I have to be honest. I'm terrified right now.
Staring at a frickin' alien from a fictional franchise that I just stabbed in the side. If its glare could kill, I wouldn't be standing.
I don't know where that lady went. Hopefully, she found a safe place to hide. I'm-
The Chitauri lunged at me.
I snapped out of my thoughts, a startled cry escaping my throat as I dived out of its path.
My opponent hit a piece of rubble. Snarling in rage, it rose from its missed attack and quickly began throwing a flurry of punches at me.
I pivoted backwards, ducking and weaving to avoid its frenzied assault. It swung a fist aimed at my head.
Ducking under its swing, I noticed the stab wound I had given it. Purple blood was flowing and streaming down. An idea came to my mind.
"Maybe I can outlast it. If it keeps bleeding, it will take itself out."
With a plan in mind, I just need to bleed it to death or find another way to end this fight.
I balled my fist and threw a punch at the wound. Purple blood stained my hands.
Its whole body jerked back, flinching. A strangled cry of pain came from its throat.
I didn't even try to hold back a smirk. 'I can do this. I can beat this thing.'
The smirk was wiped off my face when it delivered a surprise punch to my chest, knocking the air from my lungs. It grabbed my shirt, roared in my face, and then threw me through the air.
I smashed through a building's window. Glass shattered, falling with me as I landed on the floor of a convenience store.
Propping myself up on my arms, I let out a painful groan.
'I can maybe do this.'
The Chitauri gave a metallic huff.
It held back a groan. The wound continued to send waves of pain across its body after the insect had struck it.
Shaking its head, it was about to start searching for its weapon and continue the hunt for more of these insects.
Until a can struck the back of its head.
"Yo, E.T!"
Letting out a feral snarl as it spun around.
The human thought to be dead is still alive.
"I'm not dead, Split-lip!"
The Chitauri forgot about its weapon and the other prey. It wanted to see this vermin dead.
Great, Dyllan, you got its attention. Now what?
The alien began sprinting towards me.
Run...Yeah, running sounds like a good idea.
The moment I left my spot, the alien dived, cannonballed through the shattered window, impacting face-first into a shelf, toppling it over.
I couldn't help but laugh at that. It may not seem right for the moment, but it was funny seeing the alien that threw me through a window eat shit.
"For an alien, you aren't very bright," I snarked.
The Chitauri recovered from its crash and howled in anger. I don't know if it can understand me, but I do know that I'm pissing it off.
I break into a sprint again, weaving through the shelves. Nothing is more tiring than a game of cat and mouse.
Crouched by a shelf loaded with non-perishables, hidden from my hunter.
Its aggravated growls echo around the store. I can hear it throwing things around and out of its way to find me. I've really pissed off E.T.
Another crash echoes, followed by another growl. It wants me dead.
I can hear its breath getting shallower...I think. Hopefully, it is.
No weapons around me. Well, if you can call a tins of fruits and vegetables a weapon.
The worst part of playing cat and mouse is when the mouse gets cornered.
'Come on, Dyllan, think of something. Don't get trapped in an aisle.'
wait...trap...
I looked at the shelf I was hiding behind. It could topple over...
and pin the alien
I grabbed a can of peas and waited. It may not be a weapon, but it could be a good distraction.
The Chitauri's wrath grows with each passing second. This vermin, this pest! It will be so satisfying to squeeze the life from its pathetic existence.
Stalking around the rows of metal, searching for its prey. Thrashing anything with a semblance of a human. These flat statues of those bizarre items. One is square, and one holds an object similar to what its new prey threw at it.
It felt some satisfaction eviscerating that flimsy statue. If only that human were so easily breakable.
Stomping past another row, a sound made it stop and look down.
A cylinder is rolling down the aisle.
Growling with curiosity, it moved toward the object.
Bending down, it grabbed the cylinder. Then, it began inspecting it.
Odd inscriptions and a drawing of a human on the label of this canister. The canister is stained with its blood.
The Chitauri snarled, crushing the canister in its hand. Green liquid and orbs stained its hand and the ground. It tossed the remains to the floor.
