I Am The Storm

Chapter Eleven

The mission had to be completed in ten days, not including today, and I had made no progress. I had no materials, and though I was regularly practicing with my powers, they wouldn't be strong enough to do anything huge by the end of the deadline. I was at a loss. Why would Hydra just leave me with a mission, but nothing to complete it with?

Though, with what I had gotten into, being captured and everything, I would almost say this was deserved. I had compromised Hydra and left them to deal with my mess.

But even if I did mess up, it wasn't like them to give me an impossible mission afterwards. Not to mention that I technically did complete my first mission. And then got caught by amateurs. So I guess it could be understandable.

A sudden spike in my growing headache stopped me in my tracks. My head had been aching for days on end, and if there wasn't a word for this kind of headache, I was going to punch something. The pain always seemed to come from a region near my left eyebrow and back to my ears, though it didn't really matter where the headache came from, it still hurt. I had been throwing up everything I ate (which wasn't much) because of this headache. I was sick of being in constant agony.

I closed my eyes and sat on the cot. I had been getting random flashes of memories for the past few days, and they had been more than annoying. They happened whenever; brushing my teeth, in the shower, eating, falling asleep, and the pain from the headache usually caused me to collapse, and in rare occasions, pass out.

Being dug out of my corn by a random person armed with a needle if I decided to attack them wasn't the highlight of the last week.

But I had seen a lot of my siblings. I knew for some reason all the kids I saw in "my room" were my siblings. They looked similar to me, and it was nice to see them. I liked those flashbacks, even though I knew I shouldn't have any particular attachment to them. If Hydra found out after they deliberately made me forget them, then I would get in massive trouble once they found out I had remembered them.

Really, this whole experience would get me in massive trouble.

I also had flashbacks that weren't so happy. Unfortunately, these memories seemed to be clearer, more defined, than the soft memories of my siblings. Memories of myself killing people. I couldn't for the life of me remember if they were innocent or not.

The clearest memory I had was unfortunately the latter.

I was standing above a woman, cold gun in my hand, glinting menacingly in the low light. We appeared to be in a basement alone. The woman had tears running down her cheeks, maskara following the tracks down her face. Her lipstick was smeared across her cheek and she was missing one of her large, hooped earrings. I was hot, and the mask was cutting into my cheekbones hard enough to draw blood.

The woman was gasping for breath between loud sobs, which was frankly annoying. Her hands were above her head, but they kept on inching down before I pressed the gun harder to her head. It was almost like she was trying to get something from her jacket pocket. I twitched in anticipation to get the job done.

"Please. I'll do anything," the woman sobbed, "I have a little girl, a daughter. I don't know what I've done wrong. Please let me go," she whimpered as I pressed the gun harder to her head.

I had been stalling long enough. I pulled the trigger, and walked off, leaving the woman's body for someone else to find. She knew what she had done, she knew what she was and what she had become.

Other memories weren't as clear, but still elicited the same emotions in me. I was torn with what I should feel: guilty and disgusted, or indifferent.