Frail heart

Expedition

Chapter four

You had to admit, your body had never felt as physically able as it did now. Your movements had become somehow even more precise than before, calculated, and deadly. Steve was reluctant when you had proposed the idea of attending the heavier missions, but he had no reason to believe that you weren't capable, so he acquiesced.

In contrast to your previous strategy of brutally and rather outwardly attacking your enemies, you slowed down considerably and opted to strike a different kind of fear within them. The abrupt darkening of a room and consequential blindness to whatever lurked within it was predatory in a way that excited you immensely, and you could feel the fear radiating off of the men in a room, the quickening of their hearts. You found no pleasure in the brutality of the attack, so you were swift and efficient, and when the lights returned, there was so little bloodshed you'd think no one had entered it at all.

To not be lead by unconscious drive was unusual in the beginning, but everything needed a motive, suitable reason, and that was one of the hardest patterns to break into. Killing because it was all you had ever known, and doing so without remorse, was now a recoiling thought rather than a routine. You could have a little fun with it though.

As you listened from the ceiling of one of the main halls in the building you were infiltrating, you could hear the rushed footsteps of the occupants growing nearer. They had all been alerted to an unauthorised entrance at the left wing of the building, that so happened to be you. It hadn't taken long for them to all gather in the hall, the lights flickering off as the doors on the opposing ends of the hall were webbed shut.

Guns raised, along with their heartrates, the men all swivelled round to find the hidden perpetrator, but alas there was nothing. With the advantage of the darkened room, you dropped from the ceiling right at the far end, and watched as the light above you glitched to reveal the eery silhouette of you. All the men in the room turned to face you, some yelling, some not. You knew why they weren't.

You were a familiar face in the Hydra community, at least your suit was, and you were more than certain that some of the men in the room with you had done their research and knew exactly who they were looking at. It wouldn't have mattered how many steps back they took; it wouldn't have got them far.

The bullets fired at you were expected, but they hadn't expected a bullet proof suit it seemed. It was entertaining to watch the majority of them scramble to the doors to try and pry them open, while the others held their ground rather fiercely. The light above you stuttered off, you appearing just a little closer as the next light revealed your new position, and that continued until you were close enough to feel the tremble of the breaths being released from one of the soldiers, he couldn't feel you there though.

With a firm kick, the soldier flew back and took out a few of the other men on his way, your arm coming out to block the metal bar being flung toward you. You lift your knee to collide it with the man's crotch, grabbing him by the vest and slamming him into the wall. The dust of the impact clears to reveal a hoard of men grabbing at the fallen rubble and hurling it at you, but the chunk of concrete you grasp in the air finds itself ricocheting off the heads of the ones unlucky enough to be in its path.

Now, you had promised yourself minimal injury, you were only here to kill them after all, but there was still that gleam of something animalistic in you, hungry to see the crimson blood of the men who hurt the innocent. The metal pipe buried within the now gaping hole in the wall seemed a reasonable enough weapon, so you yanked it out, water bursting out of it, and swung for the masses.

You eased up on the amount of weight you put into the swing, but gave it enough to shatter a couple skulls here and there. Once the general area had been cleared, you turned your attention to the men huddled against the doors, flinging your skilled hands out to web them one by one to the walls on either side of them. Writhing and yelling, the men watched as you strolled down the hall to them, securing a string of webs around the handles of the door before yanking them back and crashing into the men on the walls. The impact was sufficient enough to render them immobile, significant damage to their body leaving the internal bleeding to run its course and kill them as they hung there.