Chapter 154 – Hunted
154
Arthros
Sector 17A of the Negative Zone
No matter where she ran, Tempest Shadow would always hear them.
They were always around her. Always screaming at her. At first, it was just a light, just a source of potential energy for their mission. What mission? The mission. Tempest desperately needed to find the Infinity Stone, or else all of her efforts would have been for nothing. All of their efforts would have been for naught. Was there even a “their”? Why was it so damn difficult to keep her mind clear?
No matter how hard she tried to push it out, the perpetual fog that clouded her vision, senses, and mind was everlasting and inescapable. Just as they were…
It turned against her. The source of energy, of light, became a false hope as the demons removed their veils and showed themselves for who they truly were. Monsters. Insects. Alien and unnatural and horrifying in every aspect that Tempest knew to be real. And they chased her. They had found their prey and they charged, flew, and crawled towards the unicorn with feverish speed. Their cries echoed off the spiraling and towering walls of the shadowed, forbidden city.
No matter how fast she galloped, Tempest would hear them get closer. And closer.
And closer.
Until she had no choice but to teleport away and get lost in the dark.
Tempest waited several seconds until there was absolute silence in order to breathe again. When there was, when the buzzing had finally faded into nonexistence, she took in several gasps of air but instantly regretted it. The air was raw with a sickening stench of rot and ruin. Covering her snout, Tempest let her horn burn aglow in order to light up her immediate area. Whatever form of structure she had teleported inside was once a part of civilizations. Once inhabited by strange, alien creatures with lives, loves, and purpose.
All that was left was simply the opposite.
The black bile consumed the walls and floor just as it consumed the outside of the city and the streets and buildings. Due to the freezing temperatures Tempest had entered into, all of it was frozen, unlike the sickness that covered the buildings outside. That was the best that Tempest could describe it: sickness. Its stench was foul, its appearance even more so, and it covered a supposed graveyard of corpses of what once existed. Alien beings, all of them succumbed to the sickness and frozen in different states of perpetual terror and madness. Their expressions told horror stories, all of them seemingly frozen in time yet aged appropriately to show the existence of death upon their persons.
It was just death. Completely and all around her. That fog slowly began to seep inside when Tempest finally gagged and vomited.
She simply couldn’t help herself. The presence of such sickening images, the severity of the stench, and the constant screaming and growing madness in her mind made her lose all sense of security and sanity. Her stomach erupted and that familiar sickness was expelled from her jaws. The unicorn heaved until there was simply nothing left to give, Tempest quivering and whimpering within the grasp of the fog. Within the clutches of the dark.
Beyond her reach and hope, Tempest Shadow was unaware of her fellow Avenger facing similar struggles in the world outside.
Elektra Natchios nearly passed out when she collapsed dead center in the street. Though there was nothing that came for her—no sounds, no insects, simply nothing—her mind was a battle in and of itself. Her mind screamed at her. Her will begged for reason and understanding. Her deeper instincts that had saved her life on various occasions told her everything she didn’t want to hear.
You can run as much as you want, but it’ll never go away. The truth is a terrible demon to face.
Elektra’s open palms slowly curled into shivering fists upon the street.
Has it always been so easy, Elektra? Time and time again, you’re faced with odds stacked so heavily against you. Always with Murdock, enslaved to the Hand, and now giving your life and safety for people who don’t even know you. Who don’t even care about you! The ones who wouldn’t give a damn for your life and would gladly trade it if it meant sparing themselves!
The fog circled around her.
Because that’s who they are.
She gasped. Several deep breaths inwards and out. Tears welled up in her eyes as she rose to her knees and sat there. Open palms and broken spirits. Utterly shattered and fresh for the taking.
Because they never trusted you. No one ever has. The demons of the past taught you one thing: What makes you think you can trust them?
When she opened her eyes, whatever was once Elektra Natchios was overcome by the glassy fog. She gazed ahead with that dead glare, growing more and more ferocious when the comms link in her earbud came to life and the demon’s voice cried out.
Elsewhere, Clint Barton collapsed behind cover as the insects that chased him flew off in various, uncertain directions. He waited until he could see nothing else, until their bodies dispersed and the unsettling silence of the world they were trapped in fell upon his shoulders and very being once again. And once more, it was overwhelming. He gripped the object he had hidden behind in a vain attempt to rise back to his feet.
He was actively hyperventilating at that point, continuously wiping his eyes, mouth, and skin for the millions upon millions of insects he felt crawling over him. His heartbeat was growing more and more feverish, and Clint had to forcefully grab his own arm to stop himself from wiping at his skin. To a point, it felt as if he was fighting himself. Closing his eyes, Clint breathed steadily. The silence was so horrible. He could feel the blood flowing and beating through his veins. Unbearable.
