𝗗𝗜𝗚𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗟 𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘

Prologue

Crossposted on ao3: @ girlsagainstgod

TW: Mentions of child abuse and just general strange behaviour

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Subject 27098:

Name: Isabell Marlene Hansen

D.O.B.: 07/12/2006

Considered Project :The Faceless Children - Also known as The Indestructibles

Height: 3ft, 11 ins

Weight: 3st, 0lbs

Physical Assessment Notes : Subject is healthy, strong and a quality host of the serum. Her mind is well-developed, she is intelligent and she responds well to treatment.

Personality Assessment Notes: Resilient character, presents a fierce protectiveness of herself. Complications lie in her undying ability to do right and to make friends, but can be easily corrected with the right training and punishments. Would work well paired with a subject from the Winter Soldier program, though may grow too attached. Concept will be considered in later stages of progression. In the case of this, subject is highly compatible with: JAMES B. BARNES.

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October 12th 2011

In the dark, damp shadows of a cell, something cries. Or rather, perhaps, someone.

A little girl, barely more than four, huddled deep into the dingy corners of her container. Her hair is ratty, her eyes are bloodshot and she has a consistent tremor in her hands, like some sort of nervous tic. Whenever she hears a noise, may it be footsteps from outside or a scratching in the walls, she yelps, only sobbing harder.

She is not crying for her parents, nor for some comfort she has grown to miss. She has never known comfort. There has been no safety for her, no warm mother to turn to or a fluffy feathered bed. No home-cooked meals, a cat curled up by the fire, a father bouncing her on his knee. Her life has simply consisted of cold serum in her veins, of blood in her nails and a knife in her hands, of the harsh voices of doctors telling her when or when not to kill.

The girl is alone, in pain, and she is scared.

They call her indestructible. Out of every child in her so-named program, she was the only one to survive. Most days, she wishes she hadn't.

Today, she wishes it more than ever. They have locked her up again, the way they do when they want to make her beg for food and shriek until they take pity on her. When she isn't killing, she is simply a form of entertainment for HYDRA, a curiosity in a circus that they can stare at until they get bored. Sometimes, they like to tease her. They provide her with toys and then snatch them away, force her to work until she wets herself, sit kittens down in front of her and tell her to kill them.

A pretty little puppet with desperately twisted strings.

The little girl aches.

Her head is throbbing, her bladder is full and her stomach is cavernously empty. She tries to recall the last thing she ate. Bread, maybe? The doctors like to test how long she can go without food. She won't die, of course, because they made her that way, but it's all about seeing how close she can get to it.

Slipping right to the brink of death before the serum pulls her back again.

If only their medicine could stop her from feeling pain, too.