Here is Chapter Four! Sorry for the two-month wait; this chapter really had me stuck...Title: Corpse Flower

Title: Corpse Flower

Rating: M

Summary: My mind is a dark place, an endless abyss filled with horrors that no sane person could ever dream of. Everything I care about is gone, and I am constantly on the run as I struggle to control my demons. But my dark past is rapidly catching up with me, and my sanity continues to slip by the day. It hasn't helped that I'm now stuck with a bunch of egotistical superhumans, either. I just hope I don't end up killing them, too.

Warnings: Schizophrenia, Cannibalism, Extreme Gore, Masochism, Sadism, Torture, Graphic Descriptions of Illness, Graphic Descriptions of Corpses, Slight Necrophilia, Hallucinations/Delusions, Unreliable Narrator

Author Notes: Heed the warnings, as always.

Enjoy, and don't forget to read, review, like, favorite, and follow!

"You what?!"

Tony winced as the SHIELD Director's harsh, grating voice bit at his ears, making the incessant pounding in the back of his head declare its irritation. "You heard me for the first time, didn't you? He got away."

"And what in God's name made you think that that was okay?" Hill demanded from beside her superior, cocking her hip to the side and glaring harshly at the injured man. "Do you even begin to understand the severity of your actions?"

Stark frowned deeply, pushing back in his rolling chair and rising slowly with a wince. "Begin to understand what, exactly? Because what I know is that—once again, might I add—that SHIELD has left me in the dark!"

"Don't get your shorts all in a twist, Stark. It's not all about you." She narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together, shaking her head roughly. "Certain aspects of his file were purposely left out."

"Mental illness isn't something you want to leave out! Even I know that!"

Fury narrowed his eye, crossing his arms over his chest. "And you never realized that with the list of crimes that were in the file that there might be a chance of mental illness? How simple-minded can you be?"

Stark curled his lip back, glaring at the aged African American man. "I prefer the term pragmatic, thank you very much."

"Enough, Tony. Can you tell us anything about what you saw?" Maria intervened, her expression softening slightly as she looked towards the scientist once more.

With a heavy sigh, Tony leaned against the nearest desktop counter, wincing as his bandaged and bruised body protested. "Other than the fact that he was literally contemplating whether or not to eat me?" His expression became darker, and his eyes were hooded and shadowed. "That kid...what do you even know about him?"

"Everything we do know about him is in the file you were supposed to read," Maria retorted, raising an eyebrow.

"You see, I know that's a lie." Tony straightened and began to pace, despite the pain throbbing in his head and throughout his body. "There's something wrong with him. And I'm not just talking about his cannibalistic nature."

Maria's frown deepened, and she tilted her head to the side. "What are you talking about?"

"Did you know that Daniel was captured and experimented on by government agencies?" Stark demanded, clenching his hands into fists. "Who am I kidding—of course you know. But he was so determined to—you know, what? Forget what I said."

Fury glared, stepping forward and getting in the inventor's face. "Finish your sentence, Stark."

"Or what? You'll lock me up like some kind of pet? I don't think so."

And with that, Tony Stark was gone.

I cried out as a heavy, booted foot collided with my side, leaving me gasping for breath as tears leaked out of the corner of my eyes.

He loomed over me, rage and maniacal desire burning in his eyes.

I groaned as he pulled me up by my bloodstained hair, hissing at him and baring my teeth in a defiant snarl.

"You will give me your soul. I will consume the very entirety of you, and there is nothing—nothing—you can do to stop me!"

I gasped as an aching fire tore my body, but I fought through the pain and forced myself to grin at him.

"There's nothing that's keeping me from trying."

A faint flicker of surprise shone in his eyes, and then he was kicking me in the side once more, baring his teeth and snarling viciously.

"You idiotic, ignorant human!" He was all but roaring at me, fury filling his very being as he trembled with each step he took towards me. "Do you really think you can defeat me? That you can defy me? You, nothing but a measly, disgusting insect?"

I coughed, and the bitter metallic taste of blood formed in the back of my mouth. "You can't do anything to me. You're not real."

"I'm not real?"

I snarled at him as he pulled me up again, his fangs bared and his forked tongue flicking out at me.

"Is that true, my dear boy? Then why are you in so much pain?"

