Please be advised, this chapter contains scenes/descriptions of mild to moderate torture.

The Curse of Dr. Zola

Chapter 2

Over the course of the next several weeks, long hours, poor sleep, and less than satisfying food began to take its toll on the men.

They were tired, achy, and hungry. Some were beaten as a result of falling behind. Some of the men were removed from the cells individually, never to return.

As Bucky's group settled in for the night he was again asked what they were going to do.

"How are we gonna get out of here Sarge?"

"I don't know."

"Where do you think they took those men?"

"Another part of the factory, maybe…" Bucky answered, after a moment's hesitation.

"Are they gonna come back?"

"I don't think so."

"I'm tired Sarge."

"I know so am I."

"Will you girls settle down so the rest of us can get some sleep? Tomorrow is gonna be another long day."

The chattering stopped and the men settled into an uneasy sleep.

At 3AM, the cell door to Bucky's group was unlocked. Soldiers came in and pointed to him. "This one!" They rousted him out of sleep and escorted him out. They were none too gentle with him. He tried to fight back and resist, but several punches to his stomach left him gasping for breath on his knees.

He was yanked back to his feet and forced to go on. With his feet half under him, he was half walked and half dragged to the other side of the building. He observed the path they took and tried to remember it by playing it over in his mind. Finally, they came to a stop and Bucky was pushed forcefully thru a doorway. The door swung shut behind him before he could get back to it. He banged on the door, shouting to be let out.

When the lights went out, he paused, uncertain and anxious. It was pitch black in there and he was alone. He began pounding again. He pounded until his arms ached. He turned his back to the wall, and slid to the floor.

When he was rested, he began exploring his new cell, feeling his way around. He'd had only a brief second or two before the lights went out. Now, he tried to remember how big the room was. He stood up and counted off paces; 12 x 12. He felt along the walls, retraced his steps and counted again, trying to keep his bearings. He wanted to make sure he kept the wall with the door firmly placed in his mind.

He had no way to tell how many hours had gone by, but he knew enough time had passed that he now had to pee. His initial adrenaline had subsided as well. He held out as long as he could, pounding on the door intermittently and shouting for help. Finally, he crossed to the furthest corner and relieved his discomfort. The pain of holding it for so long stopped at last. He went back to the wall with the door and sat on the floor.

To pass the time, he thought of home; what were his parents doing, what trouble was Steve into, how would Steve get along without Bucky there to bail him out, had he given up trying to enlist, what about the rest of the 107th, had any more men been taken away like he had been, was this what the others had gone thru when they were taken away…he shuddered…what was to come next?

He tried to get comfortable lying down, might as well conserve his strength while he had the time. He dozed off after a while and dreamt of home.

The lights came on and blinded him. He felt hands grabbing at him, pulling on him, forcing him to his feet and out of the room. He was just about getting his vision to where he could see as they were forcing him onto a gurney and strapping him down. He fought back, trying to get away. Several blows knocked him to his knees again, but still he kept fighting. A blow to the back of his head finally put him down.

When he woke, he was tightly strapped to a gurney. He struggled without success.

Footfalls sounded, and Bucky stretched his neck to determine the source. A man's face came into view.

"Hello Sergeant Barnes."

He was a small man, older, with glasses, and he spoke with an accent.

"You are going to be my guest here for some time, get used to it, but before we begin, my friends have some questions to ask you."

The little man left and was replaced by some burly looking soldiers. They began questioning him. All Bucky would give them for information was his name, rank, and serial number.

They shone hot, bright lights in his face. They repeated their questions over and over. They would not let him eat, drink or sleep. They poked at him, shook him; kept at him for hours. They spun the gurney around and around until Bucky threw up what little his stomach held. He'd soiled himself as well, he couldn't help it.

He was exhausted when they brought him back to the cell cleaned up, but naked. A tray of food had been left, and his urine had been cleaned from the corner. A bucket now stood there. Bucky could barely pick his head up from the floor. He slept, or passed out, he didn't know which, but when he woke, he ate the food, and used the bucket. His clothes had been laundered, and left while he'd slept. He put them on and tried to get some more sleep. He no longer knew if it were daytime or night.

The lights went out for a couple of hours, and then back on. The routine began again. Blinded, he was dragged back to questioning, back to the gurney, back to being spun around….