9. The Calm before the Storm

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How many times have I gone on a mission before? I asked myself as I sat in my bed, trying to get the beauty sleep I needed for the big day tomorrow.

It must be at least 50 times. Maybe 75.

Madam B liked to give me missions as a 'reward' for my hard work at the academy. To be able to get out of that hellhole for a couple of days was wonderful, and I jumped at the chance. Even though I had to either assassinate someone or receive illegal goods, the pleasure of walking outside made it worth it. Even though I was forced to murder innocent (or not so innocent) people, it was my release. To be about to get out of the Academy and let go of all that pent up fury was my own sick way of dealing with the Red Room.

Now that I was free, the Red Room seemed like a distant memory.

Now that I took a step back and saw my actions for what they were... I couldn't stand it.

I must have been so desperate for a chance to get out of the Red Room that I would have done anything. That I would have slit my own throat for a shot at freedom.

And now that I took a step back...

It wasn't worth it.

Not all the killing and stealing. Not anything. Because Madam B knew that I wanted freedom, and she never would have given it to me anyways. I would always want to get out of that place, and for the entire time that I was there, no matter how many murders I committed.

Now, I don't know what possessed me to commit those heinous crimes.

And to think that I enjoyed it...

No. I enjoyed killing the right people. Killing the people who deserved every bit of what they got. The people who were only going to be a burden to the world. I guess, after a while, I couldn't differentiate between the innocent and the guilty. I didn't enjoy killing the innocents. The people who cowered and screamed ...

I stood up, and walked out of my room. My mind was on autopilot.

I walked down the halls,through every walkway I could. I had to burn off whatever steam I had left.

I walked past the training room and the gym, the kitchen, the labs, the conference room. I saw Tony working in a lab and crept past, careful not to alert him of my presence.

As I got further down the building, my mind quietened as my footsteps wandered.

One floor was different than the others. The entire space had no windows to speak of, but housed the most complicated security system I had ever seen.

The floor was like an amphitheatre, large and round, tiers arranged in a steep slope, so that it was easy to see the prisoner, and easier to overpower him if he escaped. He was in a cylindrical glass prison at the bottom of the amphitheatre, with only one hard bench to sit on.

It was Loki, in all his glory, still having his green and gold uniform on. He stood tall, with a purpose, acting like everyone was below him.

Nick Fury stood on the very outside of the amphitheatre with a checklist and a group of soldiers, who looked ready to start their shift to guard Loki. Fury walked outside of the circle of guards, and they spread out across the floor.

" Bulletproof glass. Round the clock guards and cameras, and a force field that makes the prison resistant to any type of Asgardian magic. Thor was able to incorporate that"

" How long are you planning to keep him in there?" I asked, curious.

" As long as we need to." Fury said, glancing at Loki. " The public wouldn't be comfortable with him being let loose just a few months after the Chitauri invasion"

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