An Attempt at Sunshine (Winter Soldier) (Marvel)

[02.00] [April 12, 1986]

The door to my enclosure opens with the shriek of rusting metal.

There is a new one, they say to us.

We are led through the endless halls I can't seem to keep track of no matter how hard I try. I'm sure he knows though. He doesn't like to tell me what he knows.

Another door opens to eat us. I take in the wooden table, the two chairs on either side, the knife laying on the wood, the stark white walls, the mirror that most certainly holds eyes staring at me. And the man. The young man in a suit that's too tight and too old.

He looks up at me, a nervous look in his eyes that he tries to hide. I've seen that so many times before. He introduces himself as Pierce. My new handler.

"Do you want to sit down?"

Yes please I want to sit I haven't slept in days they keep running me let me sleep

We stay rigid.

"Okay." Pierce stands as well. He is not as tall as I thought. 5' 11" 180 lbs., lean and strong. He slides the knife off the table and lets it sit in his hand for a moment. He doesn't seem quite sure how to use it, or if he even wants to. He glances up at us, making eye contact for longer than he would like to, trying to establish dominance over us.

"Okay, now... don't stab me."

He gives us the knife, it sits perfectly balanced in our chrome appendage.

"Uh." he hesitates. "Why don't you carve something in the table?"

I can do that. I do not fight. He carves a line.

Pierce's eyes glance uneasily towards the mirror, begging for approval from the watchers. I want to glance there too, but he doesn't let me. I am not in control.

"Okay." He sighs, and glances again, to the mirror, to the ground. Pierce looks up again and draws a line with his finger across the palm of his hand.

He understands before I do, and the pain surprises me. The red line seems to make the watchers happy, as the tension releases in the room.

I give up and let them draw pictures in my skin.