Part 3

{ Mastery }

Chapter 19


-Present-

He woke up in a startling breath, his blue eyes widened as he listened to the reprimanding words of torture lull him back into reality, "Having a comfortable nap, Winter." He heard the unemphatic and the abhorrent voice of Rumlow scrape against his ears. He dared himself to peel open his eyes.

The stroke of a gloved hand over his thigh caused him to cringe as the operative was playing nasty to him. A method of torture that separated a man's willpower to respond to an unsavory touch, and devolve respect. He had been treated like an animal for a lifetime, his body mulled by the other HYDRA operatives who had trained with him as the subject for routine interrogations. His resilience and endurance was always the best motivation young recruits needed when they trained under the shadow of the gun.

The Winter Soldier had desperately struggled against the worse part when he was the omega-the weak pup of the pack. He had been forced into a submissive posture, bounded to the prisoner's chair with plastic ties strapped to his ankles and a gun pointing at his head. The alphas were inhumane and obsessed with the error of their methods for dominance for the prize asset. Brock Rumlow was their ruthless and sadistic leader, young and misguided by his own resistance against the corruption that plagued in his veins.

"Come on you worthless accuse for a soldier." Rumlow taunted and dug his nails into the exposed, and bloodied skin of the other man's thigh. "I dare you to fight back." he added, tapping the barrel of his automatic against the Winter Soldier's head, but he didn't move. Grunting out in frustration, Rumlow straightened to his boots, and pursed his stiffened lips sourly at the bounded asset.

He was in the consuming fire. His body accepted the pain—he'd grown to become immune to abuse. Instead of crying like a weak and caged man they were trying to break him into being, he lifted her daunting glacial blue eyes, and seared coldness into him with just one lethal glint of defiance. He relaxed against the chair, sipping out drops of murky blood, tasting the bile threatening to creep up his clenching throat. He knew they wanted to scrape him to the bone, turn him raw and control him. He couldn't be caged—he was untamed, fierce and dangerous. He only wore a mistake for a flinching captive to infiltrate deeper.

Rumlow stood uprooted in front of him, he regarded the operative with his murderous dark eyes glared the Winter Soldier down. He reached over and yanked at the thick strands of the other man's hair, grabbing the locks into a fistful. With a wild jerk, the man's head violently tilted back and pressed a the cold metal of his blade against her jaw. He seemed to have grown angry and irritated his eyes black coals. His gruff voice was laden with spite.
"You thought you could hide your emotions from us, huh, soldier?" He spat, brushing his knuckles over the man's unshaven jaw. " You thought your methods could beat our system… You've made a terrible mistake crossing a line and allowing that sickly brat to hide in the shadows." He moved his hand down and coiled his fingers around the Winter Soldier's thick neck,squeezing hard pressure against his jugular. "They want to keep you alive… I have no idea why because of your compliance. All I see when I look at you is a pathetic mutt who needs to be put down… like every misused dog who gets thrown in this stinking place.

Choking up a gob of coppery tang blood, the Winter Soldier spat a drop at Rumlow's shoe. "The only mutt I see around here is you," He said, malevolence was laced in his raspy baritone. A faint smirk twisted over his swollen lips. He had no idea how those words cultivated in his mind, but it was natural on his tongue when he lifted his redden and bleary azure eyes up at the operative.

"Are you trying to talk dirty to me?" Rumlow chuckled gruffly, almost amused; but his expression shifted into dark glower. "I didn't know that HYDRA's loyal asset had a sense of humor."

"Только тогда, когда я окружен зомби." (Only when I'm surrounded by idiots.) He shot back in Russian, his glazed pale blue eyes held a mischievous twinkle as blood ran down his throat. "And you are an idiot, Rumlow." he added with a viscous hiss escaping from his bruised lips. His eyes landed on the brash operative with a wolfish glare, patient and unpredictable. Rumlow was ruthless, cruel and obsessed with allowing his captives to endure pain with his bare hands.

He trained with the elite and acquired skillets for interrogation. He wasn't a compassionate man. He wasn't someone who was afraid to pull a trigger on an innocent. His mind had been altered with morbid thoughts, that some of the other operatives thought he had been a sociopath-he carried a darkness within him that made his victims shun in fear each time he cracked his knuckles.

Rumlow growled in irritation, and slapped his hand against the other man's cheek, hard force caused enough fraction for his knuckles to crack. "Maybe that will teach you to shut your mouth."

Don't give into pain.

The Winter Soldier's lips pressed together into a tighter line of anguish as he fought to maintain eye contact with Rumlow, even through his vision was being consumed with red splotches of pulsing infliction. Through the corner of his eye, he saw Rollina standing in the door with a dissatisfied frown set on his obscured face. His jaw flexed and his eyes met the dark maroon spilling around his strapped boots.

