Hey guys. I know it's been a while, and I know I just left with little to no explaination. But now I'm back. I will not be continuing any of the stories that I started before, no matter how much you beg or plead. I don't even want to look back on them. My writing style and plot development was, frankly, horrifying. However, I have returned as a newer, better me, and with me comes the rebooted version of "Avengers and the Half Fury". The plot isn't the same. In fact, the only thing the same is the character and the basic personality of the story. I will be trying to update once a month or more.
I hope you enjoy.
There's a legend that's been told, generation to generation, of a strange creature roaming the snow-capped peaks and thick pine forests of the northern reaches of the world. The creature is half man, half beast, with leathery wings black as ebony and glowing eyes that pierce the soul. It has been said that it can create eerie blue flames in its hands and launch them with startling precision. No one has seen this and lived to tell the tale, at least no one in the last few centuries. Sometimes, it seems as if the legend has died, because no one sees the thing for a hundred years or more. But then it will resurface, a story of a modern survivor will be told, and the legend lives on.
It has never been proven as true. Until now.
In the dark woods of southwestern Montana, a screen door creaked open and a teenage girl stepped outside. She shifted her backpack on her back and took a deep breath, brown eyes peering out at the imposing trees surrounding the house and the nearby highway. Slowly, carefully, she pulled her hood up to shroud her face in darkness and eased the door shut again, latching it behind her to ensure it wouldn't blow open in the breeze and wake anyone up. Then she started off, her shoes lightly crunching in the gravel of the driveway. She didn't look back, or pause at all, until she had walked about a mile following the darkened road and the rushing, tumbling river.
She clicked her small flashlight on and shined it down at the map she held, squinting at it as she figured out where she had to go to get to the nearest city. It would be a long walk, of nearly seventy miles, and it would take at least three days to get there. It would be worth it though. She started walking again, tucking the map into her pocket and shining the flashlight in front of her.
The girl froze when the sound of an engine approached and she flicked the light off, diving into the ditch near the road a moment later. Waiting with bated breath, she watched as a man stepped from the stopped car and approached the ditch, a flashlight held in his hand. He swept it over the area surrounding her and grumbled something. "Get out here, Erika," he ordered gruffly, his scowl only getting bigger as she didn't reply. "I'm giving you five seconds to get your ass in the back seat," the man snarled after a moment, "And if you don't, I'll put you in there myself."
The girl in question tightened her jaw and started edging toward the river, knowing she could get away from him if she could just make it there. Water wasn't her favorite thing in the world, but she'd deal with it if it meant her escape attempt would come to fruition.
She didn't make it. The man marched over as soon as his alleged five seconds were finished, pinpointing her position when she stood and made a break for the water. Just as she was about to dive in, he grasped her backpack in a rough hand and yanked her back harshly. "You even took my favorite sweater," he spat, dragging her backward and away from freedom. He pulled her to the car and opened the door, ignoring her pleas and struggling as he tossed her inside with as much care and sympathy that a lion takes with its prey.
"Give me the backpack," he demanded, holding his hand out as Erika pushed herself into a sitting position.
"No," the girl muttered sullenly in reply.
His face darkened and he surged forward, forcing her backward with his hands around her throat and pinning her to the seat. "You would do well to not refuse me next time," he snapped, glaring at her as she choked and tried to pry him off. "I said to give me the backpack."
With panic rising in her chest as her breathing was cut off further, Erika slammed her feet into his stomach with a sudden rush of strength, sending him falling back. She felt...strange, like something new was running through her veins, something hot and stinging. "And I said to keep your hands off of me," she growled, shrugging the pack off her back and stepping forward. Hate, bred by years of fear and pain, were the only things in her cold gaze now.
The pain in her intensified, but she hardly felt it anymore as she approached the man, who was standing and starting at her with confusion in his gaze. Fire sprang into existence in her palms, the blue flames illuminating her angered face and wild black hair. She wasn't sure exactly what she was doing or feeling as she launched the ball of fire at him, nor did she really care. This man had caused her so much pain through her life, she decided that he deserved this. She watched with a blank expression and uncaring eyes as he burned, the flames consuming him, and with him her prison.
A pang of guilt hit her after she fully realized what had happened, after the adrenaline had passed. But it didn't take much time to pass, as she had much more pressing matters to deal with at the moment- one being the intense pain in her spine, and the growing weight on her shoulders and back. With a small limp in her step, she approached the car and looked into the side mirror, jumping back slightly at the sight. Two large black wings had erupted from her back, and shreds of her late father's grey sweatshirt were clinging to them. She glanced down and saw a long tail, with black fins on either side of it, winding down from under said damaged sweatshirt.
Panic once again clenched her chest in a vise and she threw back her hood in terror to get a better look at her eyes, which had been brown her entire life until this moment. Now they were a dark forest green, and glowing ever so slightly. And her head...slowly, and with trembling hands, she reached up and lightly touched the top of it. Were those some kind of ear? And horns in between them? What the hell had happened to her? As she brought her arms back down and saw the shiny black scales dotting the backs of her hands, she realized that she couldn't stay here, especially since it was going to be morning in a few hours.
Erika let out a breath and closed her eyes, trying to think of a plan, trying to calm herself down enough so she could get away. She wasn't sure if she could even fly, if her new wings would be able to handle her weight, or if she would crash as soon as she launched herself up. Would she even know how to fly?
Only one way to find out, she supposed. With a sigh, she pulled her backpack on again and wriggled around until it was settled comfortably on her back and between her wings. ...That thought was still weird to her. Finally, and with hesitant steps, she passed the burnt remains of her abuser and started running toward the river. She jumped off the bank and at first, thought she was going to simply plummet down into the raging, swirling floodwaters. But then something caught. She felt the wings on her back move and her tail flick out, and her body was yanked to an abrupt halt. Instead of falling, she was floating in the air, her tail and toes dangling just inches above the water.
A giddy laugh escaped her as she figured out how to make herself go up, and she soared up with lightness of heart and the ever elusive taste of freedom on her tongue. She could go anywhere, she realized, anywhere at all, and she could get there on her own. So she pointed herself east and started flying, the wind rushing through her hair and horns and the cool whistling of it in her ears, reminding her that she was finally free.