Jayden began to stir, his eyes slowly fluttering open. He turned his head slightly. He was in some sort of hospital room. The bright white walls and the stench of disinfectant made him want to gag. He turned on his stomach and saw the bed four feet beneath him. Wait, four feet?! Jayden suddenly dropped, landing on the bed with a loud thud.
He slowly moved his hand to his forehead. He cringed when his hand moved across a large purple bruise on his head, causing him to let out a soft moan. Jayden then noticed the different cords attached to various parts of his body. He immediately yanked them off, finding them very disturbing. He looked in the mirror adjacent to his bed. His brown hair was ruffled and he had bags under his brown eyes.
He heard the door creak as it slowly opened. In walked a man in a grey suit. He had short brown hair and looked like a generally kind man.
"Where am I?" Jayden croaked. I didn't seem his voice was working swimmingly for him right now.
"SHIELD Helicarrier. We brought you here when we discovered you in a tornado with a high energy signature," The man replied, "I'm Agent Coulson, by the way."
"Jay-"
"We know who you are," Coulson cut in.
"Who's we?"
"SHIELD. We deal with the things no other agencies do."
"And what's that?"
"Supernatural things. Aliens, gods, superheroes, that sort of thing."
"And what does any of that have to do with me?"
"We have a reason to believe that acquired supernatural abilities from that tornado?"
"What reason?"
"You were floating. I think that says enough."
"So I didn't imagine that?"
"No."
"So what's going to happen to me? Where are my mom and dad?"
"I'm sorry, Jayden," Coulson said apologetically.
"What?"
"They were killed when the storm hit your home."
Jayden shook his head, refusing to believe it. "No, no, no! They can't be dead!" A sudden gust of wind washed through the room, sending Jayden in the air and causing Phil to stumble off balance. Coulson regained is balance but Jayden remained in the air.
"What have you done to me?" Jayden asked, horrified. His expression then changed, "'Cause it's freaking cool!"
"We did nothing. The energy signature in the storm had altered your DNA somehow."
"What does that mean for me?"
"We don't know yet. But we'll need a sample of your DNA."
"I guess if it'll help you, then okay."
Symphany-May felt an excruciating itch creeping up her arms and legs as she slowly drifted back to consciousness. Her eyes travelled around the room lazily, shooting up into a sitting position once she registered that she was in an unfamiliar place. She was in a large, hospital-like room that reeked of disinfectant.
She glanced down at her wrists, shrieking loudly at the sight. Vines and weeds were wrapped tightly around her arms and legs. She grabbed a looser weed from her left leg and began to tug frantically as the plants grew longer, nearing her neck. May immediately threw off the small sheet that was covering her. She shot off the bed, the cords attached her body ripping off, still attempting to rip off the vines and weeds.
Symphany-May was beginning to feel light headed, suddenly realising that she had been holding her breath. She immediately inhaled deeply, only to realize that the odour of bleach was over-powering. The small sound of a door creaking sounded, and May whipped her head to the right. She saw a man standing in the doorway. He wore a tight black spandex suit with the emblem of an eagle. He had short brown hair and a blank expression on his face.
"Who are you?" she demanded, ignoring the fact that he was about twice her size and had arrows that looked like they could do a lot of damage. Wait… arrows?! He must've been the one who had saved her in the storm. Even after acknowledging the fact, she still didn't trust him.
"Agent Barton of SHIELD," Barton said. Symphany had a feeling that he already knew who she was, so she didn't bother with an introduction.
"Is my mom okay?" she asked, the fear of knowing the answer growing.
"We need a DNA sample to further our research," Barton said, clearly avoiding her question. May's eyes began to water, blurring her vision. She knew what that meant.
"Oh no," she whispered and clutched her charm bracelet. This could not be happening! Her mom was all she had left. Her grandparents had all passed and her father's life was taken in an accident. Symphany-May started to pull of the vines and weeds, and to her surprise, they retreated into her body through her fingertips. This storm did this to her. It took all she had.
Naomi, slowly drifting back to consciousness, squeezed her eyes shut. She was afraid of what she would find. Where is she? Is she dead?
She slowly opened one eye and could see a part of what looked like a hospital room. She confirmed that when she took a whiff of the gagging smell of disinfectant. She proceeded to open her other eye. She heard a soft beeping sound coming from her left. Slowly turning her head, Naomi studied the machine. She read the information, her vitals, her temperature… Her temperature was 423 degrees!
Naomi yanked the cords of her chest and rolled out of the bed.
I don't feel hot! The machine is wrong, she thought.
The door suddenly swung open, revealing a young woman with short red hair.
