Subject X (Winter Soldier X Reader)

2

An alarm rang overhead, bringing me from my sleep. The last thing I remember was being strapped to the chair and being pumped with the serum. The room was still dark. Artificial light shone through the small, fogged window on the top of the door to what I assumed was my room. My bed was shoved into the corner, metal frame and bolted to the floor. It was in the opposite corner of the thick metal door. Directly across from me was an open bathroom. A short cinder block wall  provided minimal privacy for the shower, but the toilet and sink were in the complete open. I checked around the room for cameras, hoping that they wouldn't be watching me go to the bathroom all the time. I sat up slowly, feeling my wrists and expecting there to be handcuffs holding me down. I guess that was a plus, I didn't have to wait to be released to start my day.

Another alarm caught my attention towards the door. I turned my head, watching as the metal wall separated. There was glass on the other side, the silhouette of a small, round man.

"Sleep well?" His voice taunted over a speaker system within my room. All I did was glare, not showing any emotions towards the puny man. He scoffed, shaking his head. "Someone not a morning person?"

Another alarm, this time a small trap door opened and slid a tray of food.

"Eat up my dear. In approximately 15 minutes another alarm will sound that unlocks the doors. Follow the guards and they will take you to the training room. That's when the real fun will begin."

I kept a stone cold face, listening to every word that Dr. Zola said. I wanted him to feel the daggers shooting out of my eyes aiming directly for his chubby little neck. Dr. Zola walked away, the mysterious doors closing off the light that came into the cell block from the hallway. I reluctantly got up, examining my choices for breakfast. It didn't look half bad. A bowl of oatmeal, plain with brown sugar sprinkled on top. A cup of yoghourt with a side of assorted fruits and finally, orange juice to drink.

To be honest, I was not upset by the meal. I tenderly took the spoon and dug into the oatmeal, eating it rather quickly given my time crunch. I noticed the tray on top of a cushion. I lifted up the lunch tray, only to find it was tenderly folded up clothing. I picked up the clothing and the tray, walking over to my bed. I placed the food on my bed, picking up a small raspberry and popping it in my mouth before fully examining the clothing. There were two pieces of black, thin, and breathable fabric. One was a long sleeve shirt. It was tactical, similar to the ones that soldiers wore during hand to hand combat. It reminded me a lot of the outfits I wore during my training for Dreykov. The pants I got were black tactical pants with a wide range of pockets. As I unfolded the shirt, a white tank top fell out of it and onto the bed. I assumed something for me to wear when I was hot.

I began to put on the clothing, worrying about the time. While I had my pants on, I shovelled oatmeal into my mouth, washing it down with a large drink of the orange juice, finishing it off. In the middle of putting on my tight shirt, I heard the alarm and the sound of a door lock clicking.

"Shit." I muttered while struggling to put the tight fitting shirt over the rest of my body. I made my way to the door, two guards waiting to escort me there. They carried large guns in their hands, faces covered my black helmets. My previous training taunted me, forcing me to comply and stay very still. I thought of every way I could disarm the guards and plan my escape, but I had no idea where I was or how to get out. One wrong corner and I could be lined with bullets. Worse, I feared the punishment Dr. Zola may inflict on me. If what he says is true, that I am now stronger than the average human, the punishment would be immensely more painful.

We took a series of turns down dimly lit hallways until finally reaching two large metal double doors. My breath hitched in my throat, suddenly nervous for what was behind the doors. I heard nothing but the silence from the hallways and the shuffling of the clothing of the guard to my right as he stepped forward, opening the door for me. The guard to my left forcefully pushed me through the door. I stumbled on my feet a bit before regaining my balance as the doors were slammed and locked behind me. The room was large with the door I had entered from smack in the middle. To my right, mirrors lined the wall where there were countless weight benches and machines for usage. To my left, weapons lined the wall. Guns, bows, batons, spears, everything one could ever want for practising. There were squares on the floor that resembled wrestling rings, which I assumed was for sparring. Finally, directly in the middle of the room, an ominous cage. Slowly I approached it, curiosity getting the better of me. The glass was thick, tempered, it seemed like not even a bullet could even pass through it. The floor was white, blood stained and dirty. I swallowed hard, knitting together my eyebrows.