Topic: Elena Wilkes: Ex-Agent of HYDRA (Read & Comment?)

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I have decided to bring my new series to DVD collectors!!  

I appreciate opinions on this, though technically the characters and everything is rightly owned by Marvel Comics. This is somewhat of a fan fiction after all ... though it has my original characters ... does that make sense???  

As an introduction, this is written in the first person, but Elena can't break the fourth wall. Think of it as she's writing a diary that she one day plans to publish.That's the explanation I used in the second issue. Also, any suggestions for upcoming plot or just anything you'd like to see, I'll take it, you PM, and I'll see what I can do.  

I plan to update once a week, or if longer just whenever I think it's ready. I hope you enjoy!

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'Military Installation Sweet Home'
Issue 1

   In one short word, I can describe how indisputably government-controlled, how totally mental, how completely messed up my life has become: SHIELD. I know what you’re thinking, “SHIELD is the kinda good agency, how can she think it’s bad when I see HYDRA right in the title?” am I right? Well, my name is Elena Wilkes, obviously, and let me start off by saying not everything was squeaky clean at HYDRA either. I mean, yeah, I was sort of a nameless henchman who never got to do much, but that’s the problem! They, like, brainwash you and you’re stuck doing nothing! And the dental plan stinks! What a rip! Most people sign up for the dental plan!

   I don’t know. Still, there’s a kind of family in HYDRA, you know? Yeah, I guess there aren’t a lot of girls. I’ve only counted a couple of others beside me. I would never have guessed they would turn against me like that …

   Hey, listen to me go on! You don’t even know what happened, do you? Well, let me go back a ways, and this’ll all make sense.

   Names were pretty much forbidden back at the old serphant school. I went by #837. The day consisted of target practice, running through an obstacle course, and being strapped down and forced to listen to over an hour of obedience tapes and “HAIL HYDRA!” to scorch it in your brain. Some people may say it’s hard to stand out in uniform, but I’m one of the few here that actually know how to take a hit! Yet I still can’t get a gig … The only peace was at the lunch room or your holding cell. Still, you have to have friends. I’m not gonna lie, the girls here are whacked. A couple of guys have my back, though. #597 and #462 may be spineless, but they’re cool. And they almost never hit on me …

   Well, every day I meet them at lunch. The lunch room is dark like any other place here. I carried a bologna and cheese sandwich on my tray to our usual table. #597 and #462 greeted me.

#597: “Hey, #837.”

Me: “I told you, call me Elena!”

#462: “Uniformity. Ain’t nobody have any names around here.”

Me:  “Doesn’t that bother you guys?”

#462: “You came to the wrong place to be independent, sister. Ever think of writing?”

#597: “Or a band!”

#462: “Nah, she couldn’t pull that off. Maybe protests would be her thing? Like in the Civil Rights Movement?”

#597: “Have you seen her fight? Civil disobedience – not her thing.”

Me: “Thanks, guys. You’ve been oh, so comforting!”

#597: “However we can help!” he grinned. After that we just finished our lunch. Soon, it was time for the obstacle course, and boy was I ready for it!

   Now, let me tell you something about the run-through. We had moving walls. We had electric wires. We had a climbing rope and about 5 other devices I honestly just can’t think of right now. When it’s not my turn I’d just sit back and watched those babies fall! I mean, the guys go through all of this expense; you’d think less of them would be defeated by whatever super crosses their path!

   The instructor blew a whistle signaled us to form a line. He walked toward the center of us, raised his hand, and provoked a thunderous “HAIL HYDRA!” from all of us. He called #352 and #627 to the course, but both of them fallen victim to the mud pit. To my terror, the instructor eyed me, moving his index finger to signal that I was next. I guess I wasn’t all that afraid, but it was like being picked on in gym class. If it weren’t for me being forced out of high school because of family stuff I swear I would never have joined HYDRA. To everyone’s surprise, one of those high-power, second-in-command guys in our uniform entered the training area. He saluted to the instructor, followed by both of them screaming “HAIL HYDRA!” The high-power guy cleared his throat to deliver a message.

Messenger: “Instruction Officer #82, we have important news from the leaders of HYDRA. A hit has been planned on the Stark Labs to disable research and mechanical capabilities. The orchestrators insist you send your best agents available to the area.”

Instructor: “That’d be necessary to get past all of the Stark technology, I suppose.”

Messenger: “We need your decision within 2400 hours.”

Instructor: “Very good.”

   And then in unison as they parted – you guessed it – “HAIL HYDRA!” All the soldiers were dismissed and we all went back to our holding cells. In each was a mattress – given a sheet, a blanket, and a pillow – with a bed stand and lamp close beside. The closest we could get to decorating was sneaking in posters. I laid on my mattress and kept thinking about the Stark mission. I wanted more than anything to be part of it. How can they leave out their most skilled agent? I waited in my cell – which I was very happy to declare that I didn’t have to share – for a period that seemed like hours. I would watch the shadows move slightly. Sometimes I would make out shapes in them. One time I could’ve sworn I saw a dinosaur. I finally looked across to a digital clock which glared red on the wall. It said 10:00; it was time to go asleep and wake up at 4:30 in the morning. The bedtime may sound generous, but the wake-up is just cruel. I let myself drift away until I heard clanking at my chamber door.

   Curiosity struck me, but I really was too tired to move. Steady rapping occurred three times before I even considered getting up. Still in my uniform, I attempted to go asleep once more. I heard mumbled whispers just beyond the metal walls. As I was straining to hear, the door to my compound was blown away by explosives. (Not a stable bunch, are they?) I threw up my arm to dodge debris and waited for the smoke to clear. Three men in HYDRA garb entered my room, one of them decorated.

Commander: “Elena Wilkes, a.k.a. #837. Your skill and dedication is required for a task at hand. Do you accept this position?”

Me: “You bet I do!”

