♤Magical Entertainment♤《 Loki X OC 》

Chapter 14 ~ A flash in time

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Recap:

"Enjoy the show." She closed her eyes and lowered her head, her left palm turned up, and the image began to move

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She woke up groggily. The lessons yesterday had been hell, even more so than usual. Her back felt like it was on fire, and her arms and legs were no different. Blood had pooled on the floor around her, matting her hair and sticking to her legs. Someone pounded on the door. Peitho sighed.

"Awake," the mutant called, her voice raspy and hoarse to the point of almost nonexistent. The heavy door swung up, and three men entered the cell. Why were there three of them? Her handler came up to her and knelt. He put a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. Her whole body protested at the tiny movement.

"Good morning, minx. Let's get you ready. It's a big day today." He nodded to the two other men. They went around her and unshackled her from her chains, letting her arms fall to the ground so she could sit up straight. With handcuffs on her wrists, the two unknown men pulled her off the ground, and with her handler at the head, they began marching down the dark and bare hallways. First, they took her to a prep room and got to work getting the blood out of her hair and off her body to make her look presentable. Ten minutes later, they entered the matron's office. Nobody did anything in this place without going to her office first. Peitho sank to her knees as the matron stood.

"Peitho, today is an important day for the Palace and we are going to have some equally important guests. I expect you to be on your best behavior, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good girl, now let's not keep them waiting," she ordered and marched out of the room. Peitho was hauled to her feet again and dragged along. They walked for what seemed like an eternity before they arrived at a closed steel door with two heavily armed guards that opened it for them. The room inside was spacious and dark. There was not much furniture, only a pitiful cot in the middle with around fifty guards, scientists, and superiors standing around it. Peitho was led forward and placed down on the bed. Her hands and feet were fastened with chains to sturdy hooks in the concrete below. There she sat for some time before the door opened once more, and an entourage of five people entered the room with a white, blond man in his fifties at the front. The man shook hands with the Matron, and they began discussing something she couldn't make out. Peitho looked over to the other people that had entered the cell. One man caught her eye. He was tall with broad shoulders and a stiff posture. Brown, ragged hair fell over a pair of blue eyes with a blank but calculating look that swept over the room. A black mask covered most of his face, but what caught her attention was his left arm. He stood in the shadows, so she couldn't make out any details, but it seemed to gleam slightly, and she swore she saw a big red star on his shoulder. What were they all doing here anyway? She had drawn some conclusions before but wasn't so sure anymore. The man's handler and the Matron's discussion finally ended, and they called everyone's attention to them. "Today will be a revolutionary day for HYDRA. Today, we hope to create the greatest weapon mankind has ever seen. Winter Soldier." The man turned his attention towards the masked man, who looked up at the blond.

"Ready to comply." The Winter Soldier, as they called him, answered with a voice that sounded unused. Peitho shivered at the sound of it. Then she realized what the blond man had said. "Today, we hope to create the greatest weapon mankind has ever seen." Why did that involve her laying on a bed with her legs spread? Then her brain connected the dots. Oh no, it can't be. Please don't be what I think it is. The blond man then turned to the Matron and held out his hand, giving her the honor. She smirked. A sadistic glint that was ever-present in her eyes sparkled when she locked eyes with Peitho. She walked up to the chained mutant and cupped her face with one hand, squishing her cheeks. The proud woman bent forward.