He sucked in a breath and moaned as Rumlow grabbed a fistful of his tangled and drenched brown hair. He jerked his head back, and pulled away, leaving him gasping, confused and vacant from thought as fragments of another life flashed between his screwed eyelids. His forehead gleamed with beads of sweat, heart raced wildly as pulses of red exploded in his darkened vision. Everything shattered in thousands of shards, and that same frail and blonde haired boy stood in the thick haze of muted gray.

Bucky…Remember who you are…

"No…" the Winter Soldier unreleased a strangled cry, breath wheezed from his lungs, and head thrashed with frantic motion against the chair.

His ears dulled.

He started to scream and wouldn't stop. The world had slipped away, all conscious thought became swallowed. He refused to look into Rumlow's cold eyes, glaring down at him as his body welcomed the pain of knuckles digging into the tender flesh of his wrist. He erased all the torment cultivating in his mind,registering the memories as they came in a torrent dousing over his pounding heart. as his senses automatically shut down, and slick muscles flexed with tensed knots. The swirls of distorted imagery sloshed against his addled brain, as he parted his quivering lips and spit out a blob of dark blood onto the floor.

"Get him off that chair!" Rollins barked at the sadistic operative who appeared to be musing over the asset's cries of distress. "The director wants to keep him alive…"

Rumlow scoffed, "The asset isn't dying you idiot," he barked out, pulling the brown strands from the roots, making his captive squeal a little as heat coated over his sculpt. "This is just a sample of what I would do to him if the director ever decided to put him down," he said with a hint of vehemence in his deep voice. Then, he released his hold on the mass of hair, allowing the loose strands to fall limp over the other man's shoulders.

"The brat isn't going to survive… I don't care whose blood she got pumped in her veins, she isn't going to live another week after all those transfusions. Hell, I bet she won't even last another day." He paused for a breath and patted the asset's swollen cheek. "Isn't that right, mutt?" he asked, kicking the metal leg clamps, and an aggressive sneer spreading over his darkened face while he listened to the estranged howls emitting from the asset's stressed throat.

"Avora!" The Winter Soldier screamed. He threw his head back, his hair fell into his owlish blue eyes in a disarray. He bared his teeth, trying to lift his metal wrist off the clamped securing his arm, his ashen skin turned into a crimson hue as blood flooded through his system, and he glared dangerously at the harsh light. Tears sat in his glassy eyes as he thrust his arm outward, breaking the hinges, and grabbed Rumlow's thigh, squeezing and bruising the muscle.

"I left you wounded last time," he snarled, breath grew into erratic pants, as he listened to the thumping sounds of encroaching boots echoing down the halls. He didn't care. He wasn't going to waste another second, Rumlow was now on his mental hit list. "Now, I will kill you…" he growled.

Rollins staggered closer to the chair, and aimed his automatic directly at the asset, pointing the muzzle at his head. "Say that again, and I'll blow your head clean off," he discharged with a smug grin curling over his lips.

"WHERE IS SHE?" the Winter Soldier snarled monstrously, hoping Rollins would give him information on Avora's location. Dread sat in his his heart. "What have you done to her?"

Rumlow's jaw twitched and eyes grew livid as he stared down at the pleading blue eyes of the desensitized assassin. HYDRA's gun. He crouched down, and removed his jagged blade from a strap attached to his boot, slipping it down the other man's leg until he ripped the material of leader. "I don't think you understand what's going around here," he hissed, gazing at the exposed flesh. "Nobody gets to have access of freedom. Not even that little brat you try to protect. I can become your trainer if I want. My own little doll that can easily be broken. Every time she manages to really piss me off, you know doesn't listen to orders, talks back. I can her down to the basement and really of a hell of a time with her. Piece by piece…" He spat with no emotion in his gruff voice, and his hand gestured to Rollins. "Tell the boys in white to double the voltage. I want to hear him scream out her name."

"No!"

The Winter Soldier grunted out and with a surge of rage he increased his strength of his struggle against the clamps restraining his limbs. Remarkably, he managed to lift the pieces of bolts from the hinges, but it wasn't enough to leave Rumlow daunted; no the malevolent HYDRA enforced just side stepped a few inches, holding that smug grin on his face. He was entering the brink; his ire and adrenaline excelled in his blood stream clouding his vision with molten hue of blood red. His jaw parted, and a cluster of growls escaped from the depths of his raw throat that gave him more ground in front of his handlers who look surprised to levels of his resilience his mortality possessed. His pale blue eyes became like blazing embers under the tresses of his matted hair, giving him the feral look as he glowered dangerously at wrathful operative holding a gun before him. They were trapped in an impasse, each gaze held an unpredictable, gleam as the world blacked out, and all he saw was Rumlow. A target of termination.