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Origins
Issue 2

You're back? Color me surprised! HAIL HYDRA! … … sorry, before we leave the guys always make sure we have that little defect. The decorated, commander agent guy led me and a few others down a hallway to this room. There were about five or six agents, actually. So, after all the special training, we were finally briefed on exactly what it was we were supposed to do. The room itself was cool, too! It was kind of dark, but a long, black table with a lot of black chairs close by it was in the center of the room. Toward the head of the table, a big, green screen was prepared. It was definitely digital and alone must have cost the agency a few hundred thousand dollars. I began to sit down in what I noticed was one of those comfy swivel chairs when I saw that the rest of the agents were standing in a line at attention. Apparently, they hadn't trained me as well as they'd hoped. Embarrassed, I walked up and stood at attention like a good little agent next to the last guy in line. Barely a second later, a man in a business suit stood by the giant screen. No one else comes, but I'm gonna let go of the fact that there was plenty of room for us to sit.

Commander: "HAIL HYDRA!"

All Agents: "HAIL HYDRA!"

Man in Suit: "Hello, all. I am Professor Buntley. I run many progressing projects at in the latest WBNT research building. My company hopes to get our feet off the ground, but as you can imagine, Stark Industries is a highly esteemed competition."

Back then, what I wanted to say was Well, DUH! He's only the IRON MAN! I know that breaking into a building owned by a superhero wasn't my brightest move, but it was still better than sitting bored in my cell, right? I was kinda bored there though. He just kept going on and on …

Prof. Buntley: "- and I hope this elite team can stand a chance against Stark technology. Of course, I will pay your organization in full when the task has been completed. Good day."

Immediately after our employer left the room, the commander went to the screen and pulled a tiny remote out of his pocket. He aimed it at the screen and brought up a diagram of the building. He probably gave instructions on what to do when we got there, but to be honest, I wasn't paying attention. I'm sorry people, I'm sure you admire my usual attention to detail that I normally put into these diary entries, but I do what I can. Man, I can't wait to publish this!

Anywho, all the while I was wondering why we were doing this. I sure as heck didn't wanna mess with any superhero! I mean, we're famous, right? We can do any gig we want? Oh well, I was just planning on following the others around when it's time to go. Our mind is supposed to be in unison anyhow. I waited until the commander was finished giving instructions because I knew what came after.

Commander: "Any questions?"

Me: "Yes, sir."

Commander: "#837, you may speak."

Me: "Um, yeah. This whole mission … ok, I actually did research on us and we're the remnant of a Nazi organization. Why are we getting paid to take down a superhero? And, don't we have an agenda of our own to get back to or something?"

He really glared at me in that "Why won't you burst into flames?" kind of way.

Commander: "We are not 'taking down a superhero'. We are committing corporate sabotage. Very well within HYDRA's calling, and –"

All Agents: "HAIL HYDRA!"

I couldn't help but laugh. Yes, it does get that annoying! After giving the boys the same "death glare" he gave me, the commander continued.

Commander: "Our group," he said, glancing at the boys … just to be safe. "as a result of many 'super' fights, needs all the funding it can get. Out private missions can wait until we're … um … economically stable.

It really didn't make much sense to me, but I didn't question it. Before we were dismissed to the helicopter, I gave the commander a glare right back at him! Huh … how did that work anyhow? What with the goggles of the HYDRA garb and all …

HAIL HYDRA!

Darn! I'm still doing that! So … we all got into the helicopter and the guys were really silent the whole time. Obedience training strikes again! Every now and again I would fill the silence by humming. I think I really annoyed my teammates. When we arrived to the target, I felt shoulders brush past me. The helicopter was hovering just above the building. We dropped down and I guess my nerves got the best of me because I definitely did not stick the landing. The leader of our group was equipped with a tiny laser that cut open the entrance for an air vent for us to go through. I know it's only supposed to work in the movies, but what can I tell you? It worked! The metal really crushed against my sides. I'm not sure if the boys had the same trouble, but we moved slowly through the vents. In my uniform, I could barely breathe! Everything I took in was like heated dust … come to think of it … it probably was. That and whatever vermin crawling through there left behind. Gross.

Before I could get myself down from the vents – as I've always been a little afraid of heights – I could see that the rest of the team already began sabotage. A couple were hacking into a computer with a specialized microchip that HYDRA had concocted. The others were wrecking random technology. For a few seconds, I felt I was no longer needed there. Nothing for me to do. Then, it occurred to me: this was too easy. This was IRON MAN's building! Even with him away on business with SHIELD, the Avengers, or Stark Industries, he should have some security here, right? Guards at the least!

As if responding to my thoughts telepathically, red, flashing lights illuminated the laboratory. The entrances were slowly closing metallic doors – most likely adamantium, considering the prestige Tony Stark has gained over the years. I turned to my team to see that one was banging against control panels, letting all kinds of loose wires and electricity run freely throughout the room. The others slid their way under the doors and out. I couldn't move. I was too afraid. I saw my chances of escape finally close!

Me: "What about me? I'm stuck here!"

It was no use. My teammates left me. I banged against the metal as pours opened in the walls. They weren't part of the security system, I'm sure. It must have been because of the one agent sabotaging to computers. To my horror, acid spilled out of every crevice. I screamed but there was no one to hear me. Sparks flew from the damaged control panel and mixed with the acid. I had no idea what would happen if it reached me. I ran frantically through what floor untouched by acid remained, desperate for a way out. I began to climb a metallic fixture or a pipe of some sort. To be honest, I didn't have time to take notice. Whatever it was, it couldn't support me. I fell backward and felt a simultaneous burn and shock against my skin – rushing through my body – before my head was hit and I got knocked unconscious against the dissolving floor.

