Masquerade (Bucky Barnes x Male Reader)

XXVI | Trapped

CW: USE OF DEROGATORY LAUNGAGE TOWARDS PEOPLE OF LGBT, readers discretion advised.

Two cold tight chains held you by the arms. Your head hung low and your legs dangled, dragged on the floor. You were lifted high enough so you couldn't have your knees on the ground, but low enough so your feet couldn't lay flat without you being hunched over. Your arms took all of your weight, so it was quite uncomfortable, but comfort definitely didn't describe Hydras ways.

Your hands bled at the palms, arms grew tierd and left bruised. Your face felt swollen and it bled, as well did your abdomen and chest. You felt pain throughout your whole body, and if you ever got out of there, you'd definitely need another tetanus shot due to the rust covered chains that wrapped around your arms, like a snake killing its prey. Faces had been in and out, but none that you had recognized. They tried to get information from you about the Avengers, but you wouldn't budge.

You winced as a bright light filled the room for a moment, only to be gone as soon as it came. It wasn't long before another bright light was on though, this time right in your eyes. 

„Das Phantom der Maskerade. Was für eine angenehme Überraschung.“
(The Phantom of the Masquerade. What a pleasant suprise.) A man in red spoke. He stood just outside of the light, but you could get a rough outline of what he looked like.

„Ich würde es nicht als Überraschung bezeichnen. Schließlich bist du derjenige, der mich entführt hat.“
(I wouldn't call it a suprise, you're the one that kidnapped me after all.)

"Well, I never said it was a suprise to me."

"It was implied."

He walked around you ever so slowly, maybe to intimate you; it wasn't working. "Do you know who I am?"

"Let me take a wild guess."

"Go right ahead."

"My cousin Frank? No... he died I'm 68... Dad? No, he's dead too."

"I know who you are."

"Really? And all this time I thought you needed an introduction."

"Stop playing smart with me boy!" He whipped a chain to the back of your knee.

You winced.
"Would you rather me play dumb officer."
You batted your eyelashes at him.

"Your English has gotten better, although it's disappointing you still use it."

"You're the one who started talking English, you verdammter Hippokrat."
(Fucking hippocrate) you spat at his foot.

He grabbed his handkerchief from his suit pocket, wiped the spit off his shoe and hit you across the face with the chain.

Your face felt like it was sliding off your skull and then had gotten hit with a thousand darts. "You fucking cunt!" You winced, your right cheek had busted, it would later need stiches, and your tooth cracked, you spat it out and it was covered in blood.

"Have you figured out who I am yet?"

"Are you going to tell me why I'm here? Or do I have to guess that too."  You felt around your mouth with your tounge, you could taste the blood.

He stepped into the light, showing his face. It was beaten up, and old, but you recognized it from anywhere. It was the same face from when you were just seventeen years old. The man who had given you the scar.

"You're still alive?"

"Cryo-freeze. Does wonders for the skin."

"Why the hell did you want to stick around till the new 20's. Couldn't face your inevitable failure?"