Have you ever considered what it felt like to have your free will taken from you; ripped from you whole by the one person you considered you 'trusted'? Your conscience turned into someone else's, if not nothing at all.
Elizabeth wasn't sure if she felt this, for if she did she had no recollection; her thoughts were clouds that meant nothing, pushed to the brims of her mind by the the strongest wind: pain. It was almost like the searing burn you hear when you place raw meat in a hot pan, with the pan's rims beginning to etch itself into the smooth skin of the meat, distorting it forever.
Except the distortion had begun its toll too long after she was placed in the pan; her head hanging heavily from her neck as she attempted to ignore the various nerves telling her her body was in desperate need of mend. The fact was obvious, what with her hands tied above her head in chains, gripping themselves into the skin and leaving her a few inches off the floor; her body appearing to be a punching bag in the distance, and even more so once you would notice the vast array of scars, bruises, and burns on her body up close.
Each day she would awake from the blackout of before the same way—pain, pain, and even more pain. It never helped that the only faces she saw were the two that now shook her awake whenever she consciously closed her eyelids—Nicholas Whitehall and Alexis Sparks; the Gutter and the Pheonix. The irony of it all almost made her puke, which wasn't uncommon considering her new diet of water and oxygen.
Today was just like any other; the small frail Eliza jolting awake from her previous blackout, pulling on the chains around her wrists as if it would do her any good (which she was well aware it would not); but you see, it was just a routine. The familiarity of it all made her feel as if she had some individuality left in her; that she wasn't as dead on the interior as she felt on the ex.
"Good morning . Sleep well?" Nicholas had always held this antagonizing tone in his voice, somehow making you wanting to succumb to his very want and need for fear of displeasing him. By now, she had been sick of it; her eyes rolling along with her head as Alexis came into her vision; black hair, wings, and all.
The room was met with silence after the males words, making the blonde girl shiver in the slip she had been wearing—though by now was covered in many holes with burnt edges—before her eyes had met blues.
"You don't—... Y-you don't have to do this." being that she hadn't drank anything for the past few days and seemed to only scream instead, Elizabeth's voice sounded blotchy and inaudible. The only reason she was heard was because of the silence, making her words seem to vibrate off of each concrete wall surrounding the three.
For a second, everything was still as Alexis never took her gaze off the smaller girl, almost as of she was looking for something that wasn't there. However it wasn't long until a small flame was apparent in her hand.
"Mind if I get the first blow of the day?"
And it began; the burning of her skin, the bleeding when there was a seconds hesitance, and most of all, the screams that would tear through her throat. She had never voiced any words though, afraid she'd end up giving in and begging for mercy no matter the terms. So she put up with each distortion done to her skin, her mind, and in reality, her soul.
As time would go on she would grow tired, accepting the damage done as well as the fact that no one was coming for her. In reality, she knew anyone who would make any attempt to find her would just end up dead at the door, and so she latched onto the latter option as if it were somehow better. Though she did remind herself that she still had Alexis, no matter what type of compulsion she was under; she knew underneath was her own conscience, trapped, and trying anything to get out. She had attempted to provoke it many times before, but nothing happened; only a more severe form of torture, pulling her eighth amendment rights from under her feet. Despite such results, she still tried, over and over again. Even now when her mind was ready to pass into a void for the next twenty four hours, she tried. Mentioning everyone—Blake Matthews, her brother Alex, herself in different context with her cousin Matthew Hanson, Rachel Wayne, their Asgardian friend Azalea, Midnight Thomas with her eccentric roommate Michael Arsenal, Lucinda Stark and her brother Dominic, but most of all, she spoke of Jonathan. Nothing ended up with results. No matter what context; what memory; what name. She was still the emotionless drone the Whitehall son had wrapped around his finger. And so Eliza just began mumbling; keeping herself awake and attempting to ignore the mush her internal organs felt like they were becoming. Everything was first nothing; something to be passed over as Alexis continued her 'job'. Though that was until her last statement.
"Theo... He would agree with me when I say you're still in there Lex." The words about the youngest Stark son seemed to tumble out; her mind having forgotten about him before. He was the black sheep of course, yet still vital to Alexis. /Still/, because of the way she seemed to freeze at the first pronunciation of the boys name; the flame on her hand disappearing as her blue eyes had sparked.
"Theo..." The raven haired girl repeated, widening her eyes as if the words meant a large something to her. From this point, Nicholas was intrigued; standing up straighter as his attention turned from the hanging meat to his prized angel.
"Theo's nothing, Sparks; you have me, remember?" Elizabeth cringed at his words as she watch what she suspected was his hand take a grip on Alexis' pale, skinny arm; the girl pushing him back as the fire in her hands reemerged.
"You... You're not who you say you are; you're nothing to me, and you've /ruined/ me you—," Though her words didn't make any complete sense, it was obvious the girl with the wings realized the position she was forcefully put into; her body in a fighting stance and her eyes determined as her fists were covered in a beautiful battle of flames.
The Whitehall across from her seemed to twitch at her words, deciding against taking a step ahead as he watched the fire with dark eyes. It seemed like this scene had played on for a while; Alexis ready to throw a hit and Nick standing still while everything seemed foggy in Eliza's head. The one thing that broke it was her small voice managing a low "Lex..." which finally registered in the other girls brain.
"Eliza what happ—... Oh my god... /I did this.../" the orange flames had dies in Alexis' hands as she spoke the words that should have saved her; what should have been a defining statement before she helped her out and past the chaos.
But of course, that wasn't what happened.
In a second, the murky room was full of men in head to toe black. Not a clothing black, but a battle uniform you would only see on a SHIELD extraction team. At first the young doctor had hoped this was in fact the said agency, but as one of the many broad men brought the handle of his gun in contact with the angel's skull, she could see this wasn't in fact SHIELD. It couldn't have been, because on the neck of every uniform was a skull; a skull with arms that looked like knives that would wrap around your throat and slit it clean.
Before Eliza blacked out once more, she had heard a distinct voice speak in his normal antagonizing ways.
"Hail Hydra."