LITTLE WARRIORS ( pietro maximoff )

Prologue

{edited}

❝SHE HAD BECOME ACCUSTOMED TO BEING LONELY. SHE WAS USED TO WALKING ALONE AND BEING CONSIDERED 'DIFFERENT.' SHE DID NOT SUFFER TOO MUCH.❞
–BETTY SMITH

HER BODY SHOOK AGAINST the cement floor, her eyes darting to anything in the room. Inside was just a small cot for her to sleep on but other than that, that was it. Her gray dress resembled much of a hospital gown. Her hair that was once in a small tight bun now trailed down her back in loose tangles. Her bright blue eyes that were once full of life and shone with happiness were now pain riddled and bloodshot.

Scars marked her body all over but the only ones revealed were on her arms and legs. Some of them were marks from weapons; knife wounds decorating her arms like cracked glass but they were starting to fade now. The most recent were small circle like marks on her forearms and neck, most likely from a syringe. Some were bright red while the others were just as pale as her skin.

'Who am I? Where am I?'

The same two questions continued to play over in her head like mantra. The girl couldn't remember how she got there or how she got the scars but she knew they weren't self inflicting. She couldn't remember anything actually.

She could remember how the sun felt on her face, the way dry grass jabbed at her thighs when she sat on them, how the starlings would mimic her songs and lullabies. What she couldn't remember were the intricate details: her parents were a mystery as was the rest of her life, and she couldn't remember her home but she knew she had one (or did she?). She could remember someone screaming a name - most likely hers - but she couldn't make out what the muffled voice was saying.

Occasionally, she would hear the muffled voices of people passing by and their heavy boots hitting the cement floor. No one stopped in front of her cell but instead they walked past it as if they couldn't hear her please of help. She would often hear them speak things when they walked past, saying 'Subject 26.' The girl eventually came to the conclusion that she was Subject 26. That was the only name she was given and could remember.

Once, she had heard of the volunteers; apparently they were volunteering for a series of experiments. She had hoped that she wasn't alone, that she could be with the others but one thing broke her: a guard had passed by, saying how tired he was of removing the bodies.

The bodies. Not the volunteers.

They were dead.

The girl had realized that she was alone. And she would always be alone.

A/N: Dunno why but for some reason whenever I click on this chapter, it says there's like fifteen pictures or something... weird.

Hey guys! So this is my first story on Wattpad or anything really :) I hope you guys like it and if you guys have any suggestions or thoughts or comments or anything you want to say, don't be shy. Also, this chapter is kinda short but don't worry! I'll try to make them longer. I also plan to update Mondays and Fridays. Hope you guys like the first chapter!