Tabula Rasa P4

                                    

                                          
Color is rather funny. Essentially, the visible color that eyes register is the color reflected by a given object. So, grass is anything but green. The sky is anything but blue. 
                          
The mirror that I stood face to face with was anything but me. My hair and eyes were anything but brown; furthermore, my skin was anything but pale. Unfortunately, that didn't mean I was any less a kid than those I'd been striving to save the day prior. I was forced to face not only the youth staring back at me, but also the facts: that base had held prisoners solely of the young sort. I hadn't encountered a single adult in captivity, which would almost seem counter-intuitive had they been open to having adults. The purpose of their prisoners was for the eventual conversion to their side. They, by all means, should want young adults in their prime with plenty of combat experience, but they only had kids. That base was meant for kids.
                          
The ghost of a shriek echoed in my ears. They had torture rooms there. The thought left me sick to my stomach.
                          
I turned the light off in my bathroom and strided to where I had discarded my mask and the file on my bed. Without a moment to loose, I slipped the mask back on. It was easier if I pretended that I hadn't just seen my features. 
                          
But, the knowledge of what would be easier couldn't quell my newfound curiosity. I cracked my file open just to have it confirmed with a number. I was just barely sixteen. 
                          
I had my birthday while in captivity.
                          
I couldn't even drive yet.
                          
I couldn't even drive yet, but I was fighting rhinos and dodging bullets and fighting off an enemy that should only lurk in nightmares and dealing with issues unparalleled to what most people my age should ever think about. What got me into the whole 'superhero' business so young?
                          
"Spider-Man." The voice was feminine, but not a familiar one. My senses didn't go off, so I couldn't place the speaker.
                          
"God?" I asked tentatively. Wasn't God supposed to be a dude?
                          
"I am FRIDAY, Boss's AI."
                          
"Who's 'Boss'?"
                          
"Anthony Edward Stark."
                          
"Okay... So, what's up then?"
                          
"You're being requested in the medbay."
                          
"I have no idea where that is."
                          
"I'll guide you."
                          
I sighed and stood. Might as well get this over with. I braced myself internally to be led to a place that resembled a room from my captivity, but I arrived in no such room. Instead, my destination was a sleek lab with various gizmos strewn about, including a few medically related pieces of equipment. An asian woman dressed in grey lab attire was waited for my arrival.
                          
"Spider-Man, hey. It's been a while, hasn't it? Can't say I miss your patrol injuries," the woman smiled, moving to shake my hand.
                          
"I'm sorry, I don't, uh..."
                          
"Remember me? That's fine, I can't say I really expected you to. I'm Dr. Helen Cho."
                          
"Nice to meet you, Dr. Cho."
                          
"Alright then," she beamed, clasping her hands together and eyeing me, "first things first: do you feel any pain? Any injuries you already know about?"
                          
"Not anything I'm not used to...?"
                          
She gave me a flat look. "That means nothing considering what just happened to you. Let's have that shirt off, shall we? Don't worry, it's not anything I haven't seen before. You have a nasty habit of getting shot at."