When his arm finally stopped shivering, he slowly released his grip from it. His palms still shivered even as he turned them over and gazed deeply into the leather of his black gloves. Sometimes they were painted red. Sometimes he would see countless bodies of warlords, of tyrants, of criminals, of human beings surrounding him. At that point, when the fog gripped him, he saw all of it. Every body, every blood drop, and very scream reverberating around him. Around Ronin.
But he closed his eyes again, breathed in and out. In and out. In and out.
The silence was all there was when he opened his eyes. No bodies. Nothing else. “We need to get the hell out of here,” he muttered in a ragged, broken breath. Clint wasn’t thinking of the Soul Stone. He wasn’t thinking clearly about much of anything. His vision was so narrowed and his judgement was so clouded that he acted on pure instinct. Just long enough for him to bring that quivering hand to his earbud.
In the distance, he heard that familiar screech, that familiar buzzing. All of it getting closer. Turning to it with wild, animalistic eyes, Clint roared, “We need to get out! Find me!”
Pressing on his GPS, Clint activated his emergency beacon, it somehow being miraculously still active when everything else failed him. His flashlight, his reason, his mind, his sanity. All of it seemed unnatural. All of it seemed completely flipped on its head and they were left to somehow find their footing in the madness of the upside-down. He was unable to find that footing…
Especially when Elektra burst forth from the shadows and tackled him.
She heard his voice, answered his distress beacon, and came running with a clear intent. Only her intent was not to tackle him out of harm’s way. Nothing else came for them. It was just him… and her. The harm came fully from Natchios when she unsheathed her sai and jammed it directly towards Clint’s throat. In that moment where Clint had expected to only breathe blood, time had stopped. He gazed skyward to see Elektra straddling him beneath the glare of the black hole. The light it gave was barely unable to unveil the madness in her eyes.
But it was there. It was clear and it was real. The white overcome with red and black veins, sickness and pain overwhelming the Avenger and turning her into something else. Something worse. Something she wasn’t. Clint knew that, and as he slowly raised his hands, he showed her that they were open. He held no weapon, no malice against her. Nothing but his voice.
“Elektra… you need to listen to me very… very carefully…”
Tears and drool fell from her eyes and lips respectively. Like a broken, feral animal finally let loose. Something uncontrollable and unhinged after so much torment. A part of Clint’s heart broke at that realization, having heard the horror stories of the Black Sky and the hand and only now realizing what that type of torment must have done to her. Her sai inched closer to his jugular, Clint’s hands open and wide and his voice whispering to her.
Easing her. “Okay, okay, okay… easy there… It’s me. It’s me, Clint, remember? Avenger… fellow Avenger. Come on, Elektra, I need you now.”
From the shadows, Tempest burst forth and galloped forward, declaring aloud, “Clint, I got your distress signal and came as fast as I—”
What she was witness to nearly caused Tempest to spring into action. Seeing Elektra slowly close the distance between her sai and Clint’s throat forced her to ignite her horn. However, to her shock, Clint held out his right hand to her, urging her without a word to halt. To stay back. Her horn remained burning for several seconds more before Tempest finally eased in and backed away. Just in case Elektra tried anything, she kept her horn bright, the Asgardian runes glowing a soft blue in comparison to the brightness on the curved tip.
With Tempest out of the way, Clint returned his focus onto the woman straddling him, the woman just one flick forward from ending his life. The woman who needed him now more than ever. Through the madness and sickness and uncertainty clouding her eyes, deep beneath it all there was the wound. The hurt. The brokenness.
Deep down, there was someone who needed a friend to pull them back.
“Elektra… I need you… to lower your weapon,” he began under a soft, comforting tone. Elektra’s face merely broke into a further snarl, more tears slipping down her cheeks. “There is something bigger going on… something we can’t understand. It’s a big mission… an even bigger responsibility. You were pulled out of Hell expecting to do God’s work, and I know how that feels. Deep down, though… I know there’s something more. I know you’re hurting. Maybe more than me, maybe more than I ever could. But we can understand each other, and if you’ll let me… then help me understand you.”
The ferocity in her eyes had suddenly frozen, the glare breaking down and revealing something.
“I want to understand.”
Then it was those words that destroyed the wall and released the full flood upon her. She had nearly convinced herself that these people, that these Avengers meant nothing but distrust and ill will to her. She told herself that. Her instincts of which she trusted more than anyone else told her what was right and what was wrong. Saving herself, killing her demons, that was right. It would be right to finish the job and end the beast’s life like he would have for her. What was wrong would be to not listen. To give in to the false security of chance and trust.
All he really had were his words. He, and the same people who only saw her as the Black Sky, wanted to understand.
