Demons | Bucky Barnes

nine

The steady, quiet dripping eventually wakes me up.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

It's cold, and dark, and my brain feels fuzzy. I don't remember how I got in a place that's cold and all black and smells of sewer. I don't remember.

Where the hell-

A noise. I woke up to a noise. Then I looked around and-

No

When my eyes finally adjust to the darkness, I stand up and look around. I can't see much because it's so dark still, so I stand up and walk around, trying to feel my way around whatever I'm being held captive in. I finally notice my piercing headache too.

With my hands out in front of me, I feel my way around and immediately find out how small this thing is when my shins slam into a hard concrete thing. I reach down and notice that it's probably supposed to be a bed of some sort. I continue to walk around, trying to ignore my hurting shins. There's really not much to this place. Just coldness and wetness and darkness... and a concrete bed

I hear the sound of something large turning and before I know it, light is flooding my eyes and I'm squinting. Through my slits, I see a man in uniform black. He looks me up and down and then steps closer and grabs my arm.

Pulling me out of my cage roughly, he drags me down corridors upon corridors.

"Um excuse me, this is America! I have . . . er . . . rights!"

"Du bist nicht im Amerika."

I recognize the German. You are not in America.

Just as I am about to speak my thoughts on the matter, I am brought into a room with a single swinging ceiling light.

The man pushes me further into the room and leaves, locking the door behind him.

I look around to see a table in the middle of the room. That's it, just a table.

"Hello, Quinn."

Maybe not just a table.

A man that I didn't see earlier steps out of the shadows and into the dim light. His English was impeccable although he spoke with a heavy German accent.

"Who the hell are you?" I spit.

He chuckles. "Helmut Zemo, at your service, ma'am," he says with a bow as he mockingly tips his fake hat.

"Where am I?" I say harshly.

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you that, you see, your only here for one reason and one reason only." He inspects his fingernails lazily, "I need the ex-assassin James Barnes." He smiles evilly. "I have it on good authority that he's formed quite an attachment to you."

"Why the hell would you need him?"

"We're not finished with him, Miss James."

"You're a bloody nut case, you are."

He pushes a button on the wall next to him and talks into what looks like a tiny microphone, "Ich bin fertig mit ihr, zu reden sie nehmen und setzen Sie sie zurück in ihre Zelle."

The door I entered from opens behind me and the uniformed man walks in again. He grabs my shoulders and yanks me back out.

I yell back to Zemo, "You son of a bitch! You will burn in hell for this!"

The door slams shut, and I am dragged back to my cell.