James Buchanan Barnes isn't a killer. He isn't merciless, or cunning, or evil.
But something in him is.
*****
A wrapper crinkles, fabric shifts, and a small, open hand jerks in front of my face. The smell of powdery chocolate and oats meets my nos...
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A star.
A bright blue star.
Ten bodies. Five points.
My hands hang uselessly at my sides. My knees scrape over shattered glass, and I bite back a scream as it tears through my skin.
Red follows me in rivers.
As I walk closer, crawl closer, fire begins to burn from around the edges of the star. It writhes and coils through the air like a serpent - burning, biting, killing all it meets.
My lungs heave as it nears me. As it snakes crystal blue tendrils over my shoulders and around my neck. As plumes of silvery smoke meet my nostrils in waves. I struggle against invisible fists. Scream through an invisible mask.
But no.
I want to be here.
I relish in the sight of the flames. In the sight of the bodies littered about the space.
Something in me likes it.
A faceless smile flashes before me, and I fight to twist away from the paleness of its teeth. I pull against my own shackles to get away from the ice of its grin.
Something inside me breaks, forms together, and shatters again. My mind remolds itself in snow only to melt and storm down in acid rain.
I can't stop, I can't stop, I can't stop, I can't stop.
I can't think.
The smile widens beyond nature, and teeth break apart into icicles. Gums tear and ruby blood spills through to form a waterfall of red.
It washes over me and I drown.
Over and over and over again I drown.
It's only when I'm drenched in red and drained of strength and will and self that the drowning stops. It's only when the flesh of my knees has torn away from bone and left me screaming in a desolate silence that the pain eases.
It's only when I let my eyes fall closed that the world falls away and the ice and blood and fire fade to a steady darkness.
It's only when I wake beneath sweat stained white sheets and atop a sweat stained grey pillow that I let myself curl - bent over sideways, arms braced beneath my head, legs entwined.
Only then do I let the tears fall.
*****
"I'm going to have a heart attack." My trainee manages through rushed, breathless movements.
My fist narrowly misses the side of Mila's face. She bends left out of the way and wraps a hand around the elbow of my extended arm.
"And it's going to be your fault." She finishes. With a sudden jerk she pulls my arm towards her and I tip forward. Her knee meets my torso and I gulp down remnants of lost air. Mila coils an arm over my throat and leans right, readying herself for a swing to my side.