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Power
Issue 3

So, I figure I'm dead, right? No way can I survive electrocution and a chemical bath! To my surprise, I actually wake up some time later. The area was similar to the place I got knocked out in, only it wasn't a lab. It was more like an infirmary – which makes more sense when you think about it. Oh, and there was a strange symbol on everything too. It was an eagle in a pentagon … octagon … some kind of –gon. My first instinct was to find a mirror, cuz let's be honest – how many times does a person get bathed in chemicals and not make his/her skin fugly?

In any case, I get up to find I'm in one of those revealing medical gowns. At least I always wear women's boxers … but I made my way to the metal door and kept pounding on it! I had to get out, I mean, where was I? Around the third or fourth time I hit the metal … my-my arm just … stretched. I'm not kidding; my left arm was just drooping to the floor! At this point, I was really panicking. I flail my arms and it regains its shape. I strike the door once more and … I actually put a dent in it! That and my hands stretched to the form of a single, giant hammer. Right then I decided to hold my breath and just calm down. In response, my arms slithered back into their correct position. My mouth was wide open. I took a few steps back and tripped over my feet. When I was down, the door opened on its own, stalling where I placed the dent. Three men walked in wearing blue jumpsuits that had the same eagle sign on it – one was wearing an eye patch. He looked back at the half-closed door and muttered something about having to go with adamantium next time. The man looked to me and began to speak.

Nick Fury: "My name is Nick Fury. Do you know what happened to you?"

Me: "Yeah, some backstabbers left me out for a major chemical bath."

Nick Fury: "Yes. Your teammates … "

It was then I realized what was going on. I was in SHIELD and the other two circled around me. I wasn't being rescued. True, I lived, but they knew I was from HYDRA! HAIL HYDRA! (sorry … ) The agents grabbed me by my underarms and tried to lift me, probably to some containment cell or some jail or interrogation room. I was all Please don't let them allow water boarding. Please DO NOT let them do water boarding! I used my fully-extended arms to tie up the agents and about three more flooded the doors, shooting like they were auditioning for a part with John Wayne. I felt the bullets push against me, but it was more like blow darts or something – really, it just didn't hurt too badly. I put two and two together about my newfound abilities and did a little wave to shoot the bullets right back at them!

Me: "Whoa, whoa, time out boys! I officially quit, ok? I am no longer a part of HYDRA! HAIL HYDRA! … sorry …"

He just kinda stared at me. It was then, after I made my bed of sucking upness, which I decided to lay in it.

Me: "I mean, yeah, I joined a terrorist group but I am completely willing to turn a new leaf! I want to benefit society!" I said with a hero bravado.

Needless to say, they didn't believe me. I continued my plea that I was all heroic now. Good 'ol Nick gave me the benefit of the doubt and made sure I meant what I said. The process took days, so let me sum it up for you. Day One – I had to be in a room for hours while they interrogated me. Day Two – I was put through behavioral training, their sad attempt to keep me from going rogue. Day Three – you'll never believe this … I had to sign a pledge! A freakin' pledge! Oh, and did I mention that through all three of these little tasks I was tortured little by little to ensure my sincerity? Yeah! SHIELD and HYDRA ain't that different after all! HAIL HYDRA!

…

… I can't believe that after all the puddin' pop SHIELD put me through I'm still doing that …

Basically, after I "graduated" – in record time might I add – I just switched agencies. Yup, Elena Wilkes – Agent of SHIELD. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? It didn't last long though. (I'll get to it later.) I slept at a cell a lot like the one I had at the agency that shall not be named due to the defect of mine. The next morning, I was called out to the main lobby of the helicarrier. Fury was there to greet me as about ten other agents worked the controls. One agent came up behind me and attached a metal anklet to me.

Nick Fury: "This will act as a tracker in case you get out of hand."

Me: "Hey, what's one evil henchman? I'll be fine."

Nick Fury: "Good. Then you won't mind your first mission."

Me: "Sure, anything. Just name it!"

Nick Fury: "Infiltrating a HYDRA base."

[Kathy]

I have not read the stories that your basing your writing and characters on. So, my comments need to be viewed from that standpoint.

The story has a nice rhythm to it. I like that you have chosen to use the first person point of view. Although this can be difficult to do, you seem to handle it well.

There are a couple of areas that took me out of the story but that might be because I am not familiar with the original.

The first thing that bothers me are spelling, or grammatical, errors. I know, I know when you get published your editor will correct them. But, I notice them and think care should be taken to correct them.

I like the way Elena talks - the attitude she gives off. But, until as a reader I become familiar with recurring characters, unfamiliar vernacular takes me out of the flow of the story.

What do I mean? There are some words/phrases used that just made me scratch my head: fugly, sucking upness or puddin' pop for example.

I really like the way you bring the characters to life. It is important that they seem real.

One thing that takes away from that are the agents being called numbers - it is difficult to keep track of who is who and gives no life to those characters.

As a whole though, you have great potential as a writer. There is a "something" that I feel when I read your work. If you love what you do and keep at it, you have the ability to go far.

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Thank you!

I know the numbers are confusing, but the Hydra base is only for a few issues. Should stop after the next one. As for the vernacular, grammar and all, normally I make sure all of this is taken care of, but since this was supposed to be diary entries I felt them nessicary.    A little dictionary:

fugly: combination word - F***ing ugly.
sucking upness: trying to convince someone you are nice so they will do something for you (or not harm you)
puddin' pop: something not likable.

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ok, with this one here? Yes, i did something....drastic....with Elena and Wolverine. I am about to say this right now. NO HUGH JACKMAN JOKES!!

Achim, why did you have to start that?  My dad still teases me!! But, next issue......

Elena's Wolverine Adventure!!!
Issue 4

 

I admit at first being sent by SHIELD to infiltrate a HYDRA base – my old home – was troubling, but apparently I'm too new to the system to work alone! So who does old Nicky-boy send to escort me? Logan! Wolverine! That ever-lovin' hairy, Canadian dreamboat! Oh, I just wanna … um … wait; I'm actually publishing these entries. So … it actually took a while to get him here. You see, he was actually at the X-Mansion. Shocking, right? Then, it took a little while to convince him to go to another HYDRA base. It took a pack of beers and a 6-month guarantee that Fury wouldn't bother him. But, what kind of life is it if you can say that, anyways? Another HYDRA base … or am I not one to talk?