Shifting in his grasp, I bit back a groan of pain as a vicious fire tore through me. "Because I'm in a dream and...and you can't hurt me physically. So none of this is real."

"Then what are the bruises and scars you wake up with from?"

He laughed as realization dawned on me, and I glared at him as he threw me to the side.

"Finally figured it out, have you? I am forever real, and I will forever harm you. Because, my dear boy, I am your worst nightmare."

My eyes shot open, and I lurched to the side to choke up a startling amount of blood. Damn dreams were starting to affect me even more.

Groaning as my head began to pound, I laid back on my makeshift pallet and covered my eyes with an arm. There was a faint throbbing making its gradual way through the rest of my body, just another irritation to add to the list.

The incident with the armored man was clear in the back of my mind. The monsters in my head had taken over my body, but I had been free to watch.

But you didn't want to kill him. Why not?

I scowled and turned to lay on my side, letting out a deep breath. "I don't want to kill anymore."

So you weren't hungry?

"I've never eaten a human corpse before. Or any unusual corpse, for that matter."

But you find appeal in the thought, don't you?

My hands were trembling now, and my breathing was becoming hoarse and shaky. "I can survive enough on my own."

You weakling. You know you're not getting any better. Why haven't your wounds healed yet?

"W...Wounds?"

My body screamed at me, a horrific cacophony of pleas and cries for help. Heat raced through my limbs, and I found myself staggering as the ground lurched and groaned violently beneath my feet.

See? You've got nothing. No power, no strength, no resolve. You are nothing but a weak little brat.

No, I'm not. I will become stronger. I have to.

What? So you can try and stop your inevitable fate?

A growl rumbled in the back of my throat as I rocked back and forth, struggling to keep my breathing even. "There is no such thing as fate."

You're caging yourself in, you know. Being backed into a corner does things to a person.

Hmph. Fate and cages. They were more similar than one would care to believe.

The Master of Time whispered to the bloody, deranged warrior, primal rage flashing in the depths of his crimson gaze.

He leaned over the restrained ex-human—the monster that had destroyed so many of his own kind and had taken countless lives, who had extinguished species after species—and narrowed his eyes.

"You cannot withstand the storm."

The warrior smiled back, venom dripping from his tongue and eyes.

"I am the storm."

The pale, blue-skinned beast let out a heavy sigh, a sound that personified his endless weariness. "Then let me tell you this. Do not venture gently into that good night."

The warrior's eyes deepened as ageless crimson eyes fixed onto what little remained of his soul. He watched the movements of the Time Master above him, an abysmal amusement in burning in some strange mixture of emotion.

A faint light shone from beneath ethereal sky blue skin as the larger monster tilted his head and stared coldly down at the shackled beast. "Rage. Rage on and push against the dying light."

The monster laughed, his forked tongue running over sharpened teeth. "Or what?"

His tail writhing beneath him, the Time God moved so he was nose-to-nose with the shackled man.

"Complete what you have come to do, or I will come to devour your very existence."

He waved his staff, and then the world was enveloped in darkness.

He watched as the monster before him shifted in his seat, his arms pulling at the restraints that bound him.

A shudder went down his spine as those haunting crimson eyes fixed on him.

"Hey, there. Do you mind loosening these a bit? My range of motion is a bit limited, and I can't feel my arms anymore."

He arched his back and grimaced as a wave of electricity raced through his body, baring his teeth and snarling as he rocked in his chair.

"Shut it, ghost boy. You have no idea what kind of mess you're in, do you?"

The ghost glared up at the federal agent through bloodstained hair, ruby eyes filled with rage and hunger. "Bastard." His hips jerked forward and the chains creaked ominously. "The pain only gets me off, agent."

His chilling scream filled the air as a violent surge of electricity ran through his body once more.

The smaller of the two federal employees shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses. "Boss, how are we going to get information out of him if he's screaming his lungs out?"

"Shut up. This monster deserves to pay for what he's done."

The young man chained in the chair began to laugh, a cataclysmic and degrading sound that sent chills throughout the room. His eyes burned with a feral, yearning light as he glared at the two federal agents before him. "You think I'm a monster? That's not what I am."

"Oh, really?" the first man snapped before his partner had a chance to stop him, stepping forward and leaning down to sneer at the half-human. "Then what are you?"

