A/N - My knowledge on the Avengers isn't extensive... I've only watched each movie once (I'll probably watch some of them again when i get to that part of the story). If any of this story diverges from accuracy of the Avenger timeline, characters, etc., please forgive me. If you think I messed up on something important please inform me so I can correct it.
Thanks in advance!
Eleven Years Later
The wine red dress was quite short and low cut, but she was used to it by now. It did the job well because the men loved it. And this particular gentleman was a cookie cutter case.
He was older, slightly out of shape, and shorter that the female in her matching red heels, which made it a little more difficult for her to play the part. But when he grabbed her backside again, she poured her disgust into throwing him a seductuve smirk and led him further down the corridor to a room, previously prepared for such a purpose.
What this man's crimes were against them, she knew not. She just knew he was on the list. There was a name and an address and instructions - so she followed them.
Time was ticking, as she opened the door he violently pushed her against, and then locked it behind them discretely. It was still an empty room to her relief. He pushed her back against the door, his repulsive tongue immediately invading her plush, painted lips. She submitted, realizing that he didn't like when she took control. The female willed it to be over quickly as the ginger's stomach bulged at her abdomen uncomfortably.
A few faked sighs and some subtle posture changes and she was in position. Her eyes slid shut so he wouldn't be startled by their proceeding glow. Sucking at his throat, her canines enlarged, cutting swiftly through his blood vessels and her jaws clamped to crush his esophagus.
The man's body went limp with only an almost inaudible gurgle.
With practiced ease, she quickly slid the bag around him to ensure no blood drops were left on the carpet. Her ears, now pointed and covered lightly in dark fur, perked up at a ruckus in the corridor.
"Où est cette putain? Tue-la!" The death call echoed down the corridor.
She hadn't been as slick as she thought, as unbenownst to her, an enemy had been tracking her movements. She hurried now and secured the man's body, taking the bag in her strong jaws and opening the window. Someone was now bodyslamming the door. She dropped out of the second story window landing on all four paws. No longer a young girl to the average onlooker, but rather a black blur of a different creature.
Sirens sounded the streets of Paris, but alas, André Bonjois was dead and the murderer vanished without a trace.
Back in HYDRA's German facility, C4, as they still called their most loyal asset, rocked in a curled position on the bed. Usually, her other form would keep her warm in the colder nights, but it was currently exhausted from their most recent excursion. The room was small and had a long window overlooking the mountains. Despite its bare and old appearance, the dwelling was a luxury suite in comparison to others which held those like her, as it also contained her own toilet and sink and some small trees and flowers she was able to convince her manager were beneficial to the recuperation of her other self.
The sharp clank of a heavy door opening disrupted the still air. A dull eyed messenger stood in the entrance with little regard to C4's privacy, though it wasn't as if she expected or even realized that she could be treated any differently. In fact, C4 was just glad that her door was so easy to open, due to her hard earned privilege of an unlocked door and an unbarred windows - a privilege she didn't use unless it was necessary.
"Baron Strucker requires you in his office at 7a." The messenger, Johann (yo-han) she recalled, relayed robotically before leaving just as abruptly as he had arrived.
Although such a meeting may have been a cause of anxiety to others, C4 actually looked forward to it. Not only was the Baron quite agreeable towards her, but he always had one thing to ensure a favorable temperament in his favorite asset.
That is, bacon.
C4 was only thirteen, but had long since made her first kill and completed many missions. The Baron had been leading her through a market when he got caught in conversation with a high Berlin official. Having finished some twenty minutes later, his anger kindled as he noticed C4 was not in sight – though he almost immediately caught a glimpse of her amidst a throng of people looking through a nearby window. The Baron approached her, but as he opened his mouth to reprimand her, he was struck by the sight of her – wide eyes beginning to glow unnaturally, a small dribble of saliva appearing through her peachy lips. The rebuke left his tongue with hardly any bite, "I did not see you for a moment." She knew it was her responsibility to stay in his line of sight.
She looked up, the glow abruptly left her eyes and she straightened immediately – the hungry dreaming girl was gone and the soldier had replaced it again. The Baron almost felt a twinge of sadness, but he couldn't have – he was, after all, the infamous Wolfgang von Strucker. "I am so sorry. That was very careless of me." Though she had quite perfected the German language, her Russian accent seeped through when she was not careful. "I was just remembering how we would watch through the windows as the mothers cooked bacon for their families." Her eyes were wistful again momentarily, but then turned fearful as she remembered, "Oh, I am sorry. Karpov said I must not speak of the former days."
The Baron grabbed her arm, dragging her with more force than necessary. The girl's mind raced with possibilities of what her soon to be punishment could be. In the Baron's mind a much different scenario was at play. He pulled her into the butchers shop, finding himself amused when confusion overtook her features. This wasn't for the girl, he reasoned in his mind. He was doing it to satiate his own hunger and to manipulate the asset into submission to himself. It couldn't have been because he pitied the girl, because he couldn't have – he was, after all, the infamous Wolfgang von Strucker. In fact, the last time he deliberately was kind to someone was before the painful, torturous death of his poor mother due to a poisonous gas bomb set by an English secret serviceman. Since she drew her final breath, he felt all good emotions be drained replaced with an endless thirst for something - and thus far that thirst had been quenched with his hunt for supernatural power.
"How can I help you, sir?" The burly butcher addressed the Baron.
"A pound of bacon if you would. The best cut."
It wasn't until she sat in Von Stucker's office later that morning, sharing a plate of the delicious breakfast meat with the Baron, that she fully comprehended what had occurred.
C4 licked her fingers of grease as the Baron announced the purpose of the meeting. It had become a silent agreement that no serious discussion would ensue until after the meal was finished, which had become a bimonthly tradition for the past seven years.
"We are leaving for Siberia next week." C4's stomach dropped, but made no protest - she and the Baron may have gained a sort of familiarity with each other, but he was by no means a kindly or unselfish man in any sense of the terms. Regardless, she knew she'd have to face Karpov again eventually.
All these thought were forgotten when the Baron continued with a much more startling revelation.
"They're waking up the Winter Soldier, and you are going to meet him."
A/N Please review!