(My attachment to TV show and movie characters (plus some real humans) knows no bounds. Anyway, enjoy this as I contemplate my existance!)

        I looked down at my hands, falling to the ground. I lost control again.
        "Not again... Not again... Not again!" I continuously mumbled, clutching my head tightly, pulling at the roots of my hair.
        "Good. Very good." Mother whispered to me, coming over. I moved away from her, not wishing for her to touch me. She was not truly my mother, I was well aware. I knew who my mother was. I knew what she looked like. I shuddered when the woman I had been forced to know as "mother" rubbed my cheek. In this world, you were either an average human, a hero, a god, a villain or a test subject. I was one of the people to get the short end of the stick. They spliced my DNA with that of something not from this world, another young woman that would take over and kill everyone in sight. She had forced me to kill her accomplices. My "mother" was the one who let them loose with me. It was partially her fault. Now all I was was a monster, just some horrid beast. My  mother lifted me by the arm, tossing me back into my original chambers. There were many things set up in that room. I had a bed, a sink and a toilet, no privacy. It was a glass room aside from the metal components that jutted out from the walls and floor. Those were used to harness controlled electrical shocks. Mother said that they helped to "enhance my abilities" and "build up my tolerance for pain". I knew what I was to be made for. To fight her battle. To be the one she tossed into the way of flying bullets so that the rest of her experiments could stay safe. I crawled over to one of the metal plates, knowing that if I did not do as mother wanted the pain would be much greater. I saw as the floor beneath me began to spark and I instinctively bit my lip and closed my eyes, waiting for the pain to come. I felt the electricity burst through my body as I screamed out in pain, a little bit of blood dripping from my mouth from how hard I was now biting my lip. I was suspended in the air until my mother turned everything off for a couple seconds. I coughed and sputtered on my hands and knees, trying to see through blurred vision. I could smell burnt hair throughout the glass room and I immediately knew that the ends of my hair had been singed off. Suddenly, the electricity picked up again and I cried out once more, feeling my muscles tensing up. Through squinted eyes I saw something red and blue whiz through the air and hit my mother, sending her to the ground. Her men instantly swarmed out as I began to see other far more colorful figures begin fighting them off. Eventually, somehow, they did. I could barely open my eyes as I screamed louder in an attempt to alert anyone around to help me. If they didn't notice me, I could be stuck here forever. Fortunately, a giant blurry red blob did see me. They moved over to the panel and shoved something in it, causing everything in the room to shut down. I gasped and coughed and sputtered like before, only now I was laying down completely. I couldn't move. I looked up, still unable to see who had rescued me or what they looked like. They raised their hand and a bright light shone out as the glass broke. I struggled with my consciousness, but I lost it in the end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°¤°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        I woke up in a different room. I sat up quickly, panicking as soon as the information made impact on my brain. Then, I remembered that they had saved me, and I realised what I might have done to them. I walked downstairs to see them cleaning wounds that those guards couldn't have caused. I couldn't help but cry at the pain I'd caused the people who'd help me. I allowed my knees to give out from under me as I slid to the floor against a wall that I had been standing in front of. I knew they would send me back now that they knew how dangerous I was. I saw the dark cuts that dripped red and black. I couldn't live with myself knowing what I had don't to them and so many others. It hurt too much. One of them came over to me and I flinched, backing away. When I felt his hand touch my shoulder it... it didn't hurt. I looked up at him, then to my shoulder. He was... rubbing it.
        "W-... what is this? What are... what are you doing?" I asked, choking on tears as I continued to look from him to my arm.
        "I'm... rubbing your arm... gently..." The man replied, his eyebrows furrowing. Gentle? He thought this was gentle? When mother used that word she hit me, shocked me, burned me, poked me!... Just with less conviction and she wasn't trying as hard.
        "I think that... that you have the w-wrong defin-n-nition of that word." I responded, chuckling shakily. The man before me looked dumbfounded. I looked behind him and so did the others.
        "What's your name, miss?" The man asked, looking at me.
        "(Y/n). Do you ha-have one? A name, I mean." I asked, staring at him hopefully.
        "I'm Thor, son of Odin." He told me, smiling lightly, though it faded somewhat quickly.
        "Th-Thor Odinson? L-like in the books!?" I exclaimed, surprised at this. Mother never let me to read, only normal children (or people) got to do that, but one of her guards liked me enough to give me books to read every once in a while. One of them featured two brothers, Loki and Thor, gods of another realm.
        "Yes," He chuckled, "like the books."
        "(Y/n)." Someone said from behind Thor.
        "Yes?" I asked, looking towards him.
        "That's your name, yes? (Y/n)?" He asked, coming closer. Once more I backed up, unprepared to trust everyone.
        "It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you... I want to help." He said, reaching his hand out to me. I nodded meekly.
        "Take my hand." He said. I reached out, but then I saw the deep gash on his arm and I backed away.
        "N-no... I... I hurt you..." I whispered, on the brink of tears once more.
        "No you didn't. I can tell that it wasn't you. Not the true you. Take my hand." He said again.
        "What's your name?" I questioned, taking hold of his outstretched hand. He pulled me up.
        "Tony Stark." He stated proudly. Two names. I only have one. I didn't need two, though. One was plenty. Tony smiled at me. I really need to teach them how facial expressions really work.