"You're degrading me," the deranged ghost hissed, trailing his tongue over exposed razor-sharp teeth as his body shook violently. "By calling me a monster, you're classifying me with the worst of the worst, the dregs in the pits of hell, the beasts no one wants to know about. I am not a monster. That's what you call me to make you feel better."

"That's enough." The elder agent flipped a switch on the wall, and then the room became black for but a brief moment. Without warning, violent crimson lights began to flash and then an alarm was sounding as, with a heavy and mechanical groan, the reinforced metal doors of the prisoner's cell hissed shut.

"You fool." The larger of the two agents turned on his heel to glare at his companion. "You know not to provoke the monster. Weren't you taught that before you came here? That Phantom is not to be trifled with?"

Eyes widening a bit in shock and embarrassment, the other man looked away and frowned, crossing his arms over his wide chest. "My apologies, sir. It won't happen again."

"Good. Now we've got some work to do. I'd better not see you or hear that you've messed with Phantom."

"Yes, sir."

I was floating in a dark, furious wasteland filled with lust and hunger. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that I was physically trembling and breathing harshly.

Why won't you give in?

Why won't you let us in?

You know you want to...

I groaned and turned over on my side, wrapping my arms tight around my torso. It was nothing but a dream. They couldn't hurt me here. Not now.

A dream? Is that the lie you've been telling yourself?

I moaned and writhed on my bed, sweat drenching my skin and my throat working hard to filter air into my lungs. My actions only seem futile, and I continued to tremble as I shook my head back and forth, my raven hair tangling in violent locks all around me and spreading out in vicious waves over my makeshift pillow.

My nails dug deep into my skin, drawing a deep moan from the back of my throat. Pain. I had to feel pain. It was the only way I felt truly alive.

I had to draw myself back to reality. I had to physically feel, if not only for the protection of those around me. My other half drew some sort of twisted, maniacal pleasure in mentally and physically degrading others. The pain gave me control over my senses and helped me fight to stay in control of my own body.

Those dark and endless eyes were boring into my soul. I knew there was no escape, nothing that could keep me from my inevitable fate.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but your words carve deeper than any knife ever will.

Reciting truths, now, are we? You're not even trying to convince yourself anymore.

What's the point? You contradict everything I say.

Enough of that. You know you are—

Nothing but a coward, aren't you? A weak, pathetic, insignificant worm!

I gasped and found myself smiling, my cracked and bleeding lips curled back to expose my unnaturally sharp teeth.

Leaves in my hair, demons in my head, agony in my veins, madness in my mind, hatred in my soul, storm in my heart.

Storm in my heart, demons in my head, leaves in my hair, madness in my mind.

Crazy. Wild. Uncontrollable. Untamable.

Nothing but a beast.

Numb.

You're broken. Can't be fixed, can't be saved, can't be healed.

You can't break what's already been broken.

Are you happy?

No.

"Yes."

So why do you lie?

"It's better that way. I'm better off that way."

By trying to convince yourself?

"So others won't see the complete and utter mess I am."

No one answered. No one asked questions.

My body finally relaxed, and I drifted off into yet another land lingering between the depths of consciousness and sleep.

Tony Stark paced the length of his lab, his arms crossed gingerly over his chest and his bandaged fingers drumming out an incessant, nameless rhythm.

"Jarvis, give me a report."

"Apologies, sir, but the scans are not showing anything. It appears our target has cloaked himself rather well."

"Rather well means there's something not well about it. Keep digging."

"Of course, sir."

With a sigh, the scientist leaned against a nearby countertop and ran a hand over his face. He really had no idea what he was doing, but all he knew was that he had to find the kid before SHIELD got a hold of him.

"Sir, I believe I have found something."

Stark visibly perked up, looking from over his bandaged hands. "Hit me."

"There have been strange phenomena surrounding a small town up north. Despite the fact that it is currently spring, regular bouts of flurries, thunderstorms, and morning frost have been plaguing it for the past week."

"Any idea what he's doing there?"

"The most logical guess would be hiding from his pursuers."

"Thanks for the snark. Send the coordinates to my suit and warm her up."

"Very well, sir."

I woke with a start, my body trembling and sweat coating my skin. Something had woken me, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

Get up and hide right now, Daniel.

My hands twitching uncontrollably, I scrambled out of my bed and allowed my body to become invisible and intangible. What is going on?

There is someone on the roof.