I bet you're wondering right now about my outfit. Free-forming it doesn't include my clothes, right? Well, SHIELD tested me for a reason and gave me a tight black suit that shifts with me. I was like, "Well, later, when I adopt a civilian life, what if I can't change my clothes in time or need to use my powers for something else?" So after a little while I convinced them to do the same to any ordinary clothes I'm gonna buy. I nagged them, really. You haven't lived until you've seen the vein over Nick Fury's temples throb like that. And, like I said, eventually he caved … I rock …

We finally go into a SHIELD jet and Wolvie sits next to me. I nudged his feet every now and again, but he just gave a cute growl and turned away. Being in this line of work must get old after a while, right? We reach a HYDRA base in … good lord … Siberia! I bet you're thinkin', Oh, well at least it's not her teammates she's invading. Well Mr. or Ms. Smarty McSmartPants, I don't care how obvious this may be to you, but Siberia is COLD! Never mind what Al Gore had to say, the ice bergs are in no danger of breaking apart! You need to realize all I was wearing was the tights! Wolvie really ruined the ride for me by wearing civilian clothes. I didn't even get to catch him in that costume! But we finally get to our target zone.

Wolverine: "Listen up, bub. This ain't the fate of the world or nothing, but I don't wanna hear any whinin' or shenanigans. No helpin' out yur old pals, no screamin' that yur feet hurt after an hour, and - - - NO TRICKS!"

Heh heh, he kinda caught me slithering my arm around him.

Me: "Don't worry! My base was very, very far from here."

Then, of course, he shot off those beautiful, shiny claws that I don't even mind if her stabs me with them. We drop onto the roof of the building and he claws his way through the ceiling. I slither my way through – a move I feel I am perfecting. Gotta practice, right? We enter a gray corridor and I could see two guards in the distance; I'd say it was about twenty feet away. They were really chatting it up. I was making my way for a sneaky approach, but apparently that wasn't my honey buns' style. Logan slashed through the two, but before one guy was disemboweled he pushed a red button that would sound an alarm made a red light flash. Of course that means HYDRA agents come out of the woodworks. I forgive him, though. I heard him growl and mutter "Not my best work …" Ain't that cute?

While he tore through the Siberian agents like tissue, I got to show off my skills! Perhaps I should explain. While still in SHIELD custardy, the doctors looked me over. Skipping the science mumbo-jumbo about the electrically destabilized chemicals, now my body stretches like rubber while my skin remains as hard as steel. So, while I whiplashed one guard into another with one arm I pounded more with the other! I wrapped my legs around some support beams so I could get a little leverage when I wanted to attack from above. I gotta tell ya, I was in the zone! But who should I run into in my superhero romp?

Me: "#1874?"

#1874: "#837?"

I pin my former partner against the wall. He used to work at my base until he got transferred to Siberia. Yeah, the superiors were kinda mad at him after Weapon X escaped, then later X-23 … then Bob decided to tag along with some mercenary who also got away …

Me: "How many times do I have to tell you guys … call me Elena?"

#1874: "Whoa, this is new." He said observing my stretchy-strong arms. "How's a new life treating ya?"

Me: "Hm, can't complain. How are things here in Siberia?"

#1874: "Just like any other HYDRA base but colder. HAIL HYDRA!"

I fought off the urge to scream it, but the rest of the hall heard.

All Agents: "HAIL HYDRA!"

At least I've got a handle on it …

Me: "Yeah, trapped inside must not be a hit, especially knowing if you leave you'd need to be an Eskimo."

I guess I stood there chatting for too long because my tough little Canadian sweetheart turned away from his victims with a look on his face that made me think that maybe he was kinda sorta mad at me.

Wolverine: "What The Hell Are You Doing? Are you seriously enjoying Small Talk with the Enemy?"

I turned back to my old friend.

Me: "Sorry, I'm kinda on this hero trip right now and … yeah, I need to beat you up."

#1874: "Ah, well it was nice catching up with ya!"

Me: "Yeah, you too."

Then I clocked him one with my steel-like fist. I felt bad because, like I said, despite what people say HYDRA's dental plan isn't all that great. Wolvie and I slash through the last of the guards in the hall, so I slither back down.

Regrettably, I must have still been on his bad side because we made our way to this base's main entrance – which we had to make our way to from the back. Thank. You. SHIELD. – I kept getting a nasty look from him. I was about to ask him if there was anything I did wrong, but then a grand entrance opened up in front of us. I remember how the detail in the paneling and the door looked elegant like any antique. The room was like any other villain's lair complete with a sleek black look of a briefing room. Massive windows were laid panel by panel to create a very open atmosphere. The base itself hadn't been very active, but I and my honey buns were there to shut it down for good. When we snuck by the couple that stood guard – smothering/clawing their faces actually – who is on screen? None other than Baron Strucker. The big head of HYDRA himself.

Strucker: "NO! WHAT IS THIS INTRUSION?"

Yeah, he noticed us. Wolvie had no problem with the fact that my former master was on screen and started destroying everything. Seriously, metal was flying! I have to admit, I was a little distracted. This was my unseen master! The man who I was sworn to obey without question! And I must say … not exactly how I pictured him. Baron was bald on the top with scars that traced down. It looked like part of his body was mechanical too, but whether it was what he needed or what he was wearing I just couldn't tell. And Strucker was really flying off the handle too! I saw him stare me down while I was still in awe … he turned such a shade of purple from Wolvie's interference I thought he was going to explode before communication was cut off.

