Subject X (Winter Soldier X Reader)

1

I rose into consciousness, feeling cold metal beneath me confused me. I opened my eyes but all I saw was darkness. Given my past, I did not feel scared. The only thing that I felt was confusion. Confusion as to where I was and what kind of test I was being put through now. Interrogation? Patience? Sanity in silence? My senses were heightened, it felt like I could hear a pin drop if there had been one, but there wasn't. Not even the sound of an air filtering unit hummed overhead.
"What are you planning Dreykov?" I whispered into the deaf room.

"Dreykov isn't here for you anymore my darling, in fact he will never be."
A spotlight from above shown down on top of me, making my eyes squint at the sudden lightening of the room. With my eyes still adjusting to the sudden burst of light, I saw a small figure in the shadows. Instinctively I reached for the pistol kept in my thigh strap. Only to discover that my hands could not move. Thick metal clamps around my wrists and ankles, and then some less sturdy leather ones in an X shape across my chest, keeping me confined to the cold, unwelcoming touch of the chair. The floor was concrete that was so clean one could eat off of it.

From the shadows and into the light I saw a small man step out into my vision. He was round, a round head with little to no hair and glasses that were round and thick. His pants were black underneath his lab coat that was white, pressed to perfection and probably bleached every single day. It was almost brighter than the overhead light.
"My name is Dr. Zola, I am one of the main supervisors of the Super Soldier program here at Hydra."
"Super what? Hydra? I thought I was part of the Black Widow Program at the Red Room Academy."

Three days after my 12th birthday in 1931, my parents house was attacked and raided. Men in black suits with guns came storming in from every entrance of the house. I was not prepared for that day. I remember being in bed and trying to fall asleep when the glass came crashing onto the floor with screaming and shouting behind it. I was so terrified, I didn't know what to do. My little heart pounded in my chest so hard I thought I would start seeing the outline of it like in the cartoons. Gunfire rained into the house, making my ears ring and floors vibrate. Instinctively, I covered my ears, tucking my knees to my chest in the fetal position and squeezing my body together tightly. After what felt like minutes, silence coated the house. I could heat the gentle tapping of boots on the wooden floors from in the living room. My breathing had become hysteric and eyes wide as I gripped the covers in fear. A man's voice that I did not recognize boomed from in the living room. "Search the house."
Men now combed through every room, drawer and crevice of the house. Tearing apart my home bit by bit. Anger welled up inside my chest as I suddenly was overcome by a gust of courage. I grabbed the small pocket knife from my bedside table, flipping it open and holding it in my hand. I was just in time. As his boots thudded on the hardwood coming closer and closer to my room, I was climbing on top of the tall dresser that held my clothes. Finally, the doorknob jiggled and the door creaked open and a man with a gun pointed into the room made himself known. I leapt off of my dresser and onto the man's head, driving the knife into his eye. He screamed and stumbled around, giving me enough time to escape. I sprinted frantically down the hallway, only to be caught by the collar and lifted into the air like a puppy being picked up by the scruff of its neck.  "Aren't you a little fighter?" The ugly man breathed into my face with a sinister smirk plastered on his burley and chiseled features.
"Put me down!" I yelled, wriggling as I tried to loosen the grip this man had on me. The man slapped me in the face, the sting left me stunned. I stared at him with teary, wide eyes, my brow furrowed up in confusion.
"Give me a reason I shouldn't kill you as well."
As well? Who else was killed? My parents? Did these people kill my parents? Why? Had they killed my pet goat as well? I couldn't speak with all the questions swirling in my head. The only thing I could think to do was spit right into this mans face. He let out a breathy chuckle, wiping the spit from just below his eye.
"Put her in the truck."