Chapter Fourteen

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"GET YOUR HANDS THE FUCK OFF ME!" I shout, whipping my shoulders back, attempting to pull my arms out of their grips, flailing as they hold me off the ground. I decide then and there that if I'm going down, I'm going down fighting.

So I turn to one of the men. "Hey!" I snap at him. He turns to look at me and I slam my forehead into his nose. He drops me, grabbing his face. Now having my feet on the ground, I turn to the other man before he can process what I had done and ram my knee into his groin. He falls to the floor and I run for it.

"Fuck." I hiss, clutching at my ribs as I sprint down the halls, just trying to put distance between myself and wherever they wanted to take me. Even in my injured state, I'm pretty fast. Apparently, being chased by Nazis who want to experiment on you is good motivation.

Everything is going relatively well until I turn another corner and am met by a group of armed Hydra goons. Not like the men I'd met before, no— these men are wearing full battle armor. These are real soldiers. I'm almost flattered that they see me as this much of a threat.

"Fellas." I say, nodding at them and starting to walk backward before turning around and breaking into a sprint again, only to run directly into two very angry guards. I turn again but the soldiers have already closed in.

No getting out of this one.

I laugh as they cuff my wrists behind my back. "You do realize I didn't use my hands once? Is this actually Hydra's best? Pathetic, really."

"Walk." Says one of the soldiers in an emotionless tone, holding his gun to my chest.

"Alright!" I say, turning around and walking back the way I came, feeling defeated. The soldier buries his gun in my back.

We pass the room Bucky is in, and I find my lips saying a soft whisper. "I'll see you soon, I promise."

"Shut up." The man says, and I hear the metallic click of him cocking his gun. Needless to say, I shut my mouth.

Maybe a minute later, we stop in front of another door, and if I'm being perfectly honest, I've become quite resentful of doors at this point. One of my original guards nods at the soldiers, and they all turn in unison and go on their merry way while I am dragged into the room. Looking around, I see Zola standing by another operating table, identical to the ones in the room with Buck. He's cleaning something small and made of metal.

Ok, think...

I can't let them get me on that table. If I can keep myself from being strapped down...

Maybe I can still get out of this.

One man uncuffs me. The second my hands are free, I throw a punch up to his face, but he catches my hand. I loop my leg around his and pull him to the ground. I'm ready to run when the other one wraps his hand around my neck from behind me.

"Move and I will kill you where you stand." He says, right in my ear.

"No, you won't." I say, although I go perfectly still.

"Won't I?" He asks, tightening his grip.

I gasp for breath and squeak out an "Ok!"

"That's enough." Zola says, and the man lets go.

"On the table." The guard growls, clearly done with me.

I pause for a second, weighing my options. The only problem is I only have one option. To put it simply, I'm shit out of luck. So I reluctantly walk myself over to the table. Without missing a beat, the men are at my side, forcing me down. They strap down my arms and legs, seemingly not wanting to waste my moment of cooperation. Again a bright light is shone in my eyes. Now that the adrenaline has faded, the pain is coming back and my strength is all but gone.

Zola appears beside me. He's smiling at me, almost fondly. Yuck. "I would suggest you become accustomed to this setting now," He says. "You'll be in here often for the foreseeable future to have the serum administered. By the time we are done, you will be one of the most powerful weapons Hydra has at its command!" He says, grinning sickly.

"You're making me stronger? That's pretty stupid." I scoff.

"On the contrary, my wonderful lab rat," he says. "It would be impossibly foolish to give up the opportunity you have so graciously bestowed upon us. You see, your DNA holds the answer to a question many of us want answered."

"What the hell are you on about?" This man is out of his mind. My DNA sure as hell isn't anything special. Is it because I keep disarming the men they send to control me? Because I think that's more their fault than mine.

I receive no answer. I hear metal clicking on metal and immediately realize what it is. I've heard it countless times in my line of work. This mad scientist is preparing his instruments for surgery. I start to panic again, pulling at the restraints, when I see Zola above me, holding a syringe.

"Oh, don't you dare." I say going still, my voice cold.

He just laughs and sticks in my arm, emptying its bright blue contents. Right away I start to feel drowsy. The world moves slowly and it gets increasingly hard to move. As I feel myself drift from consciousness, I utter one final plea.

"Please... please stop," I say, to which I am met only with more laughter.

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