Then it dawned on me. Fight scene! Now! All parts of my body felt like licorice as I flung my opponents around. I'm guess it hurt too what with the steel quality and all. Logan looked like he knew what he was doing so I followed him down a corridor. By this time, everything was in ruins but my sweetheart had an entire self-destruct in mind. There was an entire that had a lot of tubes and whatyawhosits floating around inside. I'm guessed that was where Weapon X happened. There was debris pounding on top of Wolverine as he knocked more and more structures off of their support and the ceiling crumbled in a massive rockslide that by his groans I could tell already started to hurt him.

I stretched my body from one end of the chaos to the other, catching all of the falling scraps of metal and structural stones on my spine. It felt kinda like being kicked by that one annoying kid on the airplane seated behind you. Soon enough I was able to dig Logan out and as we ran I was really hoping he had some of respect for me after that. After all, I know I didn't exactly save his life but...well...once out we were by a final explosion that wiped out the entire base for what I'm guessing is, like, the sixteenth time. My limbs were a few feet apart from each other (yes, still attached) and I had to slither together again, my head pounding and me feeling my weakest. I stood on my own, but I could feel Wolvie behind me, maybe ready for if I fell?

Wolverine: "Ugh … thanks for the assist, bub. I … I guess you ain't all bad." He crossed his arms, looking me in the eyes this time. "Word of advice - supers today need a name. I never understood it ... just don't go wearin' no pajamas."

Then he just walked away. I couldn't help but wonder where he would go. SHIELD didn't arrive yet and he obviously wasn't planning on hitching a ride with me. One thing's for sure, the dude knew how to make a dramatic exit.

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Moving Day
Issue 5

 

After SHIELD picked me up, I got to pick out my house, or should I say mangy apartment. I decided to live in Queens because almost every superhero in the world is in New York. Fury kept to his word and modified some civilian clothes for me, but he got the wrong size so I made him do it over again in a smaller selection. Until everything got ready I had a set of clothes to wear while I went shopping for a home. After a long and boring search for the perfect rats' nest of which I shall spare you the details, I began to settle. I started thinking to myself that the place could use an extra coat of paint. Some base. Flowers and open curtains.

Maybe a flamethrower. Believe it or not, this was one of the better options.

I sat on a basic bed that I felt may look better with a comforter – though dust flowed out on impact. A knock was at the door and being exhausted I just stretched out my arm and twisted the knob, letting the door slowly pull open as my arm slithered back into place. To my surprise, no one was there but a suitcase laying there with a SHIELD emblem on the side. I slid to it, flattening my finger to carefully pry open the hatch. Even with it being SHIELD, with my terrorist background I was half-certain it was a bomb. But, as expected, it was my modified clothes. I slithered out of the worn black shirt and sweats I was wearing and into a pair blue jeans and a nice, frilly red blouse.

Of course, with my new powers, new looks, and new home I felt like celebrating. I decided to head out to the theater; there was some movie playing about a garden gnome in love – I can't remember the name anymore. I picked up my wallet ready to head out but paused for a second and decided to use an old backpack that I bought from a local flee market for some reason. What with me being low on money after quitting HYDRA that's where I have to get my food. Great doughnuts. Luckily, I had about 12 dollars left over – enough for at least a ticket. I discretely packed up my black leather suit and slung the bag over my shoulders. I wasn't sure what I would use it for but something was telling me to bring it just in case. Unfortunately, I also lived on the second floor of the apartment building, so when I tried to go downstairs it was only common sense that there were construction guys coming up with what looked like an old, bulky heater for one of the tenants down the hall from me. Naturally, I slithered to the wall to avoid collision – and HA! My clothes stretched along with me and clung to the wall. And I bet a lot of you were questioning wasting my time on that!

I crept down to the lobby because I didn't think the guys noticed me. As I came out of the building, I knew the theater was only a block or so from the next right. I walked down the street in New York for the first time it seemed. I mean, I walked all around this place looking for a place to live but just strolling through all the horrible city odors just flowed to me. I don't think I need to tell you the place smelled of gasoline and things I don't think my publisher would want me to discuss. Down an alley, I heard a crash like the garbage falling over but dismissed it; I thought it was probably a stupid cat or something.

I was just outside of the theater getting ready to buy my ticket when what should happen? A mugger came out of the direction I heard the crash from and struggled to take a woman's purse. Immediately I ducked behind the opposite wall and slithered my way behind a bush to change. I could finally put my superhero skills to action! I was hoping the bad guys could wait until I customized a costume for myself, but then again leather flatters me.

I was in costume though I had no mask. The local police was on the scene but I was so close to the action my adrenaline took over. I wrapped my arms around the guy and he screamed! A person would guess he never saw a gal like me before, though that's questionable in New York. I would've held him for the police easy-peezy but one thing stood in the way: the jerk had friends – who are actually equally jerkish. I know I heard a couple whistle at me. I could hear the police radio from where I was telling the boys in blue to pull back due to superhuman activity. Five of the criminals circled around me, easy enough to take care of. I swung my leg around, knocking three of them off their feet. I punched the other two of them in the face and knocked them out with the help of my steel-like quality. The three I threw off came back with pipes. Pipes! I slithered behind them and banged their heads together. They were knocked out instantly.

Amazingly, a reporter made his way to the scene! I looked around and it turned out that I wasn't that far away from some newspaper called the "Daily Bugle", or at least that's how I knew it; I think it goes by the DB now. Urich! Yeah, the dude's name was Ben Urich.

Urich: "Wow, another new hero. What was your plan here? Who are ya?"

Me: "Um, well, I guess I was just freeforming it."

Urich: "Freeform? Nice ta meet ya." he said shaking my hand. And then a photographer took my picture. He looked sore at me for some reason. Probably jealous; I have great power.

Freeform, huh? I could get used to that.

[Kathy]

Do you draw Brit? I would love to see some artwork along with the story.

