oblivion. ▷ captain america. [1] •••DISCONTINUED•••

PART TWO x ▷ transforming.

T E N

10. | transforming.
how cruel can humans be to other humans

genevieve.

•

MY WHOLE body aches. My limbs are stiff, and I can't move no matter how hard I try and no matter what I do. I almost pass out again after struggling so much, so I'm forced to give up and fall limp again. A ringing hums in my ears until it's replaced by a door swinging open and slamming shut. I peel my heavy eyelids open, lifting my hanging neck up to see who made all the commotion. I blink the bright light shining overhead of me away. Before my eyes can travel up towards where the noise come from, my eyes widen as they see myself.

My wrists are cuffed by intricate metal manacles that curl around my fingertips and almost halfway up my forearm. My legs are bound to the bottom of a sturdy chair, also wrapping metal around my limbs. Bandages make my torso stiff and force me to have appropriate posture, but so does the wound in my abdomen. Must've been cut during the—

The crash.

Where is Howard?

Who killed Richards and Walker?

What the hell happened?

A voice echoes through the large chamber, one that I've heard before. "She has awoken, sir."

My eyes dart up to meet the eyes of the scowling man that I saw after the helicopter crashed. His brown eyes stare off at a point near my left, fixated on a churning machine.

"I can see that, comrade," another familiar deep voice growls. A pair of footsteps come close to me, and my eyes meet another set of hazel ones. The man with the mustaches sneers, stepping to be only a few feet away from me. "Doctor," he greets in an accented English, "welcome to the Weapon X program. We would like to ask you about your association with—"

I spit at his mustached face.

He wipes it from his wrinkled skin, his scowl deepening. "Again, we would greatly appreciate your cooperation and information about—"

"I'm not telling you anything," I snarl. My voice is raspy and broken and dry, begging for water that it will not receive at the moment. "What did you do to the two scientists and the pilot of that copter?"

"It is not your place to question me, soldat!"

I jump at his outburst, my heart beating faster and faster. I better keep my mouth shut.

"I am going to ask you one last time — what do you know about Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes?" the commander questions me, leaning towards me with his bushy brows furrowing over his slitted eyes.

"Steve liked apple cake and Bucky used to take him to Coney Island," I reply with a sarcastic smirk.

"That is not useful. You know more, much more."

"They are both dead," I mutter.

He grins, clearly satisfied with my answer. He barks something in Russian out to the soldiers, sending them scrambling towards a hallway branching from the chamber I'm trapped in. "More," he demands me. "Tell me more."

"Steve's favorite color was blue."

"Importance, I need information of importance, soldat."

I gulp. "I thought that was important."

He loses it. He sidesteps over to a lever, jerking it down.