She was aware of two things when she regained consciousness. One, she had been placed in a room made entirely of concrete, and two, there was a large, metal band strapped around her hips, completely securing her to the flimsy cot she was laying on. She worked her way up into a half-sitting position, propped up on her elbows, taking advantage of the slight mobility the restraining band had allowed her. Someone had clothed her in black pants and a tank top. She surveyed the room. No door that she could detect. No windows either. There was a single fluorescent light flickering in the ceiling.
She sighed, frowning.
Her head hurt.
Her everything hurt.
Suddenly, there was a loud grating sound, and a portion of the wall slid open, allowing a man to walk through. She recognized him as the same man who had grabbed her hair earlier, and her lips parted in a snarl.
He chuckled, infuriating her.
"No, no, none of that." he said condescendingly. "I'd hate to sedate you again."
She spoke, her voice cracking and sounding like it hadn't been used in years.
"Who the hell are you?"
He sat on the end of her cot and she recoiled, only to be reprimanded by the restraining band. He smiled mockingly.
"The more appropriate question is who are you?"
Her frown deepened as she wracked her brain, trying to come up with an answer. A sharp pain jolted through her head the harder thought, further increasing her levels of frustration. Finally, as the pain reached a level that was almost unbearable, she spoke weakly.
"I… I don't know…"
She wanted to pummel the man until he lost the smug look that adorned his face after her response.
"My name is Alexander Pierce," he said, his gray eyes boring down into hers. "Welcome to HYDRA, Subject 19."
Without waiting for her response, he began to speak again.
"For the past century, HYDRA has been developing a serum intended to boost the physical and mental capabilities of average humans. Throughout the years, we've witnessed spectacular results, but only on males. Until recently, all our clinical trials on women have failed, ending in a zero-percent success rate. Ending in death. The female body was too weak to withstand the intense changes to the DNA that the serum causes. Or so we thought, until you came along."
Confusion ruled her features.
"I don't…"
Pierce folded his hands in his lap before continuing.
"HYDRA doesn't understand why the serum worked on you and we intend to figure out why. As of right now, you are an invaluable asset to us."
Subject 19 swallowed hard, feeling as if there was a knife in her throat.
"Maybe you just got lucky."
"Perhaps. Or perhaps there is something unique regarding your genetic makeup. Either way, it will be studied."
"I'm not a lab rat!" she cried angrily, trying to sit up, but once again being stopped by the restraining band, "Oh, for the love of… fuck this thing!" Subject 19 slammed her fists down on the metal band.
Pierce watched her struggle with a smirk on his face.
"You don't know what you are. And as for the restraint, it will be removed if you behave, my dear."
She began to panic fully, hating the way he had addressed her.
"Let me go- please! I want to go!" she begged.
"I'm afraid I can't do that."
"Please!" she choked out, feeling a sob threaten to tear at her throat.
Alexander Pierce shook his head in a, tsk-tsk-tsk way, and stood, turning to leave as the wall slid open once more, but not before addressing her once more, putting a volume of threats and promises of terror behind one word.
"Behave."
Apparently, HYDRA's ideas of, "studying," Subject 19 included subjecting her to vigorous tests, such as making her run for hours on end with electrodes stuck all over her body in order to measure her speed, heart rate, and other vital functions, lifting inordinate amounts of weight, (which she ultimately failed at), and other things, such as testing her mental aptitude and psychological strength. The tests were unpleasant and invasive, but ultimately, 19 decided that she could probably have it worse. Every day was the same routine. Wake up at around five a.m., shower, dress, report to the science labs in for testing by five forty-five, run tests until noon, short lunch break, more tests until eight p.m., return to her holding cell for dinner, battle insomnia, and then, if she was lucky, sleep.
By the third week, she was too tired to struggle. She supposed that was HYDRA's sick way of controlling her- deprive her of sleep until she was too fatigued to fight back.
She behaved, but whether it was out of choice or necessity, she wasn't sure.
Her situation wasn't ideal by any means, but it would've been fine. Completely and utterly fine, if not bearable if HYDRA hadn't decided to pitch her a curveball. And they didn't just pitch her the curveball, no. They threw it towards her head at 900 miles per hour, laughing the entire time.
It was time for her to begin combat training.
a/n: R.I.P Subject 19. I know it's really slow for now, but it'll pick up! I promise.