⌜ 速度 ⌟ •° transcendent | p.maximoff

•eleven•

Right as I made it out of the room Afflon stopped to ask me. "What were you talking about?" He thundered.

"I was trying to get him to trust me. I'm very sleepy Felix." Was all I responded to when he just let me blatantly go past, usually Afflon would drag me by my hair or punch me in my stomach to spill answers out my mouth but today, he just let me walk past.

I got into the elevator almost half asleep my fingers aching to press on the button that read 25 but I sheepishly managed to.

I walked passed the plain corridor with a bunch of abstract paintings that were hung symmetrically, I passed three rooms entering the largest one which was mine.

I made my way into the burgundy painted mini apartment that consisted of the largest room which was my training room, a bedroom, a kitchen and a toilet.

I planned to skip my relaxing shower today even though I usually only took showers at night but today I know my body fall asleep in the tub.

I was welcomed by my king size bed, swiftly taking me jeans off, slipping into another shirt I placed my uniform in the 'dirty' pile, cautiously the weapons were placed inside ye wardrobe.

I slipped into bed, hugging the white blanket ready for a deep sleep when I was interrupted by running thoughts that sprinted through my brain.

I was concerned about Bucky and if he was following my instructions, I was concerned about the risk of Wanda, Pietro and I pulling this off.

I started to wonder how our lives would be like if we do succeed, what next?

I've always pondered about who my real parents are, how I got to ARAE in the first place, if I ever do get out of ARAE that's what I'll do first, find my biological parents.

My lack of emotions never seemed to bother me yet I always imagined how different my existence would be if I had them, my heart feels like it's made out of stone, I have no value for someones life, one part of my heart knows that's wrong but my brain takes over my heart.

I've always been conscious of the frequent crusade between my brain and heart, which frequently ended with my head winning the bloodshed.

I lied, to almost everyone for the majority of my life it seems like now I can never be capable of telling the truth, living in ARAE headquarters for the past seventeen years you'd expect a person to gain faith and trust in someone.

I lied about Bucky being free on the streets on New York, I lied about all those fifty agents dying in battle, I lied about how I would always work with ARAE, I lied about everything until today.

I killed off the remaining thirty agents, all so ARAE would lack man power for my escape. I never held back by the thought of them all having families and loved ones to get back to.

Pietro was the only person I've ever had such a long conversation with whom I sparked out all the right facts, without fooling his mind with fake stories.

My body found the gesture of trusting someone very hard to express. The people I know here are meant to be my family. 'This is your home, you belong here.' Is what they all tell me but how is it my home when they torture me, experiment on me, try to rape me. That is not 'home' that is anything else but home.

I may never know how it feels to love someone, know what they need, what they want from me but that's okay. I'm fine with not being okay, it was a part of my daily routine and nothing less.

Although it never stopped myself from wondering how it really does feel to always have someone beside you, with you through your ups and downs, loosing together, winning together.

Wanda and Pietro, Bucky and Steve I habitually imagined on how Steve would react if he saw Bucky alive today, the smile on his face, tears of happiness that would stream down his cheeks, the throbbing of his heart, the spark that would emit in his irises.

As for Bucky, he wouldn't have a single clue about the man he spent his whole life with. Emotionless to the other guys ecstasy, Bucky would just stand there bewildered on why a random guy on the street was acting as if he actually knew him.

Bucky's memory is like a prised possession for Steve, if I can't be happy why shouldn't anyone else. I will get out of ARAE and add another thing on this bucket list of mine: To bring back Bucky's memory and reunite him with the man he deserves to be with.

I'm going to meet Bucky tomorrow and fill him up with every little detail of his past.

Felix Afflon won't make my future, I will. These missions he sends me on to HYDRA bases is just a distraction for them.

If HYDRA is too busy fixing what's been broken a new generation of evil would rise, ARAE would rise.

When HYDRA is too busy searching for three of their lost experiments what could possibly stop ARAE, what made Afflon do this I may never know but what I do know is that I have a shot at stopping this.

I don't want to tear apart the avengers, and even if Afflon has any kind of personal friction between himself and the worlds mightiest hero's that's his problem not mine. I won't be his puppet girl any longer.

The only thing I'm deeply petrified of is our tech team, they managed to hack into different prototypes of Stark Tech and disable most of their functions never once leaving behind any traces.

Afflon' intentions were to make me the female version of Barnes but he knew that wouldn't be enough to make me a weapon, every single day for the past fourteen years all I've ever known were experiments and training, lab suits and screaming, killing and dissecting.

As messed up as it would sound I love what I do, over the past years I've grown to embrace my acts of violence. It's what makes me, me. I wouldn't know much about myself without annihilation, I would never be as 'fine' as I ever am.

I know my personality changes whenever I engage in combat people usually spit the words 'Psycho' and 'Devils making' at me stating the fact that I'd never hesitate to carry out some of the most gruesome acts.

Afflon always maunder on about how well my works on the battle field are, usually also giving me full detail descriptions of how I either showed no remorse while slicing someone's head off clean and leaving it at their families doorstep or how my fingers gauged out the victims eyes and stuffed them onto their tongue, forcing the person to take a bite.

He'd never stop telling me the story of how I killed my first victim who was a big built wrestler only when I was at the age of nine with my bare fists.

I don't know if I'm good or bad, I dont know if I'm the hero or the villain. I don't know if I will ever find out who or what I really am.

I can never take back what I've ever done. I can never change the person I am inside. I can never make up for the crimes I've committed throughout my barbaric life, but one thing I did have, was the choice, I always had the choice and that's just what I've realised today.