"What is HYDRA's favorite going to do?" Rumlow growled, his brown eyes glowed with malice and cruelty. The Winter Soldier wasn't unsettled at all by his gaze. "You can't save her, Winter." he added with licking the corners of his mouth, and chuckled lowly, "I can't believe I was afraid of you when we trained, I used to think you were the fist of HYDRA. Our big gun to level down the world to create a better future. Now, all I want to see is your sorry ass become fried until you squirm like the worm you really are…"

The Winter Soldier scoffed with intense derision. "At least I'm not a little ass kicker, Rumlow," he spat out a gob blood at the operative's boots.

Rumlow's nostrils flared, and he took a step forward, coiling his gloved hand around the asset's neck, fingers slithered across the pulse point until he ensnared the firm muscle into a constricting noose. "You want to see the little princess?" he hissed against the asset's ear, giving him no ease of release. "Look to the doorway…"

The deponent and enraged Winter Soldier whipped his head around, and stared blankly at the child cradled in Madame HYDRA's arms. Her rich brown eyes, were no longer full of life, but dead, almost black. She was dressed in a dark garments, and her angelic face held no more innocence. She was gone. His beautiful angel had been chained by the devil and turned into little demon. All he could do was mourn for her as tears glistened over his pallid cheeks.,

"No," his lips trembled into a frown, as he whimpered out her name, fear and anger consumed his body. His metallic hand lifted to reach for her like an anchor in an ocean's raging tempest. "Avora…" he cried, his voice distorted by the unease of tears, His bare chest was heaving with every sob that managed to slip from his lips.

She rested her head on the green haired woman's shoulder, ignoring him as her reconstructed mind created illusions that he no longer existed, that he was a ghost of her past, unimportant and irrelevant.

"Avora remember me…" he croaked out, his voice became weak as he felt a blow jostle the bones of his jaw. Rumlow hit him with firm punch, and his blurry eyes closed as exhausted took its told over him, but he still kept his blue eyes on her. His lips formed into a neutral line as blood seeped down his chin, and he drifted back into the darkness. Sobbing down his throat,he imagined that he was holding her little body in his shielding arms of flesh and metal.

Remember.

Home. It seemed to become a distant memory to her. When she was placed in a diminished hole of grand ball room located beyond the familiar corridors; she felt condemned, the first stirring of dread before delivering a performance. She had to prove her worth, dissemblance and dissemblance of humanity. When the gloved fingers of her handler dug into her skin, it made her feel like she was just a pile of dead meat waiting to be tossed to the ravaging dogs.

She twisted and jerked for release.

Avora had been utterly stripped bare. Wounded. Broken. There was no point of returning back to her old life, innocence was drained out of her. No sense of hope. She was trapped in a dark world -the choking tentacles of HYDRA—drowning her into the red pools of merciless tortures. It was like walking into the corridors of Hades; mind alert and heart pounding with anticipation. Deep beyond the fear, she wanted to see him again-the Winter Soldier, her friend and big intimating brother with a metal arm.

"Never show resistance, Avora. You must be strong." His deep baritone whispered gently in her ears, holding her trembling form close, as she buried her head into the broad muscle of his chest. Moisture leaked from her soggy brown eyes; dripping over the leather armored vest. He didn't react. Instead, he wrapped his metal arm, shielding her with a brotherly embrace. The girl dared herself to look up into his pale blue eyes, as he reflected his inner anguish like a cool plate of mirror belonging to a shattered mirror. He began threading his chromed fingers through her chopped strands, so gentle and soothing it lulled her to fall asleep against him.

Feeling safe under his warmth, Avora curled up into a fetal position, resting her head on his flesh shoulder, and drifted as she listened to his heart thumping in crescendo of peace and contentment.

"Move it!"

Sniffling a little in response of the threatening voice, Avora chanced a glance at Madame HYDRA, feeling the cold hand press over her stomach. The unrelenting touch made her queasy stomach churn. She closed her eyes, sealing off the tears-emotions made her weak-she had to become strong. Her bones jostled with a single jerk of cold pressure.

She'd been under lock down in a strange room for hours, and then dressed with the finest ebony silk and heeled shoes. They added rose to her ashen cheeks, and brushed her mussed hair before she had been given a decent meal in the dining hall. Now, she was standing in the middle bright stage lights; feeling commands drilled into her skull, embedded and hard to extract. It fried her ivory skin, burning deep her pulsing veins, dissolving the little amount of energy she had left. Her exposed skin sizzled and brown eyes narrowed as a twisted sense of malaise took the place of fear. She could smell the dank stench of evil lingering the shadows as her small form automatically displayed submission when she heard the paternal voice of her new father-the Director.

