Promise to Remember Me

Living for Love

My comrade drives us to the head quarters. Quickly. But inconspicuous.

We arrive at an abandoned building. Tattered. Broken. Rusted. Almost perfect to hide an underground prison.

Several guards lead us to a cell. Passing through metal entrances several inches thick. Elevators. Then we finally arrive.

A metal box with a drain. A table. A chair. A door with locks. A small window for air. A prison cell to drive you insane.

No cameras though. Hydra didn't even think of watching the low. Didn't think they would do anything.

"Why are we here?" She catechizes. I walk in after her. They close the door. Locking it with clicks, ticks, and clanks.

My blue eyes roam around the room. Inspecting the cleanse. Eventually my eyes land on her back.

"Sit." I demand. My eyes almost covered in cascades of my brown hair.

I watch her screech out the chair and lazily sit on the seat. She stares at the pencil and paper laid on the table.

"They want me to write it? I remember much better when I'm there in person." She glares at me. I clench my fingers into fists then release them.

She's declaring her life.

If she wasn't going to write it down, then I'll just have to force it out of her lips.

I walk over to her. The belts of my uniform clicking with every step I take. I extend my arm and I grasp a handful of her hair.

She flinches. But nothing dramatic. It was like she wants me to continue.

I lean down until my lips are against her ear, "Write down all the information you know. Then they'll let you go." I had to lie. That's what they demanded to do. If I hadn't, I would be punished.

She doesn't move her hands. She doesn't even move a muscle.

I raise her from the chair. With her hair gripped tightly in my palm, I slam her against the metal wall. Earning a bang from her body's contact with the metal box.

She gasps in pain. A hiss escapes her teeth.

But she smiles as she finally lifts her chin to meet my face, "They ordered you to kill me, didn't they? After I give them the information." She almost laughs. A mock as if to say I'll never do it.

My eyes rage. Before I know it my hand is wrapped around her throat. As if I were fighting for my life. My grip tightens.

She's rendered to a gasping menace, "Must have been hard-" she gasps again, "having your memory erased again...following orders as if they are the only link between the actual you and your memories...."

I loosen my grip just a fraction. Enough to let a smallest cloud of air seep through her throat into her lungs.

"Your mind almost pure white," Her hands wrap around my wrists, fighting, "that only faded memories are left..." She gasps for more oxygen. Body begging for it.

How did she know?

What does she know?

I release her. Wanting to hear more.

Her coughing for oxygen and gasps to fill her lungs thickens the tension in the room.

"I-" she coughs again, "I know what they-they did to you. I was there through all of it..." She clenches her stomach and scratches he's her throat. Ridding of the itch in her esophagus.

I stare down at her. Her quivering being beneath me.

What does she know?

I raise my foot to kick her.