Prisoners of HYDRA

4.

"I-I can't get up," Subject 273-1027 gasped, holding his side. 

I could sympathize. The experiments had drained me of energy (and a lot of blood), and still we were forced to continue training. I bent over my friend, ignoring the dizziness taking over, and stood there with my hand outstretched. 

He gratefully took it, but I couldn't get him up. I was too weak. My super strength was focusing on healing my injuries, and the lack of sufficient nutrients (I liked the food here as much as Subject 273-1027 did) wasn't helping matters. 

We stayed like that for a moment before our collars shocked us into moving. Subject 273-1027 basically jumped from his spot on the floor, and I tried not to jump to the ceiling and stay there. As far as I could remember, every time I did that I was just shocked more until I came down again, and shocking hurt. 

The whole place was just moment after moment of hurt. There was literally nothing good about this place. The meals were measly, the training was vigorous, and the experiments were painful. The worst part was the kills. The kills devastated you. You didn't care much when you had just been brain-washed, but after a while, you realized what you were doing and you realized what you were: a monster. Then they'd brainwash you again.

I was lucky enough (or maybe the opposite) to remember a lot because they hadn't brainwashed me in a while, mostly because the guards had so much to do. With the attention mostly all the way off of me, I was waiting for the right moment to strike.

But it was hard. The escape route (the only one I could find that we hadn't tested already) was constantly scrutinized by guards and we were always watched closely. I couldn't blame them, because I'd tried so many times to escape, but I couldn't help but wish they were a tiny bit dumber. 

"Hey, Subject 794- something, something, something," my sparring partner muttered, and I fought a smile. "We'd better get going again before they shock us."

So maybe there was one thing good at this hell hole. Subject 273-1027. I didn't remember when we became friends (everything is just super blurry), but we always had. Having a friend was both a blessing and a curse. It meant more leverage to the guards, more eyes on us, and us having to keep a constant eye on each other to make sure the other wasn't getting hurt too badly- which often lead to fights and more punishments. 

The best part about him was that he was definitely a distraction, for both myself and the guards. His biting words and rebelliousness often got him into trouble. This lead me to be able to stay out of the spotlight and come up with better ways to figure out a way out. Unfortunately, it also meant I had to punish him at times- just to continue staying out of the spotlight. 

I nodded, tugging at the collar and ignoring the tiny shock it gave me for touching it. I hated the things. 

The collar buzzed twice, marking that another match had begun, and I groaned. I was tired and sick of fighting my friend, constantly making sure that I didn't hurt him too badly. Based on the look in Subject 273-1027's eyes, he felt the same. 

But we both went into our fighting stances and began yet another match. 

I attacked first, lunging toward him before leaping back just as quickly. But he knew that trick already (which I thought was a bit unfair because he'd just gotten brain-washed and picked up on it quicker than he had before) and just stood there, his eyes narrowed. 

I edged forward, watching his movements closely in order to see what he was thinking. But he was unreadable. It stunk to fight him sometimes- he was obviously a seasoned warrior. The observation caught me by surprise. How would I know that?