Perfectly Broken

...2

"What the world fails to realise is that a 'villain' is just a victim who's story hasn't been told"

Edited. But tell me if you still see a mistake!

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An almost unaudible muffled groan, that was all she could manage to let out- then it hit again, pain. That was all that she had after being kidnapped, where was she? What time was it? How long had it been? How the hell was she even alive? No idea nor answer for any of these questions.

Her head was spinning, she felt an uncomfortable pressure in her forehead, it was hard to describe, add to the never ending stress the physical pain, all those injuries, she wished she had died of that useless sickness rather than being dead in life- if this could even be called that.

It had not been enough but until leaving her curled into a ball on the cold stone floor, bruises bleeding crimson red, barely being able to breath- not like she wanted to do so anyways.

Then they forced her up, she couldn't move from the pain, so they practically wiped the floor with her while they dragged her to the cell, she tripped over a few times from the instability and they just kept walking, her core so sore from the blows and kicks that even breathing made her muscles ache.

They arrived after a few minutes and they just pushed her in, she fell to the floor and with a pounding head she heard the bars that made the door creak when closed, leaving her to her luck. Lucifer was either having a fun time with this one, or he was also disgusted of this, he had hell for a reason, and the arseholes were practically trying to copy him- who knows, but at this point it didn't even mattered anymore. She managed to crawl as best as her body would allow her to a few blankets that laid on a corner that were supposed to be her 'bed'.

She laid on them and rested her head on the wall, wanting to sleep, just then would she enter to a realm of peace- but she couldn't, and that was before, now it was plagged with nightmares. After a while in that place her heart had started to race out of nowhere even when she was sitting and doing nothing, she still had no idea why, but it didn't felt good in the slightless. And her body wasn't much better...

Her troath was almost dry, a sour metal-like taste lingering in her mouth, tears wouldn't stop coming out, her eyes red, making their natural color shine even brighter- the irony no? She was in pieces, broken like never before yet she still looked beautifull- at least outside.

She didn't even noticed when she had started to cry, was she so caught up in her mind? Well it served as a little reminder of what was her life now

It wasn't always like that, once, she had been a dreamer, a genious, with a great future ahead- monsters decided to ruin it when she least expected it, they waited for a moment of weakness to take it all away from her, the worst? She was so vulnerable that she couldn't do anything, she tried, but it didn't worked, it all went to hell in one second.

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Siberia 1993

Vasily Karpov, the Winter Soldier's current handler, the man was writing down on a book, keeping track of all his work while in Hydra, only few from the most important of these notes were selected and written on the red book he was provided with. He had just turned a page to keep writing but he was interrupted as a soldier came in panting and with- terrified eyes?

"I- sorry to interrupt General but, it's-"

"Talk" Karpov was holding the book open and scowled to the other one that just broke in, urging him to talk.