Could she really, truly… trust them?
You can’t.
Her mind told her no, but her actions played a different chord.
Her sai fell away and Clint finally breathed heavily again. He clutched his throat and waited as she brought herself away from him, allowing Clint to rise and rest in a sitting position. Much like she did when she fell to her knees and her sai crumbled to the street. Her arms slowly rose and wrapped around herself. And she cried.
The ferocity was gone, from Elektra and from Tempest’s horn. Only the shimmer of light was left, showcasing Tempest’s awestruck expression when she saw Elektra Natchios crumble and fall apart, the woman crying and shivering and holding herself as the weight of the world, the universe, and herself fell on her. To her continued astonishment, she watched Clint step forward. She watched him fall to her.
And she watched as his hug held her softly. Elektra gasped quietly at that, her tear-filled eyes gazing to nowhere as Clint’s strong arms wrapped around her, no longer her own arms to comfort her, but the arms of another. An Avenger. A fellow broken warrior. A friend. That was enough for her. That was all Elektra needed as she shut her eyes and bawled in his chest.
Clint shushed her, his own eyes growing misty to hear the familiar cries of Lila echoing from Elektra. The same cries his daughter would make when she would have a nightmare, and all she had to keep her safe from the monsters was her dad waking up in the middle of the night, rushing into her room, and holding her softly. Shushing her. Stroking her hair.
The palm that Elektra felt through her hair made her shiver. But it stopped the cries. It stopped everything.
Hearing the soft hoofsteps, both Clint and Elektra turned to meet Tempest’s gaze. From it, they saw the conformity, the smile, and the nod symbolizing the rebuilt strength they had found together. With Elektra still in Clint’s arms, she felt that especially. “I’m never leaving you two again,” Tempest told them. Clint and Elektra both smiled to that.
Tempest waved her hoof to them, beckoning them and saying, “Come on. We have one more Avenger to find.”
Natasha Romanoff barely escaped.
The demons of the past, present, and future all haunted her, all chased her, and all led her at the same time at the same place to that one moment in time. They led her to a destination she could not know, a place she could not speak of, and a destiny she could not foretell. There was a constant stream of voices screaming, echoing, and calling in her head. It was difficult to know what to follow, what to believe in. Natasha made it work and listened to the demons that mattered.
The ones that didn’t try to kill her.
Lost in the darkness, Natasha managed to escape the fog and hide within some carnage. Just the remnants of a tower and the broken structure within. She had survived far, far worse. Taking refuge within the remains of a building was no easy task, but it wasn’t the first time. She crawled and ducked and seeped deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of darkness and sickness, of black and cold. Until she couldn’t feel her legs any longer. Until the freezing temperatures made her knees buckle and she was forced to sit down.
Despite her best efforts, Natasha shivered. She curled up until her knees were pressed to her chest, her back had settled against the frozen wall behind her, and her hair began to frost over from the sweat glistening against it. Lips parted and breath escaping, Natasha could manage hardly even a breath as the air seemed to chill her insides to unsuitable temperatures. Her lungs felt strained and weak. Her heart went from a rapid beat to a slow and steady pace. Only growing slower by the second.
The daunting aspect of the outside world only spelled evil and foreboding, the demons outside the building walls only wishing to her dead at their feet. Continuously running outside meant death. Hiding in the skeleton of a fallen structure meant hypothermia, and then the inevitable pain of a freezing death. With her options limited, Natasha felt somewhat settled knowing her life would be given not in the joys of her enemies, but in their anguish to know they didn’t get the pleasure of seeing her end personally. That alone got a smidgen of a smirk out of her, before it was taken away by her constant shivers. Frozen breaths escaped her rose-rimmed lips, slower… and slower…
Until the voices she trusted told her to turn left.
And see the light.
Her pupils shivered as her body was forcefully turned by Natasha’s sheer willpower. Hidden beneath the carnage, safely protected by a piece of debris, a shimmer of light glowed softly beneath it. Reaching for it, Natasha somehow managed to push the small chunk of debris that had frozen to the ground away from her. It felt like it weighed a ton. Natasha managed and gazed fully into the light, the warmth, and the orange glow of the Soul Stone.
There it was. No illusion. No demons to tell her otherwise. No madness to cloud her better judgement. It was just her alone with the main reason they had traveled to the past in the first place. The Soul Stone shimmered and cried a soft, harmonic tune. It was enough for Natasha to close the distance and wrap her fingers around it. The gem glowed a tinge brighter upon her touch, Romanoff bringing it closer until it was mere inches from her face.
