The Soldier's Luna (Bucky Barnes x OC)

Chapter 2

The cuffs around my wrists dug into my skin from my body being slumped over for so long. I would've fallen over if it wasn't for the cuffs holding me in place. My wrists were raw from my weak attempts of trying to break free. However, the medication was still in my body so I would remain dizzy and weak. I wasn't sure what medication they were giving me, but I hated every bit of it. They kept coming in every few hours to give me another dose of it.

When they wanted me to be more aware, they would cut back on the medication, but still make sure I was weak enough not to break free. I was more aware of my surroundings now, but I couldn't find the strength to stand because of the drug still going through my body and the abuse I received not too long ago.

I weakly reached up and grasped onto the chains so that I could find better support and stand. My legs buckled at the sensation, but I tried my best to remain strong. My body ached and it was hard for me to breathe. My stomach was deeply bruised with ugly shades of black, red, and green. A part of me believed that I might have broken a rib or two, but I knew that my body would heal. My body always healed faster than a normal person, but it wasn't fast enough. Then again, I was also angry that it wasn't slow enough either. Without the enhanced healing, I would've already been dead from all the torture they did to me so far.

The sound of the door opening made me squeeze my eyes shut. My heartbeat accelerated, and my breathing grew heavy, along with my anxiety. I bit my lip to reframe from crying, but a soft whimper escaped my lips. I didn't dare look up at the man who entered. From his heavy footsteps, the way the tension thickened, and my blood ran cold from fear, I knew who had come into my cell.

"No more," I whimpered. "No more, please."

The figure didn't move. He just stood there. Every second that passed, the more I feared what could happen. I questioned if I would get hit again by this masked man. A part of me wanted to hope that he would show me mercy and let me go. I begged for a moment like that to come, even prayed for it. Hesitantly, I tilted my head up until I met his cold eyes. At that moment, I wished I didn't look at him.

He pulled back his bionic fist and with all of his might, slammed it into my face.

I jolted awake the moment the punch in the dream happened. I covered my face with my hands, holding back my tears. I slid my hands down to my mouth as I tried to focus on controlling my breathing. My body was sticky with sweat, pieces of my hair were stuck to the sides of my face and some strands were stuck to my neck too. I moved my hair to the side, taking a deep breath.

"My name is Iliana Calinao," I whispered to myself. "My name is Iliana Calinao and they'll never hurt me again."

I got up from my couch. I tied my hair up in a ponytail, changed into workout clothes, and grabbed a sweater. I slipped on my hood, locked the front door to my apartment, and went outside the building to do my morning jog. I would normally run two blocks around my area to get my heart racing. Then, I would head back to the apartment to continue my workout routine. My routine wasn't that special. I would do a few sets of squats, sit-ups, jumping jacks, and push-ups. I would then finish off with jump roping for about ten or fifteen minutes. Once I was done with my workout, I took a shower and got ready for work. I changed into dark blue denim jeans, a black shirt with a crisscross design on the front, and my dark green anorak jacket, and paired it with black ankle boots. I walked to my car and headed off to work.

The café was modern and light. There were some hanging plants along the ceiling to give the café a pop of color. The light fixtures were chrome and sleek. The booths were white and had a light soft shade of green that cushioned the booths. The tables were a light gray that blended with the light fixtures. A soft blend of jazz and blues music played in the background. A few customers were sitting down either reading a book, talking to their friends, or on their laptops. It was a very peaceful job and I loved it.