I felt my heart rise to my throat, and a wave of heat and nausea washed over me. You know I can't—

You have no choice. You cannot be captured again. You will not be captured again.

No! I can't kill again!

Daniel, listen to me. You've killed before; don't deny it. You have to in order to stay safe, and that is exactly what you have to do now.

Don't justify my actions. I will be held accountable. I'm sure about that.

You can be sure once you've gotten rid of your pursuer.

I flinched as a heavy thud sounded on the apartment roof, my hypersensitive hearing making the noise much louder than it needed to be. A scowl pulled back my lips as a faint ringing sounded in one of my ears, and I hissed and pressed the heel of my palm against it in an effort to make it stop.

Focus on your breathing. It will make the ringing go away for now.

I stifled the whine that was threatening to rise in the back of my throat by shoving my hand into my mouth, my sharpened teeth easily sinking into my skin. An explosion of rotten iron filled my mouth, and I rocked with the effort of holding back my moans and cries.

The sounds on the roof were steadily coming closer, each resounding thud sending a chill down my spine. Maybe this was all just a dream. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me. I had trouble distinguishing the thin line between truth and reality, and my decisiveness was slowly being corrupted and spoiled by irrationality and the darkest desires that rested at the bottom of my slow-beating heart.

I frowned as I realized that the supposed footsteps on the roof had stopped and that the ringing in my ears had subsided. Slowly rising to my feet, I took in a deep breath to steady myself and slowly moved over to the window.

Daniel, do not go over there. Nothing good will come out of it.

Nothing good ever happens because of my curiosity, I snapped back, my fingers twitching at my sides. I was too restless—should anyone decide to attack me, I doubted I would be able to fend them off long before my other half decided to take over. I knew that both my physical and mental states were drastically weakened—the state that switching between my normal self and the beast within drained me more than I cared to account for.

You make it seem like you have a say in the matter, my boy. I only take over when you realize you're too weak to fight.

We both share the same body. If I'm weak, that means you are.

A sinister chuckle echoed in my head, making me grimace and narrow my eyes. You have yet to experience the full range of our abilities, boy.

You already know my answer to that. My head turned sharply as I sensed a presence looming close to the window, which I had left ajar as a result of my core being out of sync and my body temperature no longer being regulated as it should have been.

An unintentional growl escaped the back of my throat as I picked up the scent of human flesh nearing me. Recognition sent a shudder down my spine before I could stop it, and I found myself trembling from head to toe as I literally backed myself up into a corner.

It was the man I had attacked all of those days ago—who am I kidding; it could have been weeks, for all I know—and the one I had, for some reason, allowed to escape with his life and dignity, albeit injured and humiliated.

Don't let him escape this time. Make sure you finish the job.

Oh? I thought you didn't want to kill anymore, Daniel.

Kill him kill him kill him

A moan burst forth as something similar to some sick, twisted pleasure or horror overcame me, and I was gasping as my skin became slick with sweat. I couldn't give in—I would not give in.

The armored man's scent was becoming stronger in the cold, violent wind, and in my terror, I felt the temperature of the room drop significantly. God, no. I was losing control again. I couldn't afford to. Not now, not now, not now.

You can do this. You can do this. You can stop doing this. You will stop doing this.

A rush of adrenaline filled me, but I took it by the throat and strangled the life out of it. Adrenaline was nothing but a myth, and it did not a single thing to help you.

It was then that I looked up from my seat in the corner of the room and saw the crimson and gold mask of the man I almost killed and was struggling not to do so now.

Stark moved slowly, taking in his surroundings with a careful, wary eye. Inwardly, he could not help but feel a sense of bitterness rise up in the back of his throat in a steady flood. There was just something about rundown, moldy hotels that made him want to turn right back around and bolt out of there.

The silence followed him like a wolf stalking its prey, its claws scratching with a contradictory delicacy. Perspiration trickled in a briny river down the valleys of his skin, and he felt condensation build up beneath his mask as he found himself struggling to keep his breathing even. The events of his last encounter with this thing—this thing that was posing as human, that had fought against its urges to devour every little bit and piece of him—was still fresh in the back of his mind, and the insistent aches and pains that throbbed throughout his body were a constant, vigilant reminder that he was not as strong as he thought he was.

An owl hooted in the forest of the night, and he let out a shaky breath as he continued on across the weather-beaten roof.

