you never wanted to be this way. it’s just what you were trained to do. kill, report, repeat. kill, report, repeat. growing up in hydra wasn’t your choice, but it was your life. well….until now. recently, on a standard mission, you were encountered by a team. they weren’t familiar to you. no one is anymore. but you killed a few of their extra soldiers. and stole the intel your were told to. however, you didn’t get away in time. you put up a fight, but not good enough. you’re not good enough. they caught you.

so here you are. in a cell. now this….this is familiar. feeling trapped, dull. however, this cell is a lot nicer than what you’re used to. it has an actual bed. the bathroom is a different room. you get food three times a day. you get to shower. and you only just got here three days ago. you’re surprised these people haven’t killed you yet. the anticipation of it happening eats you alive. you’re allowed to read, too. you can’t remember the last time you read. that’s what you’re doing right now. then, without warning, your door opens. a man comes in. he was one of the team members. he was the one that tackled you down, actually. that’s the only recognition you put to his face as he pulls a chair into your room and sits down in front of your bed.

“what are you reading?” the question is so simple. too simple.