I Am The Storm

Chapter Seventeen

I woke up early the next day to the small beeping of an alarm clock. I glanced over at it, the small digital print reading 7:00. I didn't want to get up, even though it was later than normal. Besides, I had a reason I needed to get up and not wallow in self pity the whole day. I had to look presentable for when I was ultimately collected by Hydra for failing my mission.

I stumbled into the bathroom, giving myself a once over in the mirror before getting in the shower. I had dark bags under my eyes, testament to the past few sleepless nights. I had spent almost all last night tossing and turning, going to sleep when the clock read five. The other nights had only been marginally better. I had never known sleep worse than this.

I took a long time in the shower. As soon as I discovered I was allowed to turn the showers warm (or when Friday turned the shower warm for me, insisting I don't freeze to death), I did it with pleasure. It was nice to be warm, and I knew the luxury was fleeting, so I was making the most of it.

I was out of the shower soon and dressed in the darkest, nicest clothes I could find in the drawers of what I later learned was called a dresser. Though the clothes happened to be a dark green long sleeve t-shirt and a pair of jeans, I felt better, safer. It was almost like the clothes were my armor.

After I was ready, my extremely short, yet unruly hair brushed into submission, I sat on the bed facing the door, so they would find me feining unafraid. It was almost eight in the morning, and breakfast would be arriving soon, 8:30 on the dot. If anything, I had a long time to wait. They would probably come to collect me once Stark Industries had closed so to not make a scene.

But as the minutes inched by, I found myself becoming anxious. I started scratching at my recently healed wrists, twisting my fingers under my bulky cuffs, hoping to find a scab to pick at, but all that was there was faintly raised, sensitive skin and pink lines that indicated my treason. I wished I had died then. Maybe then I wouldn't have to worry about what awaited me back at Hydra.

I sighed. Why was I so nervous?

The minutes inched closer to breakfast; it was 8:15. My stomach growled. Looks like something I would have to get used to, next to cold showers, was eating two limited meals a day, or at least limited by the likes of which I had been eating for the past couple of weeks.

At 8:30 the door opened, for breakfast I hoped. I did happen to be rather hungry. There was a person behind the door, or several people. I could hear them before they stepped inside.

From the door stepped a man. He was imposing, with perfect posture, dressed prestienely in a gray suit to match his gray hair. This was the man from my memory. I met his eye, but flinched away as he stepped closer, pulling up a chair about 10 feet in front of me.

"Hello," Ross said, "My name is Thaddeus Ross. I am the Secretary of State for the United States of America. I just need to ask you a couple of questions,"

Ross smiled, but it seemed fake. Almost painful. I nodded.

Ross started to speak again, talking to the gaggle of guards that had followed him into the room.

"Spread out." he spoke gruffly before turning back to Cori. The men did as they were told.

"So I understand that you are enhanced. Enhanced metabolism, healing, and senses?" he said. I nodded. There was no way to deny that. There were blood records and my cuts had already scarred over.

"But I also understand you have other abilities. Some, the ones who have survived the encounter at least, have said flight. Can you confirm or deny that?" I didn't move. I didn't speak. There was no way I could give anymore information away. I had already given too much, but there was minimal record of it. I could just neither confirm nor deny the fact that I had or had not floated.