His scanners beeped, startling him out of the eerie desolation of his thoughts. Shaking his head to regain his composure, Tony paused to look around.

He hadn't traveled far, and the weight of the cold, dreary night pressed heavily on his shoulders. The ache that had been lingering in his head was beginning to stir, and he pressed his lips together and wished that he had taken his medication before he had left.

The strange energy signal he had picked up mere seconds ago was rapidly fading, thrumming in and out of existence in a panicked, staccato rhythm. Something was happening to the boy to make his energy levels spike and surge like that. But the signal wasn't physically moving, so the scientist knew that he was in a room somewhere out of reach of the general public.

Please...please, don't make me do it.

Tony clenched his teeth together and forced down the urge to turn and get the heck out of there. The tendons and veins visibly stood out on his neck, hands, and arms as he stamped down the most basic, primal urge hidden deep within him—the simple fight-or-flight instinct.

Don't do that. Don't scream—please...I can't handle—I'm so, so hungry...

Lurching on his feet, the aches and pains in his body screamed their existence as the inventor made his legs cooperate, taking him mere steps closer to his quarry.

"Enough of that," he muttered aloud to the cold, unforgiving night air. "He's just a boy. He can't hurt you."

Much.

Something like an incensed groan escaped his lips, and he suddenly felt the urge to slap himself in the face. He couldn't afford to be paranoid and trembling in his boots like a toddler worried about the monster beneath his bed, not when so much was at stake—his life, for example—and he had come all of this way.

With the icy glare of the moon at his back, he came to a stop near the edge of the roof. Activating his boot and gauntlet thrusters, Stark hesitated in the air.

The window was open as if someone was expecting his arrival.

A pure white curtain waved in the suddenly colder wind, beckoning him inside.

With a wary glance over his shoulder, the scientist flew inside and landed as quietly as he could while clad in a metal suit.

The room was as normal as a motel room ought to be—the wallpaper was torn and stained, the carpet had the look of being vacuumed one too many times, and there was that lingering and nauseating smell of mothballs and human perspiration. The smell, however, did not permeate the room, and it only seemed to come from the area near the window.

Replacing that smell was the declarative and violent presence of iron—more specifically, blood.

A flash of toxic emerald appeared in the corner of his peripheral vision, and he tensed and readied for an attack.

"The blood is mine..."

Tony's body coiled like a snake preparing to attack its prey, and his scanners searched the area frantically in an attempt to ease his panicked mind.

"You know I'm s-sick...but I don't want...to hurt you..."

Tony narrowed his eyes as a soft, broken voice echoed towards him. Raising his gauntlet to allow the arc reactor's energy to serve as a light, he shone it across the room in an effort to find the owner.

A flash of shadow darted across his field of vision, and then a feral hiss sounded. There was a loud scrambling, scratching noise, nails of glass stretching over a worn chalkboard. "D-Don't...turn it off. H-He...I—we don't like the light."

Stark hesitated, but slowly did as told. "Where are you?"

"It's...better if you don't know. I can see you, but you don't want to see me."

"I can be the judge of that," the scientist countered. "You're just scared and alone. I know how that feels."

The boy whined, a strange and eerie, high-pitched sound that caused the throbbing in Tony's head to declare its appearance once again. "I—I don't like judgment. It...they judged me and I ended up...this way."

"I can help you. But you need to be honest with me. I need to know what's wrong before I can help you."

There was a faint pause in which heavy, ragged breathing could be heard.

"Y-You promise not t-to judge m-me?"

Stark sighed and felt the urge to run his hand over his face. "Look, kid. It's in human nature to judge because it's what we do. But I'll try my hardest, okay?"

Those abysmal radioactive green eyes blinked once at him before changing into a long, cold stare. "Break your promise...and I break you, okay?"

Tony Stark sighed and settled into a more comfortable position. It definitely was going to be a long night.

So Tony's trying to get to know Danny better...if that's what you want to believe. I feel like my writing was all over the place with this, so I apologize for that. Also, Danny has advanced senses, so he can smell/hear/see/taste/touch things and get an extremely sensitive vibe from them (hence the use of hypersensitivity somewhere in this chapter).

Any grammatical/spelling/typing errors, feel free to point them out. I may have missed a few.

Don't forget to review, pleaze! I need to know what you all think!