"Who the hell are you?" Naomi growled.
"Natasha Romanoff," the woman replied.
"Where am I?" Naomi demanded.
"SHIELD,"
"What is that? Some terrorist organisation?" she retorted.
"No," Natasha answered coolly.
"Take me back to Melbourne," Naomi commanded.
"I'm afraid that's impossible."
Naomi decided to go for it. She burst into a sprint toward the door, planning to tackle Natasha. Natasha was too strong for her, easily deflecting the tackle. Naomi responded by balling her fists and throwing several punches. She may not get out of here but she was damn well going to try.
A few sparks began to shoot of her fists, and then a flame burst from her skin. Momentarily distracting Natasha with the sudden flame, Naomi took the opportunity to make a run for it. She pushed Natasha out of the way and dashed out the door, ignoring the blonde strands that had fallen in front of her eyes.
Natasha touched her earpiece, saying, "Patient number two-two-seven-three has escaped. I repeat, patient number two-two-seven-three has escaped."
Naomi kept on going, thankful for her years of sprint training. She was now nearing the end of the long hallway, debating whether to go left or right. She noticed many men in black suits running down the left hallway, so she turned right, hurtling fire balls behind her as she ran. She turned her head back to aim at the men when her body suddenly collided into a man. He had dark skin and stood tall, wearing a black trench coat and eye patch.
He tightly grasped her hands to keep her from escaping as Natasha came running to hand cuff her.
Naomi scowled, trying to create another flame, but to no avail. Natasha dragged the distressed girl back to her hospital room.
"You don't understand! I have nationals this week and I've worked towards this my whole life. You can't do this to me!" she screamed. Angry tears were flowing down Naomi's face. "You just can't," she said in a whisper.
"Naomi, we understand that this is all a big shock for you, but you're in quarantine."
"I don't have a disease," Naomi snorted, "But this fire thing is new."
"We don't know what it is, but until we learn more, you'll remain in this facility. We just need a DNA sample…" Natasha reached out to touch Naomi's arm.
Naomi slapped her hand away. "Don't touch me!"
Natasha ignored it and left the girl alone.
A consistent beeping sound woke Logan from his unconscious state, causing his heartbeat to speed up. The beeping began to speed up, concluding that it was a heart monitor. I must be in a hospital, he thought to himself, confirming his thought after gagging on the smell of bleach. He slowly sat up and noticed a man sitting next to the bed. He was tall and buff, with blonde hair and blue eyes.
"Hello," Logan croaked, slightly surprising the man, causing him to jump and fumble while trying to catch his newspaper.
"Hello. Steve Rogers or-" Steve began.
"Captain America! Holy monkey's bananas, I must've died. I don't care this is AWESOME!" Logan exclaimed as he took out all the IV's and tubes. "Wait, did my parents live?" asked Logan quietly, pausing and looking up at Steve. Steve frowned. Logan understood what that meant.
"No!" he exclaimed and jerked his hand back to the IV's and water shot out of it causing him to take out the rest of the tubes and study it.
"What did you do?!" he cried. A little voice in Logan's head told him he should leave, now. "You know what? Never mind. I really have to go to the washroom. Can you show me where it is?" Logan asked and crossed his legs to emphasize. Steve nodded and entered in a code that Logan committed to memory, 5-6-3-7. As soon as the door opened Logan ducked out of the room and started running to the end of the hallway where there was another door. He entered in the code and the door opened to reveal a small girl with pink and green hair. She was curled up in a ball in the corner of the room, sobbing into her knees. Logan ran over to her, causing her to she look up to reveal bright blue eyes. Logan helped her off the bed and grabbed her wrist as they ran to the next room. This time there was another girl but with blonde hair. She bubbled with anger. She looked to Logan and the girl and immediately started running. She was so fast that Logan and the blue eyed girl had trouble keeping up. They reached the final door and inside was another boy. He had dark brown hair. Instead of coming out he just sat on the bed.
"Come on," the blonde girl hissed, provoking a laugh from the boy.
"Why?" He asked and Logan started at him in disbelief, the sound of footsteps behind them gradually got louder and louder.
"We have to go, now," the pink-haired girl said quietly and Logan nodded in agreement. They began to run back down the hallway, but ran into a large group of men. The watermelon head raised her arms, a long vine, accompanied with spikes, spurted from her fingertips. The blonde's hands burst into flames. Logan, without thinking twice, let out a stream of water, forming a wall in front of them. The wall shook slightly before transforming to solid ice. There was now a stable barrier between the agents and the teenagers.
In fact, they probably would've won if it wasn't for the tranquilisers.