Second Sphere

Solace

Zemo, as it turns out, was not joking when he said he could help beyond just information. He had cars, planes, and various homes across the world I was permitted to stay at. Oeznik, Zemo's butler, became my point of contact between me and Zemo. I know the old man while unassuming in appearance, is actually keeping a close watch on me and observing everything.

Madripoor was my first stop and the city's filth would become a common sight. A lot of information floated around here and a lot of rats had made a nest here. Walking down the streets was enough for heads to turn. The shield for the winter soldier, minus one winter soldier. I couldn't bring myself to wear what Stark had designed for me but Zemo was one step ahead of me having Oeznik provide a new outfit. Black leather and tactical gear. The look reflected what Bucky wore, and that fact was not lost on me. There was even a face mask for the lower half of my face. I left this.

Stephen Wiley, an American operative for Hydra was sitting at a bar. No reason to be on guard, no reason to suspect I was coming. Walking up behind him I held the tip of my dagger against his back, shielding it from view of the other bar patrons with my wings.

"You and I are going to take a walk." I say lowly.

The man nods and I direct him out of the bar. The side alley has a few strays but none of them give us a second glance.

Stephen's voice shakes as he slowly turns around, "What do you want?"

"Tell me who you know from Hydra, tell me where they are." I drag the knife up until the point of the knife is at his throat.

"I-I don't know anyone." He stammers out.

"Strike one." I slam him against an alley wall and take his hand crushing the bones as I squeeze it.

He screams in pain but I ignore it. "Tell me what you know." The many years of hydra's training was easy to fall back into. There was a rhythm to it and I could let it take over.

"I don't know anyone, I never even worked for Hydra." Wiley clutches his broken hand to his chest. The lie is desperate but poorly executed.

I move the knife shoving it deep into his right shoulder. "Strike two. The next one kills you." I say.

"Okay! Okay! I'll tell you everything." The man cries out through his grunts of pain. He tells me a long list of names and locations for the ones he knows when he's done he begins to plead, "That's all I know. I swear that's it. Please don't do anything else."

I pull out the knife which makes him scream again. "You and I both know that's not how this works." I take the pistol from my hip and place it against his forehead and pull the trigger before walking away to start hunting down the next one.

Two years would pass like that. Each kill getting a little more violent as I was scratching off names from whatever list Zemo had. Each time it was easier, falling back into what Hydra taught me and not feeling anything. Relying on reflex and honing my skills as a killer, sharpening and improving on what Hydra had taught me. There was some twisted solace in it. Some warped satisfaction. The deeper I fell, the less of the sense of longing I felt. I lied to myself, saying each kill was justice, that I was making the world safer if not better.