Another chapter up today? Wow! I can't believe it!
Warning: suggested mature content. It doesn't actually happen, just, be aware.
Heather peeks down the hallway. A group of soldiers pass her. When they go around the next corner, she crosses the section and keeps going. She steps into a closet and closes the door. Another group of soldiers pass her.
"Someone that injured doesn't just disappear," one says as they pass.
"She is a super soldier. And I hear she heals fast."
"Why do you think she's here, stupid!" The first yells. Their voices go away.
Heather sighs and reaches back. Due to not being able to move, Heather was left to heal. Of course, she could almost feel the stares of the scientists as they observed her. They even came into her room to probe her back and bruises.
That made it easy to escape. She faked just how much pain she felt, and a scientist came in. He assured the guard that 'SD01' is too much in pain to move. Heather waited until the door closed and he was at her back when she pinned him down and forced him to give her his key card. She then opened the door and ran.
She may have healed a great deal, but it still hurt. "Okay.." She says, steadying herself, "find communications. Then you can get a message to Steve."
She peeks out the door. No one is in the hallway yet, so she starts down the hall and tries to find a sign that says 'Communications.'
A door opens up and she can't find a place to hide. So Heather gets into stance as four soldiers step in front of her. "It's SD0-" The one to speak first is the first to be tackled. Heather feels a hand clamp onto her shoulder, hoisting her off. She spins around, and punches him in the face.
'I'll regret that move later,' she decides, feeling the splits in her back stretch. The next soldier takes out a knife and Heather has to bend and avoid the knife while keeping track of the other three. Heather grabs his wrist and pushes him away, where he trips on the soldier on the floor.
Heather feels a stab in her side. She yells and falls forward. She lands on her knee, the blade coming out. She falls onto her uninjured side and kicks up. Her bare foot connects with his protected chin. His back hits the wall and he shakes his head to clear white dots in his vision.
Heather starts to get back up, but the other two soldiers each have two knives out. 'Come on,' she whines internally, sighing. She blocks one knife, only to be stabbed by a different one. She kicks the person and takes the knife out. She uses it to block another. But she can only track what's in front of her, so she feels two stabs behind her. One is under her shoulder blade, the other is on her leg.
She feels a third in her stomach and she gasps. They take out the two behind her, but leave the third one in her. She falls to the ground, pools of blood forming on the ground. She looks up and sees a door with a sign that says 'Communications' next to it.
'So close..' She sighs. Her arms are pulled behind her and she's stood up. She yelps at her injuries.
"Walk, SD01," a soldier behind her says. Heather's vision is blurry. Someone kicks her foot forward, but that only makes her slump down. Her vision is speckled with black.
"Lay her down," one says. Heather feels the cool floor and warm wet blood on her back.
'Fight,' she tells herself, 'you're so close, just get up and run to the room. Contact the Avengers. Even if you can't say anything, they'll check it out anyway.'
But she can't bring herself to move. She's picked up and placed on a stretcher. They carry her to a very white room and a doctor comes in. He looks over her injuries, with her wrists and ankles secured to the table with straps. He cleans around the first wound and starts stitching it up.
"You can't help but try to get in trouble," Red Skull says the moment he walks through the door. Heather glares at him. The doctor tugs on the thread, making Heather groan. "I think I underestimated you, Ms. America."
"Stop calling me that," Heather says through gritted teeth.
"And you think the Avengers will come," he says, amused.
"They will find me," Heather replies, "I may not even have to send them a message, they are probably already on their way."
"Do you really believe that?" Red Skull asks. Heather stares at him. Somehow he can see that she's partially bluffing. She doesn't know if the Avengers have any clue to where she could be. But she's staying as optimistic as she can.
"Yes sir," the doctor says. Heather hadn't noticed that Red Skull was talking to him.
"And make sure she doesn't die," Red Skull asks.
"You will underestimate all of them," Heather says.
Red Skull turns around, "I think I know each of the Avengers well enough. Captain America hasn't changed. There's another Stark, one who has a suit he's completely dependent on. A monster of a genius man, but he probably won't be in the field due to his.. Problem. A Demi-god of Norse origin, an assasin, much like the Winter Soldier Hydra had created, and apparently gave away," Red Skull lists off, "a master archer, and-"
"Hawkeye is more than an archer," Heather defends.
"-finally," Red Skull says, ignoring her, "a man with mechanical wings. ..Did I miss anybody, Ms. America?"
Heather raises her chin so she looks less in pain than she is, "One super pissed off super soldier, who -despite her pacifist tendencies- has a knack of holding violent grudges against those that hurt those close to her."
"If you are referring to me, what have I hurt?"
"You created an organization that is responsible for destroying a chance at a normal life for my family, created a monster that took my sister's innocence, and keeps me far away from them," Heather says, "you are in a very dangerous situation."
Red Skull chortles as he walks forward, "As true as that all may be, Ms. America," he bends down so she can see every wrinkle in his burnt skin, "You lost."
"You still underestimate me. I'll get out of here, with or without the Avengers help," Heather says, right before yelping at the cleaner the doctor put on a wound.
