he know Barton's dead? She swallowed roughly. Her partner, the only one she trusted… Dead.
Cold finger tips ran up her spine causing her to pause. The sensation of being watched consumed her in the dark. Her eyes widened. No…
Natasha vaguely heard the cub growl as she swallowed roughly. Not here. Please… I thought it was over.
"He's here," she said quietly and clicked off her flashlight.
It was then that a soft scurrying came from the hallway behind them. Natasha reached for her gun as the cub issued a warning growl. Peering through the darkness, she paled as a short figure with a pale white mask rushed at them—its eyes and mouth ringed in black. Her gun rose. She caught a glint from its gloved hand in the darkness—knife!
She pulled the trigger.
A breath left her lungs as the figure collapsed to the ground. I didn't know the 'Corrector' had friends. A shiver ran through her bones as she turned to the cub.
"We have to get—"
A wail rose from the depths. Please don't be Clint. She looked at the cub. "We have to get out. Now!"
The cub turned and trotted out. Natasha followed closely behind.
It wasn't long before she lost track of how long they navigated the decrepit hallways. The scenery remained the same—rubble strewn across the floor, doors falling off hinges, parts of the ceiling missing. All she knew was when they reached the staircase, the surroundings change and relief spread through her veins. One step closer to freedom.
As she entered the room at the top of the steps, she pulled out her pistol and scanned the perimeter. The top floor had once been modeled after an office building. Crumbling cubicles lined the aisles, as well as parts of the ceiling and glass. Her glance lowered to the ugly linoleum floor. Ugh…
The middle of the room caught her attention next. The ceiling had caved in, revealing the dark night sky. With a few carefully placed feet and hands she could climb out. Freedom's close.
Her grip tightened on the pistol as the smell of decaying flesh hit her, causing her stomach to curdle. The silence that enveloped them seemed to cover unknown horrors. She wouldn't be surprised if the dead were found in this room.
Natasha noticed the cub move to a cubicle and flatten itself against the side. She followed suit and cocked her gun. Hearing claws scratch against the floor behind her, she turned towards the stairs. She paled as two milky eyes appeared from the steps; her gun aimed for it. The eyes immediately settled on her and the dead greyhound rushed at her, snarling. She pulled the trigger and it collapsed to the ground.
Moments later another howl came from the stairs. She watched two more greyhounds leap from the stairwell depths and rush toward her. Standing, she aimed, and a soft breath left her lips. She fired once, then twice—both falling to the ground beside the first.
A soft smile crossed her face as the stairwell remained empty. That's better. Natasha startled as a hand wrapped itself around her ankle. She collapsed to the ground with a shriek and her gun skid away from her. Another hand placed itself farther up her leg. Her eyes widened as they settled upon a dark skinned zombie. That's another missing person! Luke Cage.
The dead man moved to bite her. She kicked him in the face.
Once.
Twice.
Oh my God!
In the next instant, the cub had lunged forward onto the zombie—its claws meeting the dead man's face.
Natasha scrambled backwards, trying to both find her gun and watch as the cub slammed its paw on the zombie's head. She paled as the dead got a grip on a paw, causing the cub to snarl and snap its jaws around his wrist. In moments, the zombie's hand had been severed clean.
It was then her hand came across cold steel. Glancing down, she saw her gun. With a soft whimper, Natasha snatched it. A surprised yelp grabbed her attention.
An arm now lay on the ground next to the frightened cub. Natasha gasped as a leg landed in front of the grey cub. A silent scream past her lips as a head fell to the ground. What the hell?!
The cub then shrieked as the zombie sank its teeth into her left paw.
"No!" Natasha screamed as she pulled up the gun and fired.