The Winter Wraith (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter 2 - Golden Cage

Silence.

It's funny how you only notice the noise when it's gone.

There's no one yelling at you, no one berating or scolding you. But for the first time in forever, you wish there was.

As you crack your eyes open, they feel heavier than normal. You must have been crying, but why? The last thing you remember was having another argument with the snake before-

Oh. Before the men in the masks.

Your surroundings are dim, a flickering light from a lone candle in the corner of the room providing your only light. You've been lying on what appears to be some sought of concrete ground. Whatever it is, the walls and roof are made of the same material. The only difference to this structure, and perhaps your only clue to where you are, is the fourth wall. By wall, you mean door. And by door, you mean thick metal bars blocking the opening head-to-toe with a keyhole set into one of them. You look down at yourself and see that you are wearing a plain white hospital gown, shivering as you wonder who changed your clothes.

Your muscles ache from the cramped position you slept in, but you pull yourself to your feet as another, stronger light flickers just out of your view.

A man, accompanied by four guards, walks in front of your cage. You wonder why he needs so many guards to protect him from you, but chalk it up to being a display of power. He has small glasses perched on his nose and a small tuft of white hair that seems to only grow above his ears. He's rather short, just reaching his guards' shoulders, and his beady eyes remind you of a hungry rat.

"Ich bin Dr. Albracht und Sie-" At your blank looks he breathes a long suffering sigh and begins again. "I am Dr Albracht and you are Subject 307841."

Swallowing your fear, you're rather proud of how steady your voice sounds when you say, "I think you've made a mistake, sir, my name is-" Your mouth fills with the bitter tang of blood as his hand cracks across your cheek.

You feel tears well up in your eyes from the pain, but refuse to let them fall.

"As I said, you are Subject 307841." He wipes his hand on his black vest, as if disgusted to have made contact with you. "And you have been blessed, for Hydra has chosen you as our newest... recruit." He makes the word 'recruit' sound more like 'sacrifice'.

"But, who is Hydra?" And why am I here? You don't ask the last question because deep inside, you already know the answer; Mr Bennett made the wrong gamble with the wrong man and you have to pay for it.

"Who is Hydra?" His gasp is almost comical. "We are the light that will illuminate the world. We are the scythe that will cut down the nonbelievers. We, my dear, are going to lead this world to a new age of leadership."

Your next words are a whisper. "How?"

"With people like you, of course. But all this talk will get us nowhere.  Come along now, if you will."

Despite the fact that he poses this as a question, you soon realise you have no choice as your door is unlocked and you are shoved down turning, twisting hallways all as dark as your room before coming to a stop. This room is incongruous with what you've seen of the building so far.

It is a white room with one chair in the middle of it. Next to the chair is a small table laden with tools and syringes of all sorts. You struggle to keep down your bile as you come closer to the chair, it is covered in old brown stains that can only be one thing: blood.

Deciding you have nothing left to lose, you bring your elbow up to smash your guards nose. You feel your hit connect and the guard's grip loosens, your break away and turn to run when you feel something cold and smooth placed against your temple.

"Nein, Subject 307841. Don't make me use this. Now, be a good girl and sit in the chair," his nasally voice breathes into your ear.

The moment you sit down on the metal chair, the guards click into place metal cuffs on your wrists, ankles, neck and over your chest. Your (s/c) skin reflects onto the chair, making you feel as if you will stay on this chair until it grows into a part of you.

A man in a white surgical mask stalks towards you and selects a syringe from the table as one might select a pastry from the bakery. The liquid is bright blue, emitting an otherworldly glow, and you let out a smaller whimper, much to your chagrin, as the needle is jabbed under your skin. You are all too aware as the liquid seeps into your veins.

Perhaps you shouldn't have done it, but you figured it was worth a shot. As the man's arm case too close to your face, you snapped out at him with your teeth. He let out a strangled yowl as he yanked his arm away. "Stupid bitch!"

You expect another slap, but he only gives you a slow smile. Never breaking eye-contact with you, he slowly reaches back to the table, discarding the now-empty syringe. What you thought were building tools of some sought - maybe for undoing your cuffs - you soon learn have another purpose. Pain explodes behind your eyes as he takes a knife and slices a deep cut along your thigh. Your breath comes in short, sharp bursts as you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to ignore the pain.

"Oh no, Subject 307841, I love to see the pain in your eyes. Come on, open them up for me. Or I can always do it myself with this knife." Your blink open your (e/c) eyes, hating the tears that streak down your face. You see your ruby blood seeping into your hospital gown from the thick slice. "Try anything like that again, and we'll see what happens." His pasty, pale skin makes his black-ish brown eyes all the more dark and menacing.

And so this continues.

Injection after injection, needle after needle, until you can hardly feel your arms and you feel as if you have a thousand different liquids coursing inside you. And for what? What are they hoping to accomplish?

You glare at the guards when they come to free you from the chair to return you to your other prison, and this time you give it everything you have. The moment the last cuff is undone, you lunge at the nearest guard. He seems shocked at the speed of your movement, and truth be told you didn't know you could move this fast either. As your fist connects with his temple, he crumples to the ground. The next guard is behind you and wraps his arms around your back to pin your arms, but you use him to steady you as lift up your legs to kick another guard in the stomach before headbutting the guard holding you.

You move with speed and desperation, but your movements are sloppy and you have no tactic. Your desperate rebellion lasts all of minutes before you are outmatched. But you don't stop. Neither do your guards. A fist connect with your stomach, another barrelling into your gut. You double over only to have a knee smash your face. The blows keep coming and in the end it's all you can do to curl on floor and beg for it to stop, but all you see is the unforgiving stare of Dr Albracht as he sanctions this beating.

Your vision blurs as you are roughly tugged out of the room and back to your prison. You try to stumble along but your feet keep dragging and you can barely keep up.

Falling to your knees, your (h/c) (h/l) hair matted with blood, tears escape your eyes as you lay down on the hard concrete. What have you gotten into? And how do you get out?

As your consciousness begins to flee, you vaguely register that the light of the ever-burning candle paints the metal bars in a golden hue. As if saying no, this is not juts a prison. This is a golden cage and you are their songbird, so get ready to sing.

A/n
The word count went up for this chapter! What are you guys thinking so far? Any suggestions or guesses for what you think is gonna happen? Next chapter should be up very soon.
Harley J. xx