"This is a simple exercise, Avora," he assured in a calming muted voice from the table across her view. "We will start with basics of your training. Succeed each level and you be rewarded. HYDRA gives only the best to those who deserve it." He eased back in his chair, folding his hands together, and observed her vacant emotions. His sharp gaze looked at her tiny small clothed in the black dress, and her dark brown shoulder-length hair brushed neatly with a bow clipped in place. "You look very beautiful in that dress. Do you like it?"

Avora nodded in response. "Yes, sir." she blithered in automatic tone, stuttering and catching her voice. She corrected her stance, arms at her sides. A posture of submission.

Holding smug grin over his lips, the Director leveled his grayish blue eyes at her. "This is your home now, Avora. We are family and chains will not be broken."

She felt her heart pounding against her rib cage, blood ran thick in her veins. "What about my friend?" she asked in timid voice, tears began to swell in her eyes. "Is he part of our family?"

Breathing through his nostrils, the Director rose from the chair, "Let me make one thing clear," his voice shifted into a exposing threat as she withdrew a step back from his towering presence. "The Winter Soldier belongs to HYDRA. He is a weapon. Nothing else but a weapon that we use him to catch the bad people that threaten to hurt our family. What you think he is Avora, is a illusion…He doesn't feel anything."

Listening to those spiteful words, Avora shook her head, "You're wrong," she blurted out in defense. Tears flowed down her ashen cheeks. "He feels everything…" She gritted feeling a new surge of anger bubble inside her. Displaying her last whim of compliance."The soldier is not a weapon." she objected, with a fierce edge breaking the timidness out of her voice. It almost grew into a scream. The brown pools of her eyes darkened into ebony. Molten and engaged. An operative looming behind the chair aimed a gun at her, aligning her small body with steel. "He is my friend."

He eased back, appalled with her protest. He snapped his fingers, and Madame HYDRA emerged from the darkness and snatched her arm with a forceful merciless yank."It will take some time for reprogramming, but you will submit." His words had bitten into the air matching the displeased clench of his jaw. He looked down at Avora with a disappointed gaze, and turned away as the green haired witch hauled her up the wooden stairs and threw her small body into the polished floor boards.

"Let go of me." she spitefully retorted.

"You will learn how to respect our humility." Madame HYDRA hissed, scraping her green polished nail over Avora's cheek. "Unless you want to see your friend suffer in the isolation chamber?"

Avora felt her heart flopping, and plodded to a halt. Her stomach twisted as bile rose up her throat, burning and eating away at the thin lining. Her brown eyes overflowed with tears as strangled yelp managed to escape her lips the moment her jaw banged against the scuffed wood. Blood leaked from the spaces of her teeth and dribbled over her chin. "Please," she begged in a strangled wheeze as her ears dulled with a muffled thump of boots marching closer to her skull. A leather gloved hand grabbed a fistful of hair, jerking her head violently up as a eruption of screams ripped through her vocal cords. "I'll do anything...Don't hurt him."

Madame HYDRA dug her fingernails into the sculpt, and hissed. "You'll do as you're told, when you're told. Cry and you will feel pain. At first the training will be hard, but I know you won't give up the fight. It's in your blood to kill…You were created to become a killing machine. The new face of HYDRA. You are resurrected phoenix from the ashes of the great Red Skull." She released her hold on the tangles of hair, and listened to Avora choke out a few drops of maroon as satisfied smirk crept over her pale face. "Your blood is pure and your body is strong…You are a daughter of HYDRA."

Avora squeezed her eyes shut, and trembled into a curled form on the floorboards as salty tears mixed with blood. The serum entwined in torrents in her veins. Her eyes blared as splotches of red gathered in her eyes. The urge to kill grew massive in her mind as she felt heat searing in her bloodstream. Her bones felt torched sizzling as the serum merged with every cell and rewrote her DNA strands. It was ripping her a part on the inside and rebuilding the tainted pieces with power. Cold and relentless power. She rattled and shock against the floor, clawing into the wood, but pinned down by her superiors boot pressuring against her ribs.

Blood smeared across her face and heart jolted with erratic beats. Screams discharged with rabid pleas of mercy, tearing through her tiny shape. Tears spilled from her eyes with excruciating acceptance of the emergence of the serum taking hold of her. Avora reached out her hand to grab something to pull her away, but her muscles locked and a fever broke out. "NO!" she screeched viciously, thrashing against the floor as her fingers gripped the leather boot and moved upward to the exposed skin of Madame HYDRA's leg.

Bones crunched and the empowering stench of copper overcame her, the scent filling her airways and controlling her senses until a taste coated over her lips.

"Hail..." She panted out labored breaths, and clasped all her strength into the muscles of the leg. A snap of bone drove her into a black abyss as Madame HYDRA screamed out in pain. In her response, Avora snapped her darkened eyes open and looked at the green haired woman with no emotion, and whispered, "Hail HYDRA..."