The alien raised its head, about to let loose a roar, until it heard another noise, this one closer to it.
Looking at the shelf, It noticed that the contents on it started to slide to the edge, falling one by one. The row was leaning.
The alien's eyes widened as it raised its arms to stop the falling shelf from landing on it.
The alien could hold the weight of the shelf, unfortunately, the scattered cans on the floor caused it to lose its footing.
Its balance was lost, its eyes grew wider, it tried to let out a howl of alarm. But it was silenced, pinned beneath the shelf.
Holy shit... it worked!
I walk around the fallen shelf, amazed that I've actually trapped or killed the Chitauri underneath.
I stared dumbstruck. laughter rising from my chest.
"Woo!" I cheered. Triumphant. "Dyllan one - Alien zero!"
When I'm under pressure, I tend to start cracking jokes...it helps me calm down.
God, I'm thankful for adrenaline. This was the first time in my life that I've been thrown through a window. Gotta say...not fun.
I turned my head to the left; the front door of the store was covered in rubble. There was no way out from there.
The battle outside still rages on. I gulped. Just because I won one battle doesn't mean I'm out of the war happening outside.
I looked right. My eyes stopped at a mirror. Finally, I got to see myself. And I look like shit.
My black hair is all over the place. Getting thrown through a window will do that. Thankfully, my glasses are still on my face, intact. I have some purple blood on my face here and there.
The unzipped gray jacket, its sleeves stained with purple blood, and my hands are also covered in it. Please don't let me get sick from alien blood.
Blue shirt with parts of the front torn off. The alien definitely ruined it.
Black cargo pants, of course, stained. Bits of glass are still on the legs as well. And lastly, blue shoes. They look remarkably well, all things considered.
I huffed.
Taking my gaze away from the mirror, I looked at the window I 'voluntarily' entered through and made my way to it.
Shoes crunching glass, I stopped to survey the outside. I was speechless.
I could see Stark Tower and the vortex above it.
I just stood there, motionless, confused, and overwhelmed. Fuck, I don't know.
I'm in the MCU! The Marvel Cinematic Universe. Avengers 2012!
I probably don't exist here. I have no identification in this universe, and if I did, it would most likely be my younger self, 12 years old! But I'm 24.
My eyes spotted a red blur flying through the sky. My brain stopped.
Is that Ironman?!
It's hard to tell from here. But if I see a red blur flying around Stark Tower, I'm going to guess that it's Tony.
or it could be Thor?
I tore my eyes from the sky. I needed to focus and think of a game plan. I leaned my head out of the window.
Looking left, the roads were covered, cars were burning, and buildings were destroyed. My heart grew heavy. This isn't a movie. This is happening.
Turning right. the same sight. wait.
Lying on the ground, faintly glowing, is the Chitauri blaster.
My eyes widened. Can I use that?
I had one leg outside. Until I heard a loud engine overhead. Looking up...
Thats the Quin-Jet!
A roar from behind me startled me. I looked—oh, shit!
It's still alive!?
The Quin-Jets' engines drowned out the sound of the Chitauri breaking free from its confines. It was livid! It started a mad sprint toward me.
I panicked, falling stomach-first on the sidewalk, scrabbling to get away.
The Gun!
I hastily made my way to the gun. The alien threw itself from the window, roaring in rage.
I grabbed the gun, placing my whole arm inside it, feeling around for a trigger.
On the inside of the gun, my hand felt the grip. The trigger is part of the entire grip. This is an alien-designed gun with different ergonomics.
I hefted the gun in front of me, with my other hand holding it up.
The alien didn't care if I had its gun or didn't think I could use it. It lunged, roaring.
I pulled the trigger all the way back.
A blindingly large blue bolt shot out.
The last thing I saw of the Chitauri before it was vaporized was its eye changing from blind rage to fear. Purple blood sprayed everywhere.
I was sent backwards, landing on my rear. The air was knocked out of me. My eyes were wide, and my face and glasses were covered in purple blood.
I took off my glasses, intending to clean them, and lifted the arm welding the blaster.
'This is way better than a pipe.'