PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OLD.
[based on the Marvel Cinematic Universe]
This is the story of Forsaken, a skilled and trained assassin who works for Hydra until she is rescued by Shield. She tries to find her old memori...
The German agents ushered Alice and Bucky into a spacious room, their cages serving as unwelcome reminders of their captivity. Despite their confinement, Steve and Sam tried to sway Everett Ross, the Deputy Task Force Commander for the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre, to recognize Alice's allegiance as an Avenger, regardless of her refusal to sign the Accords.
As Sharon handed Sam the receipt for their gear, Sam's attention was drawn to the absurdity of the inventory listed within. "Bird costume? Come on," Sam remarked incredulously.
"I didn't write it," Sharon defended herself.
Sam's scepticism only deepened as he looked at the inventory even further, his disbelief evident. "54 knives? Where was Alice hiding 54 knives?" he queried, but his question remained unanswered, lost amidst the tumultuous atmosphere.
Meanwhile, Steve stared attentively at the security camera feed, observing Alice and Bucky undergoing evaluation by a psychiatrist. With the sound muted, Sharon intervened, activating the audio feed, and allowing Steve to finally hear the conversation unfolding within the confines of the room.
The psychiatrist's measured voice cut through the silence, his intentions supposedly benign as he tried to engage Alice and Bucky in conversation, their guarded demeanour betraying their suspicion.
Undeterred by their reticence, the psychiatrist pressed on, attempting to coax information from the silent pair. "I'm not here to judge you, I just want to ask you two a few questions. Do you know where you are, Alice?" he inquired, but received no response. Turning to Bucky, he posed the same question, "Do you know where you are, James?" only to be met with continued silence. "I can't help if you two don't talk to me."
With a resigned sigh, Bucky interjected, his voice tinged with weariness. "My name is Bucky," he stated firmly.
"Fine." The psychiatrist scribbled something down, his expression unreadable as he redirected his attention to the pair. "Tell me, Bucky and Alice," he continued, his tone curious yet mysterious, "You've seen a great deal, haven't you?"
Bucky's response was brief. "We don't wanna talk about it," he declared, his words laden with the weight of their shared experiences.
"You fear that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop," the psychiatrist's words hung heavy in the air, echoing the silent torment Alice and Bucky endured.
