Only his Doll (Bucky Barnes×OC)

Chapter 20: Giving Up

First of all, thank you all so much for your support and reading!
When I started this book, I never thought I would get this far.

Oh well, back to the story, seems like things aren't going good. ○_○

(I feel like killing her *hehehehe*) LMAO

Word count: 1420
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Ernaline's POV (what we have been waiting for like, forever) :

I watch as he rips my heart, not showing a single bit of care in his eyes. Strangers. Enemies. Two soldiers in a war on different teams. Like I'm nothing. Like he never saw me, like he wasn't the one that raised me. I would be wrong if I said I didn't care. All the years of my life I waited for him to come home, or rather in my prison, to hug me, sit me on his lap, and talk with me, play with me. Instead, he would come, yell at me, torture me and make every problem of his life look like I caused it.

Another scream, no other than mine aches through the room as he carves with a knife, already too deep in my stomach. Blood dripping to the floor, and all I can do is watch him, slowly, painfully, kill me. I can't do anything. My legs and arms are strapped to the metal chair strongly, almost stopping my circulation. My body feels limp, face swollen and my mind in the other space as his laugh fills the room. Laugh. He laughs at me. Laughs at the only child he ever had, the only person that saw a glimpse of light in him, burn.
I knew I was wrong. The minute I ran out of the hell he put me in, I didn't regret it. I knew he was a monster, not the good one, not the one I like to play with. He was emotionless. The worst kind of it all.

He leaves the room, purposely dropping the knife on the floor next to the door, challenging me to try and get it, just for his plays. My stomach is bleeding badly, I can taste iron on my tongue, and I don't dare to look at myself in the mirror. Seconds later in the room comes a woman, cleaning and stitching me up, so he could continue with his torture. I haven't given in. I won't please his wishes. I won't beg him to let me live, and I won't beg him to kill me either.
I knew that from the first moment he stabbed me into the stomach, hutting me with chains, his fist ending on my face, and blood under my tights an hour later. There isn't a place that wasn't hit by him, bruised by him, cut by him.
He took my life from me. A glimpse of light that I tried to keep safe because it was keeping me alive.

I couldn't do it. I don't think I can. My body feels-I don't feel it anymore. Barely moving my head, not having strength for the battle. The woman looks at me then at the knife, she stands up, untying my legs and hands, grabbing a knife from the floor and exiting.

I wanted to fight her, to fight for the knife in hopes that I could escape, but my body couldn't. My will wanted, but my body, my brain, my heart, my soul wasn't strong enough to make the move. Now, it doesn't matter, it's in the past. I don't even know for how long I have been locked up here. I would say easy 10 days or something?

As she exits I slowly try to get up, but I fall. I fall on the floor, struggling to get up I somehow with sloppy steps, make it to the bed. Trying to stay awake was hard when I planned on finding a way out of here, but my vision is blurred and I let myself give in.

Remembering very much the first day. The day that caused all my dreams, plans and happiness to die in seconds.

*Flashback*

I drove and drove as fast as I could, turning right, left everywhere. But it was all useless. They still were following me. I stole a few more minutes on turns and sped off. In a matter of minutes I came back to the house I was supposed to stay in.

There were a lot of men, guns and cars. On a first look, I was relieved, but at the second glance, terrified. The men standing weren't mine. Mine were dead on the floor, tied up against the wall or knocked out. There was no going back now, they are behind me. Not much, but not little.

I got out of the car, and that's when men came rushing over me. I took my guns firing bullets everywhere I could as I hid behind the car. When I was about to get surrounded, I punched, pushed, broke as much as I could until the last man, or rather woman standing was me. Nothing much could've been done to help ones on the ground. I reached in the house, trying to find objects to use, waiting impatiently for Natasha to show up.

Cars slowly pulled up and men jumped out, pointing guns everywhere, but it was useless, I was here. I stood behind the doors, impatiently waiting for them to open, so I could attack my target. Men rushed into the house, I could hear them breaking and riping stuff. Doors swing open and I hit a guy with a gun as he falls unconscious.

That's what you get for trying to kill me bitch.

I reach out my guns, and men come in the room, and I take each one of them until I run out of bullets and the room is filled with those devil's soldiers. A wave of pain hits me as one of them shoots my leg making me stumble and fall on the floor. I reach out for my gun, but the fucker is empty. One of them, a massive bodybuilder cones up and lifts me before sticking a needle in my neck.

They don't want me dead?

It takes me seconds to become unconscious and my body goes limp in his hands.

I wake up with a slight headache to find myself in a grey room with only a bed, table and a chair I'm sitting on in.
I try moving, but ties are strongly tied and the chair is metal, not allowing me to try and break it.

Minutes pass by, and no one else than my father enters the room, followed by nobody else than Ante, the old rats. Many terrible memories come to my mind, but I had to keep myself from breaking down, especially in front of those saints.

"Well, well who do we have here." My father asks, smiling like a devil, like a wolf looking at his weak prey, like he looks at every woman. It makes me sick.

"My mother"

"Oh right she's dead because someone killed her for nothing else but power," I say, and a slap makes its way to my cheek. I have been slapped harder in bed than this here.

"It was all your fault! She would've been alive f you haven't stood on side of an enemy" He said gritting his teeth, placing different kinds of knives on the table."NO, YOU DON'T GET TO DO THIS! YOU CAN'T! I WILL NOT LET YOU MANIPULATE ME INTO THINKING IT WAS ALL MY FAULT! NOT ANYMORE!" I scream in Ante's face, as I can't see my father clear, due to this giant rat standing in my way.

"You, an enemy-" I scream. I scream so loud that soundproof walls wouldn't be from usage, as he sticks his blade right into my lower stomach."You thought I wouldn't get to know? That I would let this slip? I want to watch you beg me to kill you, to take life away from you." He punches me, keeping the blade in my stomach, not wanting me to die from blood loss. He stands there, laughing like a possessed man. Ante joins his laugh as they walk out of the room, leaving me grunting in pain.

Seconds later a doctor enters my room.

*End of the flashback*

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Question of the day. How long will it take Sophia to stop watching Originals and come here? I'm guessing solid 10-15 minutes if not so, then, like 15 hours 🤣🤣🤣