Matt became conscious and automatically his eyes shot open, his senses on high alert. Where was he? What happened? The last thing he remembered was sitting in the subway beside Jessica and Luke, but he could no longer feel the shaking, or hear the rattling of the car. Instead he was laying flat, on a cushion? Not a bed, there was a back to it. A sofa. A lumpy sofa. What was he doing on a lumpy sofa?
Scrambling to his feet, he instantly froze, forcing himself to stay calm as he collected as much information about where he was and what was going on around him. There was no longer the familiar stench of New York City, the traffic, the sirens, the nightlife. He was in a building. An old building, by the mustiness. A multi-story building. Evidently with poor plumbing. Matt curled his nose in disgust. There were people inside, a good number of them… an apartment? He could hear their heart beats, but there was something very strange… it was eerily quiet. No televisions, no conversations, even the footsteps were faint.
Outside… the scent of... fresh air. A park? But also the scent of stale blood lingered, making his skin crawl. Where the hell was he? How did he even get here? Was this the work of the Hand? It had to be.
“Jessica?” he cautiously called out. “Luke?” He licked his lips nervously, then an urgent thought came to him - where was the gym bag he’d been carrying? The one Foggy gave him, containing his armor, masked helmet, and weapons. He turned his head this way and that, focusing on trying to find it, but not being able.
This was Not. Good
***
Mazikeen was sitting on the arm of the sofa, twirling one of her blades around a finger. She'd happened to spot a person sleeping on a couch that had been empty a moment before. If only she had some popcorn.
Then the man woke up, and wasn't quiet. Maze put a finger to her lips and made a hard 'Shh!' Sound. Not that she was terribly worried. She wanted a fight with one of those beasts anyway. But humans were more frail.
Her stance shifted, ready to act if he kept on talking. And wondered if it would be considered self-defense if she killed a human making too much noise.
***
Matt had been so preoccupied with figuring out where he was, he didn’t notice the woman until she shushed him. Rapidly turning in her direction, he planted his feet and lifted his hands into a fighting stance. What was that scent coming from her? Rotten eggs? He tilted his head slightly, realizing she was twirling a knife.
“Who are you?” he demanded. Something was coming toward him, or rather, slowly floating in his direction. Without moving his head, he whipped out his hand and grabbed what he felt was a paper airplane. He crushed it and threw it to the floor. If he wasn’t so distracted by the woman, he might’ve wondered who the hell threw it, since he scanned his immediate surroundings again to confirm that it was just the two of them in this room.
“Don’t bother answering,” he said with a sneer. “I know who you are.”
Assuming she was associated with the Hand, he slowly circled her, looking for an opportunity to strike.
Something was going on outside. Matt could hear it. He could smell it. Rustling through the trees on the other side of the windows. The smell was nothing he ever encountered before, and it was disturbing, to say the least. But he remained focused on the woman.
***
When the man jumped into an immediate fighting stance, Maze’s attention shifted from bored to intrigued. He moved very well, with the grace of a seasoned fighter, and was balanced perfectly on his feet. She licked her lips, delighted. Now this human could be interesting.
“You shouldn’t speak,” she murmured, her voice husky with interest and desire. But she moved off the couch, shifting silently and gracefully as she spun the blades in her hands. Her body slithered into a fighting stance to match his, lusting for the fight more than she worried about the creatures roaming outside. “You’ll attract attention.”
***
Matt quirked his head to one side to stretch his neck muscles while also focusing his senses on his opponent. All the frustration and rage he’d been feeling started to swell.
You shouldn’t speak.
“Make me.”
Matt leaped forward to close the gap between them, attacking with a series of kicks and punches, while also skillfully evading those knives. His first priority, besides not getting stabbed, was to disarm. She was quick, but his bare knuckles struck her body, however the blows landed unexpectedly not on flesh as he expected. They felt like punching one of those heavy weight punching bags used in gyms to practice. Sure. Why not? The Hand could resurrect their members, they probably could toughen skin as well. It only made Matt more determined to punch harder.
All the while, there was this noise going on outside, including an inhuman shrek not far from where they were. He didn’t have time to figure that out - he’d worry about it when the time came.
****
Maze didn't want to hurt the human.He was the first one willing to give her a fight. And he was good, too. She was grinning wickedly, even letting out a huff of breath when one punch hit her ribs. She focused on dodging his blows at first, then started to block as he closed in on her. He didn't leave many openings, so she caught his wrist and let his own momentum carry him into her as she dropped onto her back. Once he was over extended, she set her foot on his hip and let physics take over.
She didn't throw him hard, or even against the wall. Mostly, she wanted to see how he would recover. But she took a moment to stow her blades. There were rules about killing humans, and even though Maze didn't care for rules, she didn't want to kill this one. He was too fun.
***
The move was unexpected, and Matt was thrown. He landed with a thud, but he’d had worse done to him. He got back on his feet as quickly as he could so he could square off against her again, but paused when he realized...she was sheathing her knives. Why? Matt stood with his fists up, wondering this question. Either she was bringing out a deadlier weapon… or she was making this more of a challenge for herself?
If it was a challenge she wanted, Matt was going to give it to her.
