The Winter Warrior // Captain America

«Chapter 7»

A N N A ' S   P O V

Pain...

Cold...

Dark...

Bright...

Unconcious...

Conscious...

What I assumed to be the end of my life, wasn't what I thought it would be. I had been in the snow for what felt like years. I couldn't move and everything hurt. A stinging pain came from my left arm and it was as if my fingers weren't even attached to my hand anymore. I couldn't hear or see anything and for a moment, I thought I had died and this was some kind of cruel afterlife. But after a while, my sight and hearing came back. I still couldn't move, though. All I could do was stare at the sky above me and listen to the howling of the wind. Night soon fell and slowly but surely, I could move my right hand again. I tried pushing myself up but failed miserably, only making my agonising pain worse. 

In the distance, I heard voices. I turned my head to the left and spotted two men approaching me. One looked me over and felt my pulse. He said something in German and I was beyond relieved to have been found, but the other man landed his boot in my face and darkness consumed me again. 

***

"Hello, sunshine," a voice said next to my head. My consciousness slowly came back but I had trouble remembering what had happened. Or where I was. My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. "C'mon, open your eyes."  I slowly peeled my eyelids open and was met with a bright, white lamp standing over me. I had to keep my eyes scrunched to see something. 

"Wh- Where..." I croaked, but my voice didn't feel like my own.

"You're safe, don't worry," the voice spoke. 

I was finally able to open my eyes completely.  I looked around the room and saw five people in long, white coats scurrying around, writing things in notebooks. A machine stood to my right, beeping every few seconds. It was only then that I realized I was strapped to chair. 

"What am I doing here?" I asked the person next to me. It was a small, ratlike man that reminded me of someone, but I couldn't remember his name.

"We rescued you after you fell from the train. We have big plans for you, Miss Rogers," the man said, a German accent heavily lacing his words. 

"Who are you?" 

"My name is Doctor Arnim Zola," he said. Right, Zola. How did I know him?

I looked at the doctor warily, recalling he said he had big plans for me. "What are you going to do to me?" 

"You will find out soon enough," he said and he took a syringe out of his coat. 

"What is-"Before I could finish my sentence, he jammed the syringe in my arm and I was knocked out cold. 

I woke up again, but only to burst out into pained screams. A handsaw was cutting my entire left arm off. The pain was so excruciating that I fell unconscious again.

The last time I woke up, the entire world was blurry. I could barely remember anything, but my arm being cut off was hard to forget. I groggily turned my head to the left, but only to see a metal arm in the place of my flesh one. I released a breath, terrified by the appearance of my new limb. 

A young man looked up from his work. "Sir, she is awake," he said. His voice sounded as if it were miles away and I shook my head, trying to focus my sight and hearing. Zola hurried into the room and scanned me over, his eyes lingering on where the metal of the arm met my shoulder.

"Brilliant," he muttered. My metal hand shot out and clasped around his throat. I squeezed as hard as I possibly could, but the hand didn't obey me completely. 

"What have you done?" I said through gritted teeth, tears pooling my eyes. The doctor let out a few choking gasps before two other doctors yanked my shoulders and shoved me back into the chair I was in. I yelped at the stinging pain in my shoulder as it hit the back of the chair.

Zola let out a couple of raspy coughs and I already saw the bruising around his throat. He motioned at two other men in the room. I didn't miss the lingering stare I got from the boy seated in the corner, a red notebook in his lap. "Get started," Zola ordered and the man to my right pressed a button. 

The next moment, three metal straps closed around my arms, two around the metal one. "What's this?" I demanded, but no one answered. I watched how a metal contraption came towards my face. The second it touched my skin, a piercing pain shot through my skull.

***

"Winter, wake up," I heard someone say. My head was pounding and I had trouble remembering what happened. I lifted my head slightly and discovered I was in a cell. I saw a young boy sitting on my left.

"Wh-what happened?" I asked as I brought a hand to my head, hoping to dull the pain. 

"Here," the boy said and he handed me a cold cloth. I reached out my left hand before immediately retracting it and using my right hand instead. I placed the cloth on my forehead and the throbbing pain subsided slightly. 

I spoke up after a few minutes, "What did you call me?"

"I don't know your name, but everyone here calls you The Winter Warrior, so I thought I'd call you Winter to make it easier to talk to you," the boy explained.

My name... What is my name? 

I fought to remember, but no matter how deep I dug into my mind, I couldn't find my own identity. I remembered two men, one of them was my brother, the other my best friend. But their names were only distant memories. 

"Who are you?" I asked then. 

"My name is James," he said. 

I narrowed my eyes at him. "How old are you, James?"  

He hesitated for a moment before answering, "I'm seventeen." 

"Do you know how old I am?" I asked. I couldn't even remember my own age. 

"I don't know for sure, but you look like you're in your early twenties," he said. I nodded slowly. 

I closed my eyes and rested my head back against the wall. "How long have I been here?" I questioned, more to myself than to James. 

"About three months." 

"Three months?!"