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"My parents wanted me to live," the girl spit out bitterly. "To live, not to survive."
A child, a girl who was taken from her life, her past. Abused and forced by Hydra to do wrong, to sin.
When she becomes free of their grasp and tries to sta...
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He had a large smirk on his face. He was in a good mood today, and nothing was going to change it. In the dark room he called his 'office', the man sat on his chair with a glass of gin in hand, staring at the other side of the wall where a large TV set stood, the screen giving him a good view of the 'girl', those beautiful silver eyes fixed onto the table in front of her, twiddling with a scrap of the navy blue prisoner's wear adorning her body, blinking at the flashes of cameras around her.
Terrified.
Oh, how wonderful was that.
When should he take her? He had been waiting for this moment for a very long time, working hours to make this moment that he'd dreamed in his head come true in front of his eyes. Waiting for her death trial, waiting for the right moment to seize her away. The death trial was just a show. A show to prove that the girl's soul was no longer there. In truth, she'd be seized away in his hands, away from the light and freedom she had craved and begged for. He'd be able to wreck her, with nobody, nobody there to even think to save her. After all, by then, she would already be considered dead, wouldn't she.
She had some compensation to make for wrecking his whole life. He wanted her. Period. And he was going to wreck her all over just like she did to him. He'd use her to all uses he could think of.
He chuckled at the thought, when suddenly, his smile faded. The man scowled, as he held the empty glass in his hand up to the light, the golden brown liquid obscuring his sight as he squinted to see something.
A mark. The mark of SHIELD embroidering the bottom of the glass. The man cursed, his eyes dark and soaked in fury proof of the sudden fall of his good mood as he smashed the glass in his hand to the other side of the wall, above the TV. Standing up, the man stalked over to a glass cupboard filled with other glasses of his liking. The man cursed once more, as he opened the glass with a huff. He should've remembered the fact that objects printed with the logo of SHIELD were quite common, especially here, of all places.
The man bowed his head, pursing his lips, as he stroke a scar on his upper lip, one of many littering his whole face.
He was having difficulty on making a choice of what glass he would use. He had thousands of people in this building ready to serve his every move, yet nothing would help him with this decision. Finally, he touched a long slender one, pure and transparent with the tip of his fingers.
Just like her.
Snatching it out, he grabbed the half full bottle of gin and spilled the liquid into the glass, not even caring when it was full to the brim, sploshing onto his rough scarred hand and dribbling onto the dark floor, making a puddle reflecting a chilling smile that had begun to grow on his face.