The Soul Stone lied in her glove. In her grasp, the power to control all souls in the universe was built and compacted into one shimmering gemstone. The orange illuminated her face and began to clear her mind of the fog. Leaving just the voices she knew and trusted, the ones that led her there in the first place. Giving a silent prayer and thanks to the voices of her past family, Natasha forced herself to stand. She did, and she wobbled, but stood nonetheless.
A small but very powerful victory. Natasha wanted to smile, but couldn’t and instead whipped out her pistol when she heard the rushing wind behind her.
Spinning to it, Natasha saw the demonic expression grip the likes of Tempest Shadow the moment the unicorn leapt through the debris. Her razor-sharp teeth opened as a cry of hellish proportions left the unicorn. Natasha blinked against the flash of light from her pistol’s barrel. She blinked again as she turned to avoid the collapsing body of Tempest Shadow land mere feet behind her. She blinked once more to see the cooling corpse of the unicorn begin to freeze against the earth.
Natasha felt her heart drop once the realization became reality, became a nightmare, and became something far worse when she blinked one more time.
The corpse was an insect. An unnaturally large alien insect. Not Tempest. Never was. Taking a moment to breathe a sigh of relief, Natasha was unable to react in time when the rushing wind came again. By the time she turned to face it, the alien insect attacked her. Darkness came faster than that.
Happy birthday to me! Big number 23! 
God, I'm old...
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First of all, Happy birthday
Secondly, wow, are we dealing with some sort of mutant changelings or something? This dimension sure knows how to mess with one's mind...
Intense chapter. And you're not old I'm about to be 27 in a month. Now that's old
Nice chapter!
Happy Birthday!
Congratulations on making past 700k+ words on this story!
Foreboding chapter!
Also Happy Birthday!
10018068
Dude don’t kill nat yet 😭 we need her for the last time to fight thanos I think Elektra will die and happy birthday 🎈🎁🎂🎊🎉 🤩
Oh, that's just fantastic.
Elektra, you picked the worst possible time!
Oh, good, now we don't have to run around like maniacs looking for it.
Please don't let Annihilus get the Soul Stone...
Clint, Elektra and Tempest are beginning to overcome the Negetive Zone's influence on them, but Nat's not out of the woods just yet. Hope they can find her and the Soul Stone before it's too late.
P.S. Happy birthday to you!
You think you're old? I'm 22. I don't feel old.
Ah the Negative Zone. If there is a hell, then this luckless bunch is right there.
Also happy birthday. As a 22 year old, you an old man.
Clint, Elektra and Tempest found each other.
Natasha found the Soul Stone.
Something found Natasha!
Another intense chapter!
Happy Birthday, JD!
Also, to you and 10018271...
Please. When you get to my current age of 35, then you can make that "I'm old" claim.
10018624
Fair enough
But Walmart can make you feel older than you should
10018673
You mean working there? If so, I'm in full agreement with you.
Happy birthday to you, JD. You posted another chapter to time this day perfectly.
10018678
Yeah little over a year now.
10018787
First job I had after college, for about two years.
10018795
Damn...
10018805
Happy Birthday and Bitch Please I'm 25 that's old
Happy Birthday!!!!
The team are mostly together... too bad Natasha may have been captured.
Happy Birthday!
Great chapter and congrats on passing 700+ words on your story.
First of all, Happy birthday to you!
Secondly, nice chapter, as always.
10018257 Alien insects, it's just that the Negative Zone is messing with her head.
10018296 Quite a feat!
10018336 Thanks!
10018409 Gonna have to protect the Soul Stone one last time!
10018429 Thank you!
10018575 Gonna hit you like a freight train.
10018601 We old men.
10018624 Thanks for the birthday wishes!
10018864 We're all old farts.
10018993 Definitely captured.
10019254 Thanks!
10019400 Had to use one of my favorite films last year as influence.
10019682
I’ll be 27 next month!
10019682
Gonna be 23 in March.
Why are so many of us reading this story in the early twenties?
10019756 'Cause reasons.
You know, Annihilus is kinda Lovecraftian in this (if it's him causing all the thoughts they have). I don't know if that's intentional or not, but it's cool either way!
10018864
I'm 31....
That right there is why Clint deserves to be an Avenger. He might not have any fancy superpowers, but he has incredible survival instincts that help him keep his head on straight. Even more importantly, he has a good heart and can see the best In people when they aren't in their right mind. He can keep superpowered people grounded and pull them from their own darkness.
Heck, if it weren't for him everyone would be running around like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off. He basically just saved Electra's and Temptest's flanks. He might have done some bad things as Ronin, but he shows here that ultimately didn't change who he is inside. Now the three of them just need to find Natasha as fast as they can and get out of that hellhole!
Good news: Natasha found the Soul Stone. Bad news: Annihilus found Natasha.