Winter Is Coming (A Bucky Barnes Fanfic)

Prologue

"As soon go kindle the fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words." -Shakespeare

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December 8th, 1909

Blast! The steam bed behind Doctor Soros erupted with hot air, making the man jump with fear and causing his glasses to become askew. He was on a mission. He was conducting an experiment that involved molten lava, and that was what he was leaving with--no exceptions.

Straightening his hat and glasses and stumbling away from the steam bed, Soros continued his quest. He was determined; all he needed was a beaker of the hottest lava he could find; then, he was out of there.

Spotting a gushing rock nearby, Soros trotted over to it and examined it carefully. This particular flow was surprisingly bright for lava. The color was a bit off, more of a blood color than orange and red. Soros was an inquisitive man, as most scientist are, and decided to take a sample of this foreign magma.

Grabbing his flask and retracting device, he carefully picked up the lava, popping open the lid of the flask with his thumb as he did. The liquid was just that--liquid. It was the consistency of blood just like its color, and for a moment Soros thought it was blood. Upon closer inspection inside of the flask, he discovered it was certainly not blood, as there were specks of yellow and orange throughout the liquid.

Hiding his prize inside the pocket of his special heat suit with a triumphant grin, Soros stood up to continue his search for real lava. Not saying that what he found wasn't actual lava, it's just that he just wanted another sample in case he messed up his experiment (which tended to happen a lot).

He hadn't even take one step when he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun click. Turning around cautiously, he put his hands up and edged away, his eyes as wide as saucers. There were two gunman, both armed, pointing their weapons right at him.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" Soros asked politely.

"We need that flask of liquid," the shorter one said. "Hand it over."

"I'm afraid that it is mine," Soros stated firmly. "If you wish for some, there is more right in that crack." He gestured to the previously gushing rock, but now nothing flowed out of the crevice. He looked back up and gulped.

"Either come with us or get shot where you stand." The taller man pointed the gun upward and shot above Soros' head to show his seriousness. "We don't intend to take it from you. We need the liquid and the one who retrieved it."

"Well, alright." Soros gave in and followed the men back to their transportation, telling himself they just worked for the government or something and trying to see his situation as a promotion of some sort. There was no doubt that he was scared--terrified, actually-of what was going to become of him.

They rode in silence all the way there; Soros had no clue where he was headed or what was to happen to him, and each mile was another possibility. The vehicle stopped, and Soros was blindfolded as they stepped out of the car. He felt the tip of a gun in his back.

Metal replaced the concrete beneath his feet, and after a flight of stairs and several twists and turns he couldn't keep up with, he was forced into a chair. The blindfold was removed, and Soros took in his surroundings. Definitely technologically advanced. That's all he needed to think.

"Hello sir," said an important looking man in an expensive suit. "You have something I want."

Soros fingered the flask in his pocket before taking it out slowly. The man swiped it from him so fast, it made Soros cringe.

"Perfect. Do you know what this is?" Soros shook his head after his voice failed to say no. "This is not lava or magma. This is the hottest substance in the world, found only where you found it. Some say it came from Earth's very core."

"What do you want me for?" Soros asked, his voice returning suddenly and unexpectedly. He hoped the man could understand his thick accent.

"You are going to transform it for me," the man said.

"Into what?"

"Into a serum that can be injected into humans," he said seriously. "I want a race of super soldiers, and that is what you're giving me. I don't care how long it takes." He threw the flask back at Soros and stalked away, snapping his fingers once. Soros didn't have the confidence to ask how it could make someone a super soldier.

Guards appeared and lifted him off the chair. They lead him to a very nice lab, one much fancier than his one at home. He was instantly mesmerized by the gadgets and gizmos that surrounded him--they looked like they belonged in his wildest dreams.

"Get to work," one of the guards growled, standing watch at the door.

Soros rubbed his hands together, grinning at the emblem of a red skull with tentacles painted on the opposite wall. "Gladly."