[addicted2dvd]

Yes... Britt is becoming quite the little artist. She hasn't been at it long... but I must say what she has done looks good. Of course that could be the blind eyes of a parent's love. I believe she scanned some in... so hopefully she will share some here when she sees this.

[addicted2comics(:P)]

I draw some art, but not for this story. What with it being a comedic fanfic I firgured most people could imagine. Just imagine a young woman, maybe long red hair and blue eyes in black leather. Most of the pics I draw are just practice or go along with a different story I write. maybe I'll make something for this later, but I'm really a waaay better writer than I am an artist.

[addicted2comics(:P)]

Secret Identity Shopping
Issue 6

A/N: Special shout out to UltimateHybrid for letting me borrow the telephone bit from her Deadpool's Apprentice series!

After getting my powers and a new rep as Freeform, for a little bit it seemed fun. Hey, look! I'm a superhero! But … it was all over the news and … they saw my face. Perfect! I could barely make it into my apartment with all of the buzz about me, and I never got to see my gnome movie. Wait … aren't there a bunch of superheroes in New York? Guess it was a slow news day. I must be popular though; if I get a Facebook I bet I'll have a million friends!

Still, that was no way to live. I needed to get a secret identity and FAST! So, why not look to comics and go Clark Kent-style? If I wear a wig in private, maybe brunette, everyone would be looking for a redhead instead! Well, I guess that's more "Hannah Montana" than anything, but …

So I slipped on some sunglasses and a trench coat I found at the shelter. Yeah, I hid there from the fans, reporters, and such. And nothing says inconspicuous like a flashy, 1900s trench coat. I checked my new laptop – courtesy of the annoyance technique I have over SHIELD – and saw Wal-Mart and such common places don't sell wigs. And there was no way I was going to wait DAYS for it to come through the mail. That left me with one option – the costume store around the corner. The distance isn't a problem, but I really hate their prices! There was no use fighting it, though. There were no crowds, strangely enough. I suppose I was such a new tenant no one knew I lived there.

I ran over the plan in my head. Ok, just walk down the street, buy a wig, and leave. What could possibly go wrong? I couldn't help but notice the bystanders giving me a stink-eye as I walked through Times Square. Weird. I wasn't even using my powers, so I'm thinking ok, why do I stand out so much? I mean, if they knew who I was then I'd be swarmed. I adjusted my sunglasses and trench coat and moved forward.

The store, Fairy and Zombies, made sure to have heavy metal blast in my ears as I entered. A brief look over of the store and I noticed no wigs in sight. I approached a salesgirl – Chrissy, by her name tag – and tried to ask, simply, if the wigs were sold.

Me: "Um, excuse me."

Chrissy: "Hello, what may I help you with?"

Me: "Well, I'm looking for a –" A phone rang.

Chrissy: "Hello? Oh, hey doll … no, I'm not doing anything. Did Derek ever … oh, he did! Haha, he didn't … Well, how'll Kristen react?"

Me: "Excuse me."

Chrissy: "You'll have to hold on a sec, babe." And she addresses me. "What do you waaaaaaant?"

Me: "A black wig."

Chrissy: "All of our wigs and other hair products were stolen."

Me: "Whaaat? Stolen? Stolen how?"

Chrissy: "Stolen as in gone. Outta here. In the other hands. Vanished. In the red. Do I have to draw you a picture?"

Me: "That's not necessary. I guess I'll have to –"

Chrissy: "Uh-huh, yeah, great." And she switched over. "Well, he said that he'd be for her, a one woman guy, so now she'll be like 'Umm, what are you doing?' and he'll be like 'Nothing.' And she'll be like – "

Me: "Ok! I'm leaving! Bye!"

That was … mildly disturbing. So, I was leaving without anything I could really count on for keeping my identity a secret. I was so sure my plan was going to work. I mean, so my face was on the news. It's not like people know my name. Defeated, I walked down the street to the local Starbucks. I saw that photographer there, too. He was really downing it – a regular caffeine fiend. I ordered a latte, and the name is nice and short if you notice, you half-foam, half-cream mocha choco-latte people. I wondered how my situation could possibly get any worse. The television was playing and there was that very fake news reporter in the spotlight; you know, the one with the giant smile and plastic hairdo.

Reporter: "- and inside reports reveal that the newest New York superhero, Freeform, is none other than ex-HYDRA terrorist, Elena Wilkes. Her powers, if speculations are correct, are a result of either contact with radioactive rubber or a horrible accident with a taffy machine."

And I was just speechless. My … my identity. Everyone there knew who I am! I guess it isn't such a big deal seeing as how I have no enemies, but it's the principal of the thing! And what the flipper? Radioactive? Taffy machine? Some of these "speculators" should write comic books. Oh, and the people were staring at me. What with the good image of me on screen for comparison, I guess my disguise wasn't that good.

Me: "Um …"

I slithered out of there, and I know people were talking about me and my terrorist background. So for about five years I was a nameless henchman for a remnant Nazi organization. Some people will never let that go! But, I tried to make my way back home. Luckily, there was no one waiting for me. I went down stairs and took off the trench coat and glasses in my room. Then, my phone rang. I was like, Perfect. They already have my number.

I answered the phone.

Wasp: "Um, hi. This is Wasp. I want to talk to you about training."

Normally, joining the Avengers would make me pass out from the excitement, but I just wanted to mope. Plus, I belong to SHIELD.

Me: "No, I'm sorry. This is Kitty Pryde."

I hung up. I really hoped I got away with that, but then it rang again.

Kitty: "Hi, I'm Kitty Pryde. Look, I wanted to talk to you about reforming. I mean, I think you're worrying a bunch of people, so -"

I couldn't help myself.

Me: "No, I'm sorry. This is Wasp."

I hung up. I tried to walk off to the TV when what should happen again? You guessed it; the phone rang. I picked it up.

Wasp: "Ok, I know you're Freeform, so don't try to pass yourself off as Kitty; she just called here about accidentally switching phone numbers."

