Behind The Scars

Chapter 2

The room smelled of urine and feces the foul odor so overwhelming I nearly gagged in disgust when I was tossed into the cell. Which would have been painful considering my ribs were most likely broken from the explosion.

I cursed my enhanced senses as I breath raggedly my wounds draining me of strength I desperately needed.

Everything had been planned so carefully and perfect I had known where I was suppose to be at what time and what I was suppose to do. I know every step of the plan. Every detail of the layout to the compound. We had planned for every action and reaction from the target. We had planned for everything.

Well not everything.

I've done a lot of bad shit in my life. Killed a lot of people. Destroyed lives and families.

I've never harmed a child though.

Everything had been going so perfect just as planned. The target had been in sights and my finger had been on the trigger. I had been one millisecond from pulling. Then he appeared. Wide eyed and innocent not understanding the dire situation he just had stepped into.

Hawk had been screaming in my ear to eliminate the target but what was I suppose to do. There could be no loose ends and that exactly what the child would have been. Kill a child? No that was out of the question. I may be screwed up but I could never do something as horrible as that. The few seconds that it took for me to process the options I had considering the child cost me everything.

The target had drawn his weapon the seconds my eyes flickered from him to the child. I remember suddenly staring up the ceiling in confusion. Seconds passed before the burning pain of the bullets in my chest stole my breath.

Then the whole fucking house exploded.

I've been held captive many times since I've graduated from basic training. Most of them were on purpose. It was just easier to let the target think they were at an advantage sometimes and I was the best at getting out of sticky situations.

An I was always getting into sticky situations.

I had the scars to prove it.

I had no sense of time in my cell. For a while I was left alone and I was thankful for that. I needed my healing abilities to repair my major injuries so I could escape easier.

Escaping with a broken leg wasn't impossible but it was damn difficult not to mention my ribs.

I was told I had been held captive for eleven months but I hadn't believed them. To me it had been at least three years.

Every day had been a new round of torture that I endured for my unit. I had to keep them safe. Had to keep my country safe.

I never spoke a word.

I scream and roared in agony, but I never spoke a word.

When I was finally recovered I was sure I wasn't a pretty sight.

The right side of my face had been used as a canvas for a horrible little man who had simple carved up my face because he wanted to. He hadn't even asked me a question. He had breathed one word in satisfaction before leaving me bloody and in pain.

"Beautiful."

My usual tortures had been furious and confused at what had happen to my face and the mystery of the little man was never explained to me.

Fortunately my face hadn't gotten an infection and the wounds ended up healing into a intricate design of scars that I loathed looking at to this day. Unfortunately my right eye also hadn't survived unscathed from my time in the compound.