The Unholy Gift of the Serum (On Hold)

The Hit

It's been nearly a year since we took down the Red Room. Since Dreykov is officially dead and any traces of both the Black Widow and Winter Soldier programs were gone. Well, except the people that live on to be able to tell the tale. You see, ever since Dreykov died and there was no more Red Room, people still wanted the mind control, the power along with it. So some, tried to hunt down any Black Widow or Winter Soldier 'experiments' for another round of tests. See what was different in the chemicals of their brains. To see if they could somehow recreate it. That's happened in history before with the serum and look how that went. Bruce Banner is a walking reminder of just how bad it can go.

Because of everything that happened, I have been keeping a low profile. Staying out of trouble, hiding in plain sight. I also changed my appearance. My hair, that was once long, straight and all over the place, I cut it now. It's now shorter, with a side parting and curtain bangs. (Like Timothee Cha-la-ma-la-bing-bong). While yes, changing your hair isn't a drastic thing really, it does have the ability to throw off facial recognition software as any pictures of me in history, I've had long hair.

With all this time I've had to myself, I thought about the file Dreykov gave me. How did he get it? Some of those paper files he had dated back to be before he was even born. What I am shocked about the most though, is how I don't remember. How I lived a life once. A normal one. With a brother. Maybe even a friend. Parents. All those cherished memories I would have had, peeled out of my mind. The only memories left I have left are horrors. Murder. Sadness. Grief.

Guilt.

All because of men like Dreykov. Men who are driven by greed. Men with regimes. There's a saying that I can remember from Hydra, 'power, does not come to those who are born strongest, but to those that will do anything to achieve it'. That is why Dreykov was never seen as a threat. But looks, can be deceiving.

Right now, I'm living in an apartment in New York. I mean, it's okay. It's a bit loud. People shout a lot. There's always people worshiping the Avengers, pictures of them plastered everywhere. Like they're some sort of heroes. And some of those heroes have killed thousands of lives. The accords only proved that.

Since living in New York is pricey to live in compared to Budapest, I've started to do some hits for money. You know, bounty hunting, paid killing, things like that to keep up with rent. If Hydra trained me like this might as well make a living out of it.

That's where I am right now. I've been contracted to eliminate a target. His name, Joseph Hammerhead, a Maggia don I was hired to kill. I'm in position on a roof top, waiting with my sniper to take the guy out as soon as he arrives. This guy sells on the black market. I went on and found him and I set up a buy to lure him to me.

I don't know or understand why a hit was ordered on this man, nor do I care, but I did hear that he was nearly caught when he attacked one of the Maggia family's in their own home, but he slipped away before they could make the arrest and a lot of people ended up getting hurt. Some even died.

I'm brought out of my thought when his car comes around the corner, a few men in the back off the car. They all step out, but none of them were my guy. I lower my sniper, being confused as to why he wouldn't show up to the meet. I stand up, heading over to the fire escape but leaving my sniper on the roof. I climb down the fire escape, going towards the four men that got out of the car.

" Where's your boss?" I scare them, making them all spin around to look at me.

" He had some more important things to deal with." One of them grits.

" Well, you're not getting any money until I deal with your boss." I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

One of them laughs at me, then the others join in, them hunching over with laughter at this stage.