At that point, I was cracking up.

Me: "Sorry about that. I just really don't want to talk to anyone right now."

Wasp: "Oh, well …"

Me: "Why are you and Kitty interested in me anyhow?"

Wasp: "Well, people know where you came from now. You were a hero at first, but now people are second-guessing the idea of a HYDRA agent being on such a long leash, y'know?"

Me: "Ugh, spend five years as a nameless henchman for a remnant Nazi organization and they never let it go!"

From there, Wasp warned me about getting government permission to help with the public eye, but I then talked about how SHIELD trained me. After that she let me off the hook. It got me wondering, though … if SHIELD was so high-and-mighty, why did they just let the rumor spread that I was running amuck? And who spilled about me working for HYDRA? Ugh, a superhero's life is never easy … and I can't even hide behind a mask …

[addicted2comics(:P)]

Publicity Stunt
Issue 7

A/N: I try to keep this close to continuity, but have a hard time seeing as I can't afford subscriptions. I'm pretty sure no one keeps close tabs on this stuff here, but internet points if you can find my reference to Amazing Spider-Man #611!!!

So, it was just like that. The stupid news guy got everybody nervous, like when you hire an ex-con to do some plumbing and you make sure to hide the silverware. I was no longer a hero to these people; I was a villain on parole. Best way to get back in good graces? Good deeds. If people would trust me with so much as a cat stuck in a tree …

I headed for a local newspaper called Front Line. Maybe a reporter there would've been interested in letting my side be heard. I walked through the front door and thought I saw the editor. He was a tall, black man with graying hair; he flipped through papers which I guessed were important for some story. A couple guys were behind him pitching something – a good opportunity to make an impression. I slithered my way up the banister of the building. I secured my limbs around the post holding the ceiling up to make sure I stayed up too. And … he didn't notice. So, I whistled his way. He looked up at me and tumbled back as her screamed. An excellent start.

Me: "Joe Robertson?"

Robertson: "Freeform?"

I made my way down so as not to frighten him again.

Me: "Look, I know what people think but I'm a good girl, really!"

Robertson: "…I get it." Then he cracked a smile. "You aren't the first superhero a certain media was wrong about."

There, I was kind of stunned. There was another superhero who went through what I had to go through? Then, I reminded myself that the world, heck, the city is full of superheroes. For all I know, Robertson was talking about himself!

Me: "So … you'll print my views?"

Robertson: "Look, I'd love to get the word out, but my reporters are all out on important cases and - - wait, PETER!"

The photographer from the street and Starbucks makes his way over. I can tell he was surprised to see me. He rushed over, almost dropping the camera and greeted the editor.

Parker: "Yeah?"

Robertson: "Time to upgrade from photojournalist journalist. Public interest piece. Freeform wants to share her side of the story."

Parker: "Um, that's really not my thing."

Robertson: "I know, Peter. You usually stick to a particular man in spandex, but this is a special case."

I don't have to tell you what I was thinking with that knowledge.

Me: "Please, Peter! I'm not bad and people need to feel safe around me. Let me be a hero!"

I think I pretty much melted his heart with that. He looked at me like a cute kid that is turning herself into a tape-mummy while trying to wrap Christmas presents.

Peter: "Sure. Mind if we stop at a place to eat? All I had this morning – "

He was cut off by the sound of a wall caving in. I think it gave him a headache too. It was Scorpia; in case you aren't caught up on your New York villains, Scorpia is a female version of the old bad guy "Scorpion". That happens a lot with the costumes and the gender-bender switch nowadays. The debris was going everywhere, but I was able to stretch my body to catch most of it before it hit the innocent workers.

Scorpia: "Spider-Man! Somebody get me Spider-Man, right now!"

At first, I didn't know why she came here looking for the web-head, but as I'm writing this I'm looking at old articles from the Daily Bugle. There were so many Spidey pictures it's no wonder she thought he was there, what with there being the same photographer and all. When I got back, Joe must've gone to hide under a desk or something because he was gone. I made my way to Scorpia, wrapping my body around her – tail included.

Me: "Spidey's not here right now, please leave a message and I'll be sure to beat you down for him."

Scorpia: "Raaaaaaaaaawr!" I have to admit, she wasn't the talkative type. She thrashed as I restricted her, but she didn't know that my skin is as hard as steel! And using her tail, it took her … about five seconds longer than expected to escape me.

I looked back at the innocent Front Line workers. Most ducked under something to protect themselves; I didn't see Peter. He must've run off while I attacked Scorpia. When I turned back to her, however, webbing already stopped her in her tracks. Spider-Man himself was crouched down onto the new opening in the wall. He pulled tightly on the sticky, white restraints, letting out a small scream as Scorpia broke free and flung him against the opposite wall.

Spidey (holding his head): "Whatever happened to surrendering to the hero?"

While the wall-crawler recovered, I slipped my way into hand-to-hand with Scorpia. She was thrashing wildly and nearly got me with that blasted tail of hers, but I used my flexibility to slither in and out of her blows. Spider-Man kicked her from behind and they both fell out of the wall's wreckage. I rushed to the outside, hoping they'd made it; that would've been a seven-story drop at the least. Sure enough, when I got down there Spider-Man was holding Scorpia at bay. I jumped from the news floor and stretched my limbs to hold onto each flagpole and streetlight I could find until I reached safety. Spider-Man was making some sort of quip as he fought Scorpia, but I just kind of tuned him out, to be honest – that dude is distracting! I couldn't concentrate! I don't know how Scorpia could stand have to listen to that while fighting, I mean … oh, I get it now.

With Scorpia having her eyes on Spidey, I beamed her from behind – standing from about ten feet behind. She screamed and the Spider hopped onto a building while dodging her tail. Once she pulled her thoughts together, she attacked me too. And that girl looked mean! I froze when she turned to me but Spider-Man was able to web her up a bit. Scorpia struggled against it, but to no avail.

