Marvel Iron Age:
Lady Deathstrike # 7
AN/ Nothing much going on in this chapter you know. Taking a break from having our heroine put herself in a fight this chapter. (Don't worry I'll have her cutting people in half in no time) Anyways Enjoy!
“You were amazing tonight, Morgan!” A red headed woman gasped.
Ngumi paid the woman sitting half naked on her dressing room’s couch no mind. Since she arrived in San Francisco a month ago she has gone by the alias of Morgan Black and found a job singing Heavy Metal songs from two hundred years ago. “I suppose.” She answered coldly as she pulled a shirt over her head.
“The world could have ended last week, you know?” The woman said. “You were just what everyone needed tonight. And thank god for the Supreme Commander.”
Ngumi rolled her eyes. She spent two hundred years as an agent of SHIELD fighting the man she was praising. “You’re the chatter box this evening.” Ngumi grunted, wishing she would stop talking.
The red head laughed and leaped at Ngumi. “Hey!” She giggled and put her arms around Ngumi’s waist and began kissing her neck. “You’re usually not this grumpy after we—“
She grew silent as the door was thrown open. An older man stood in the door way. “Damn it, Lindsay! Morgan we’ve been over this!”
The man was the owner of the club Ngumi has been singing at. Lindsay was his wife. “She came here. Nothing I could do, she’s like a rabid creed.” Ngumi said quickly as she wriggled out of the red head’s arms.
“Stark off, Herald.” Lindsay spat. “Me and Morgan were just—“
“I don’t care!” Herald yelled.
“I’m going to leave the both of you to it then.” Ngumi said, putting on the most believable smile she could. She left the both of them to their argument. The first time it was an accident, Ngumi was having a hard time “adjusting” and Ngumi went after the “next best thing” in her manager’s wife. A decision she’s starting to regret. Lindsay won’t leave Ngumi alone and her husband Herald is furious.
Ngumi returned to her grand luxury apartment paid for by Alan Bryce, the billionaire ally of SHIELD. He set her up with her cover as Morgan Black, her job and some equipment for her nightly outings. “Computer call, Alan.” Ngumi ordered as she dragged her feet inside her apartment.
“Why hello Ms. Black!” Said the voice of Alan Bryce in a cheerful tone. “Everything going well?”
“No,” Ngumi answered as she pulled up a chair next to a wooden table in her kitchen. “but thanks for asking.”
“Any leads on Nobody?”
“None, he’s gone. I don’t even know what he stole from that warehouse.” Ngumi said.
“What did that thug you captured before you tortured and killed her say?” Alan said in an admonishing tone.
“Nothing. She seemed just as confused.” Ngumi spat. “What’s your problem?”
“It’s wasteful. Why do you have to kill?”
“Religious motivation half the time. But in my line of work it’s often self defense.” Ngumi said sarcastically. “I’ll keep looking into your boogie man and you just stay in Chicago and not tell me everything you know about this guy.”
Alan said nothing in return and the transmission cut. “I thought so.” What did Ngumi have to explain in her actions for? The people she killed were criminals and now they will never hurt anyone again. Was it her right to judge them? It might not have been, but no one was going to. Mr. Nobody referred to Alan by name. Alan knew something about him and wasn’t sharing. Ngumi decided she would take him down, but do it her way.
She slept the rest of that night. In the morning she got up, still tired. She went to her closet, her uniform was there hung up. The last several weeks she had seen more action. The uniform was scuffed, but was fine. Her new sword has become her best friend at night, cutting just like her old one did. “Note to self,” She whispered to herself as she looked at the sword on her night stand. “Kill Scalpehunter.”
Ngumi stood up stage. She sang a few sets and this was her last song of the night. The club was crowded more so than usual. But with the events of the last few days unfolding as they have it was only natural. The crowd cheered, Ngumi’s… Morgan’s name. Her band was behind her they were ready to go and began to play.
It's the closing of the curtain
In the play that was my life
Countless chapters left unopened
I was fighting for a reason
Holy blessed homicide
Seems I have committed treason
All I've sacrificed
Led to nothing
Repeated in my mind
Led to nothing
If only I was born another time
Hell is still overburdened
I must stand and wait in line
Hell is still overburdened
How I have been so determined malign?
Fate is so unkind
Now I should have known
Blind leading the blind
Reaping what I've sown
If it all amounts to nothing
Why, then, am I standing in this line?
Ngumi finished her song. The crowd roared, screaming for more. The lights dimmed and Ngumi and the band darted off stage. Everything melded into a sort of routine. She’d come to the club, sing, and then dip off into the night. While the house band went boozing at the bar upstairs, Ngumi made her way to her dressing room to unwind. “I heard of this super badass singer across the street from this murder investigation that my men screwed up.”
A woman wearing a formal Iron Army dress uniform waited in front of the other side of the door. She had long blonde hair tied into a bun and seemed to have a permanent scowl on her face. “So I took a look and I find a Shield Agent singing Disturbed covers to a bunch of morons that swoon over a murderous bitch that would gut them in a second.”
Ngumi sighed and shut the door behind her. “Herald your security screening sucks.”
“We need to talk, Ngumi.” The woman said in a commanding voice.