Elizabeth I:The Captian's Daughter

Elizabeth's thoughts

 "As long as there's life, there is always hope." That's what my dad always said, my middle name 'Hope' comes from this concept. Why'd he name such a hopeless child 'Hope'. I just woke up a few minutes ago, despite not remembering ever falling asleep. I'm in the same cell, same falling apart concrete walls. Same pebble covered floor. Same draft, and chills running down my my back.

I'm Captain America's daughter, I should be strong, I should be brave, courageous and never giving up, but I'm not. This rug burn shouldn't bother me, but it does. Why can't I be more like Dad. I punch the wall, then I breath in through my teeth and hold my fingers in the other hand. Note to self, don't punch concrete.

I pull myself across the cell to the door, I lean gently on it and peer down the hall. I occasionally see someone pass through the hall at the end of mine. No one passes by me though, That may be a good thing though, at least they're not hurting me. I put my hand over my stomach as it starts to growl, as if it disagrees with me, of course it doesn't have a consciousness so it can't, but despite that, it has a point. They don't need to touch me to hurt me, they could just not feed me, although I hope they plan on feeding me.

I grab a pebble from next to me and I start tossing them across the room, trying to cure my boredom with what little I have. Soon I give up on that too. Then I notice someone coming down my hall, it's Madame Hydra. I move away from the door to the wall opposite to it.

"What do you know of Preston Waters." She says, looking down on me.

"Never heard of him." She takes a deep breath, "My dad doesn't tell me a lot about his job, for security, and safety reasons."

"If that's true, let's hope your Dad starts talking." My stomach knotted up, I nearly felt like I was going to vomit.

"Wh-Why?" I ask, afraid of the reply.

"Because if he doesn't we may have to hurt you." She says matter-of-factly, she acts like it's nothing, like hurting one's family to get information is fine. I start shaking, I'm so glad Dad's not here. She smiles, and after a minute or two she finally leaves.

I need out.

But how, how am I supposed to escape if I can't even walk? And if I caught they'll...no...think logically, relax. I really have only three possibilities.

One, I could stay and end up beaten to get information out of my dad.

Two, I try to escape, and get caught, and most likely get beaten.

Three, I try to escape, and by some off chance I escape, I'm free.

I guess the best shot I got is to try I suppose. But first I need to get out of this room, but what after that, of course there's try to fight whoever attacks, but what else? It'd probably be good to find someone to help, because as much as I hate needing help, I'm going to need it.

I drag myself to the door, I look thought it, for a way I can get out, nothing. I survey the door itself, nothing. Maybe there'd be something if I were more experienced. Taking in a deep breath, I smell something, it smells like chicken, food. My stomach growls from the scent. The agent stops in front of my cell with a platter of food and water.

"Back up." I slowly back up

The agent Opens the door, and closes it after placing the food in front of it. I drag myself to it and take a bite. It's dry, flavorless, and overall unappealing, then again who am I to complain, it's probably better than my cooking. Plus, you know what they day, The best spice, is hunger.