She was tough. Every time she blocked one of his punches, it felt like he was being slammed by a post, which made him wonder if she’d had the same sort of experiments done on her as Luke. If that was the case, he’d have to figure out a different tactic. Without fear, he went at her again, all the while looking for an opening. He found one,maneuvering behind her to slam her against the corner of a coffee table.
***
That was a dirty move, and Mazikeen approved greatly. Her head clipped the edge of the table and left a gash on her temple, which oozed scarlet blood. Maze gingerly touched the wound, saw the blood, and grinned. Then she whirled, delivering a kick to the man’s chest to drive him back, followed by two quick jabs to the ribs and then a right hook into his jaw.
He’d drawn first blood. Now it was time to repay the favor.
*** She could bleed. Matt could smell it in the air. Good. She wasn’t as invincible as he feared. The coffee table had collapsed from her falling on it, and Matt wanted to grab one or two of the loose legs to use as makeshift batons. But she was too close and too fast, and hit him with a combination that sent him staggering backward several feet. He ended up leaning against the wall to prevent himself from falling. She felt more powerful this time, making Matt believe she’d been holding back before.
Having had his breath kicked out of him, he panted to catch it, holding his side where a rib was bruised, if not broken. That’s when the corner of his tongue darted out to taste the bleeding cut that developed on the corner of his lips. He couldn’t see how the woman smiled, earlier, but he produced a very similar smile, delighted and wicked; Matt couldn’t help himself. A burst of adrenaline propelled him forward to continue the fight, ignoring every ache and pain in his body telling him to stop.
***
Mazikeen’s grin widened when his appeared, mirroring hers. Then he charged, and Maze was surprised by the burst of speed. The man’s hand actually clipped her jaw, making her bite her tongue. The sudden taste of blood mixed with the height of battle gave her a warm surge of lust. They locked arms, faces close, and Maze shifted her head, her tongue lashing out to lick the man’s lips.
She caught the taste of sweat, an echo of coffee, and the copper tang of his blood. Her throat purred, and her nose wrinkled in pleasure. “Hope you’re always this friendly,” she whispered before delivering a solid headbutt to his face.
***
Matt’s bloody mouth was curled into a sneer, but was completely taken off guard by the lick. Blind eyes opened wide from the distraction, and he heard the woman’s suggestive whisper, but it was the last thing he remembered before the blow to his head knocked him unconscious.
****
Well, that sucked. It had been a cheap shot, but the fight was making too much noise. Everyone said the dead came back, but Maze was willing to bet they all had souls, and she didn't think the rule would apply to someone without.
She lifted the human over her shoulder and carried him up the stairs to her room. Even if she knew which room was his, she wouldn't be able to get inside. She deposited the man on her bed, found her bottle of whiskey, and watched him for a few minutes.
A minute later she was bored, so she found the phone in his pocket and opened the network where others were explaining the rules to stay quiet. Then she put the phone on his chest, along with a note that said "Read this to not die"
Good deed done, she went to the Common room to drink and find something to do.
***
How long was Matt unconscious? He couldn’t tell, but he knew he’d been transferred to a new location if only because he felt the mattress. He stirred a little, listening carefully. The woman he’d been fighting was in the other room. Drinking. Heartbeat relaxed. Something was on his chest? His phone. Matt reached for it and felt the note - it meant nothing to him. He dared not make any noise, not because he’d been told to be quiet, but because he didn’t want to attract any attention to himself.
His limbs were free. That was odd, but Matt wasn’t going to complain. It meant he could escape… from wherever he was. He listened carefully all around - the room was higher up… fourth floor. He knew where a window was… there wasn’t any fire escape to climb down upon, or any other nearby buildings. If he jumped from that height, he probably would badly hurt himself. He’d do it as a last resort. Making it to the door without being detected by the woman was his first goal, and then punch his way out, if necessary.
Was there anything in the room he could use as a weapon? Not really. He pocketed his phone and slowly, silently, rose out of bed. His glasses were on the nightstand, nearby, and he grabbed those and pocketed them, too. There wasn’t any use to hiding his identity now. His skull was still throbbing where he’d been struck, his body sore, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t pushed through before. From the bed to the door… the woman hadn’t stirred. She was standing, facing away from his direction. From the bedroom door to the hallway door. No movement from her. Nobody was in the hall, so he slipped outside.
In the hall, he paused to listen again - the woman hadn’t stirred except to refill her glass. He didn’t want to think too much about how she licked him. Now to get out of here. Wherever here was. He suddenly wondered if Jessica and Luke were also captured and somewhere on the premises. That was worrisome. One step at a time. It wouldn’t be long before the woman noticed he was gone. She would likely raise an alarm. He’d concern himself with his friends later. Right now, he needed more information, find out where he was, who was keeping him prisoner.
An elevator was down the hall, but that was too risky. He’d take the stairwell, instead.
***
Maze heard him get up and leave. She drank from her bottle and didn't turn around. She'd done her part. If he still wanted to go, well, she had been told humans shouldn't be tied down if they hadn't asked for it.
Taking out her own phone, she figured the others should know someone way out in the hall, probably making noise.