Red Skull tsks, making Heather look back at him with a hand, "You are terrible at bluffing, Ms. America. I suggest you never gamble." He lets go of her head and exits the room. Heather lets her head fall back onto the table.
'I am terrible at bluffing,' Heather thinks. She closes her eyes, feeling only the needle in her side and the doubt gripping her heart.
Heather passes out at some point while the doctor was sewing her up. She wakes up in her cell, on the now blood soaked cot. She doesn't try to get up, but lifts her head a little. She's in the same clothes as before, still covered in blood with slices in the fabric. She fingers one of the cuts, feeling no bandages underneath, only a neat row of stitches. She leans her head back and stares at the ceiling.
'Good thing the light is off,' Heather quips to herself, 'I won't be blinded by the dim lighting.' She chuckles, but she stops because of the ache in her side. She stares at the ceiling, physically feeling the seconds pass by.
Heather's stomach rumbles. Heather guesses that they feed her twice a day, to keep her energy up at somewhere normal. But since she tried to escape, no one had come to give her food. No one had come at all, except to change who watched her.
"Guard change," someone says outside her door, right on time. There's a shuffling of feet, then it's quiet.
"She's such a little spit fire," a guard says.
"But be careful," his partner says, "she might actually spit fire."
They laugh as Heather scowls. 'I wish, stupid,' she thinks.
"She's in there now, right?"
"Would we be standing here if she wasn't?"
"Right. But.. I've never actually-" One of their heads appears in the window. "It's too dark."
"What? You don't know what she looks like?"
"Not really."
"For super soldiers, she's probably one of the better looking ones," the second says, "but then again, she's the only girl I know of, so that adds to it."
"So?"
"So, what?"
"What does she look like?"
There's silence. "..Why don't I show you?"
Heather's eyebrows go up, "I don't think we are allowed to go in there."
"It's going to be a few days until they try anything else," Heather hears, "they're just starving her for now, while the brains watch her from the window. If they can see her, why shouldn't we?"
"Aren't they in there now?" Heather hears a jingling of keys.
"Nah, they are probably with some other poor 'patient.' She's all ours until the next shift. ..What are you so afraid of? I've been in this hell hole for almost half a month. Until I'm shipped out of here, it's guys, guys, and girls so strict I can't touch them with a ten foot pole."
"Geesh, didn't need a description. Yeah, I'm with you." The door opens. Heather looks up at them. "Hi, SD01," the first says, suddenly over his nerves.
Heather glares at them.
"Close the door," the second says. He walks over to Heather, taking his gloves off, "You got no where to go, and no savior to rescue you," he says slowly, looking Heather over.
She tenses under his gaze.
The door slams open, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Heather looks at the new person, her glare turning to stone. Bryce stands there, in Hydra gear, smiling as easily as he did before. His nose is still a little crooked, but the bandages are gone.
"Herr Schmidt ordered that no one touch her," Bryce says. He looks at the two. "Get back to your guard duty."
"Yes sir, Agent Rumlow," one salutes. The other follows him out. One stands on either side of the door. Bryce steps in and closes it. He pockets the keycard and turns to look at Heather.
"Aww, don't look at me like that," Bryce says. He sits down under the window. "What I said was true. I can't touch you." He smiles wickedly, "doesn't mean I can't imagine it though."
Heather wants to puke.
"Speaking of imagining, could you have figured that we'd end up here?" Bryce looks around, leaning back casually, "I was really surprised to learn you were a super soldier. I didn't really like your description of me. Didn't leave a very good impression with my new boss."
"You're Brock Rumlow's nephew," Heather points out.
"Yep. My parents thought I was lost for ten years," Bryce says, whistling, "But I know the truth. Hydra is going to run this world, the right way. And I was given the honor to be apart of it."
He stood up, pacing slowly, "Of course, my parents didn't believe me when I got home, so-" he snapped his fingers, "I didn't think too much about them after I got out of prison."
"How did you get out?" Heather asks.
"Uncle had a few strings still in Hydra. It was so easy, it was comical," Bryce laughs for a moment. Then he turns to Heather and squats next to her cot. "I want you to know something. I would have loved to see those two tear you apart, I would have."
A chill runs up Heather's spine.
"But I'm sticking to the rules, but once that rule no longer applies, you're mine."
Heather tries to burn a hole in his head.
He leans closer, "Because what I'd love more, is to be the one, that tears you apart." He stands up. "I'll see you then, Ms. America. Because then, you'll be as broken as your little 'sister,'" he uses quotes.
"We'll settle this right now!" Heather says, trying to sit up. Bryce walks backwards to the door, watching her struggle and groan. She then stops and looks at the cot below her as the door opens. "You know what Bryce, you're right. I can imagine too." She looks up, "I can imagine making you suffer over, and over again. Everything I go through, everything I have to endure, you will go through a thousand times worse pain. The only difference is no one can save you, while I-"
"Heather, sweetheart," Bryce interrupts, "no one is saving you. Accept the facts, the world just ain't fair." He smiles brightly, then slams the door shut.
Bryce is proving, yet again how he is the worst character I have ever written.
Heather tried to escape again, only it didn't go as planned.
And now she's been starved. Great. (sarcasm!)
So, I think this is all I'll get written for this today.
Bye!
~CtW