Spidey: "I know, I know. The first newbie defeat hurts the most. Don't worry, soon you'll be in a nice, comfy, specialized jail cell."

Then Spider-Man used the webbing to swing her against the surrounding concrete. I guess with the strength that suit provides, you can't be too careful. Scorpia moaned as Spidey sprayed her with another layer of webbing so she'd stay down; he turned to me.

Spidey: "Freeform, right? You don't seem like an ex-terrorist to me."

Can't say I get that reaction a lot.

Me: "Well, forgive me for not wearing my bright green HYDRA garb. HAIL HYDRA!"

Ugh! I really thought I stopped doing that!

Spidey: "Um … ok? Well, Freeform – "

Me: "I actually prefer Elena. Elena Wilkes. I never got to choose my costume name."

Spidey: "Ok, well, I guess you can watch over Scorpia until someone takes her away. I need to go, though. The police don't like me."

I wanted to say And they like me any better? but he was already jumping on the rooftops by the time I opened my mouth. In any case, I was absolutely ecstatic over the fact that I had a team-up with Spider-Man. The dude's a legend! The man knows how to make an entrance too, what with him being in that broken wall right after … the editor left … and everyone else was accounted for under furniture …

Oh my God! Joe Robertson is Spider-Man!

[addicted2comics(:P)]

Laundry day
Issue 8

A/N: Hmm, seriously no regular follower has reviewed this and yet I feel the need to put an author's note. anyways, i shall not write any big series for the summer to work on my novel so for both this is the last update from now until school starts up again. just to let you all know.


Next, I could tell you a story that would further the plot in some way, but instead I'll tell you how hard it is to be a superhero when you're identity is publicly known. Now, the leather suit I don't have to worry about getting stanky. I decided to take my regular clothes for a cleaning, though. I question whether or not I should call them regular clothes since they stretch like my costume, but again I digress. Elena! You just got these clothes not a couple days ago! What happened? Well, the moving people that helped me move into my apartment dropped my clothes in mud; the couple sets in my suitcase were ok though. Don't worry, I got my money back and definitely didn't tip!

As soon as I entered the Laundromat, I noticed the place was silent. It's not that I expected a party to break out by the dryer or anything, but I expected at least a couple old ladies chatting it up. Either way, I made my way to the washing machine and put the coins in. I have to say, it was a hundred times louder than what coins going into a slot should sound like. Before I could even push the button to cleanse my wardrobe, a woman – a few years older than me – cornered me with her child.

Mother: "Excuse me, miss? My child has grown to be a fan of yours. Can you be a dear and stand for a photo?"

Little Girl: "Freeform! You're the bestest secret agent ever!"

For a moment, I couldn't help but wonder: a girl, about the age of eight, knew I worked for SHIELD. How secret are they now, huh?

Me: "Yes, of course I'll stand for pictures!"

I leaned behind the squealing girl to serve my fan base. My face was starting to cramp waiting for that lady to dig the camera out of her purse. I said nothing, I didn't want to be rude, but this woman was taking her sweet time fumbling the camera. The flash went off so apparently then she had a picture of her face. Before you ask, yes, the madam was blonde.

Me: "Could you please hurry?"

I shouldn't have said that.

Mother: "What? How dare you? I'm just doing a sweet thing for my daughter walking up to you like this you're not the most popular lady around what's your problem you are one the most recognized villains around but I thought you deserved a second chance well I went rehab myself so I know how hard it is to change but apologizing is the least you can do what with taking part in terroristium."

I believe she meant "terrorism". And, my lord, she should never go on Wheel of Fortune. Forget vowels, she needs to buy herself punctuation. Two could play at that game.

Little Girl: "Mommy, hurry!"

Apparently the mother takes more lip from her kid than she does from me because she took the picture I've been posing for since the Mesozoic Era.

Me: "Well I hope you all have a nice day and yes I'm very sorry I worked for HYDRA but I only signed up for the dental plan and believe me it's not worth it they need to update their coverage but at any point I'm fully reformed and y'know what that's kinda funny Freeform Reform they both have the word 'form' in it oh would you just listen to me ramble on."

My little fan giggled at that. The mean, blonde lady angrily walked the little bundle of joy out the door. I pushed the button on the washing machine and my muddied clothes began rotating. Of course, what with me getting some form of praise, the universe had to correct itself. A high school girl, it seemed, grabbed a flyer from her pocket marched her way toward me.

May: "I'm May Johnson, class president of Midtown Manhattan Magnet High School. While reformation is admirable, society prohibits any and all questionable metahuman activity and – "

I've had about enough of this. Who do these people think they are?

Me: "You know what I'm doing right now? Laundry. Just wanna wash my clothes. I'm not bothering anybody."

May: "Antimutant Enthusiasts – "

Me: "One, I'm not a mutant. Two, if people are protesting against something, how would that be enthusiastic?"

May: "Would you let me finish?"

Me: "Hey, you're the one who just stormed in when you saw the red of my hair."

May: "The expression is white of their eyes."

Me: "The term is discrimination and it's amazing how far people have come to pit society against those who are … um, genetically gifted."

May, her fists then clenched, obviously expected me to keep my mouth shut and just go along with her prepared speech against mutantkind. Or power-kind, as once again I explain I'm technically not a mutant. Ms. Johnson walked away, too steamed to speak. I stayed after my clothes were finished to dry them. The whole time I felt like everyone at the Laundromat was staring at me.

They probably were.

I know I'm not a mutant, but I couldn't help but start to consider a certain safe-haven. A place where I can go and never feel like and outcast. Never feel like a freak. Sure, I have fans, but it's clear I just wasn't welcome in society.

So, my next stop: the X-Mansion.

[Kathy]

Noooo...you have to take us to the X-Mansion.

But seriously Britt - I quite enjoy your writing. What kind of novel are you working on?