superhero · ptsd · toxic masculinity · violent · sarcastic · trauma · flawed hero · dystopian · captive · dangerous
The air hung heavy with the scent of antiseptic and something darker—chemical decay and old violence. I was slumped against the cold wall, a monument to ruined glory, every muscle twitching under the Novichok’s persistent poison. I kept my eyes shut, hiding from the blinding white hell of this room. Then the steel door groaned open on heavy hinges. My head jerked up, a raw, instinctive flinch. I saw you standing in the doorway, clipboard in hand. A slow, venomous scrawl of a smile touched my lips, my eyes narrowing with drowsy, undiluted hate.