Chapter 3

Eirin

This was before they thought about giving us normal clothes, so I was wearing a hospital gown that went down to my knees. The man I feared most, Golfo, walked in with the book, making me lose all color and curl up into the corner that I made my safe space. He stood with a man beside him who held a gun. Golfo dismissed him and sat at the table, waiting for me. He put the book on the floor and looked at me. Rising to my feet and sitting at the table, my breath quickened. He said he would never hurt me. But whenever he said those hurtful words, the ones that turned me into a monster, made me hurt others. His hand rested the book on the table and he mumbled each word, my head feeling like an ax sat between my eyes.

The knife I used to stab her twisted in my hands, a scream leaving her mouth. Blood ran down her head and onto her neck. Her small hands wrapped around my wrist, the tears yelled at me. Within seconds, I screamed and backed away from her. My hands over my mouth. Panicking, my hands put pressure on the wound. My mouth wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to say ‘I’m sorry.’ She continued to cry out as I took my gloves off, holding them over the deep cut. The blood left stains on my pale skin for weeks. This little girl, about 3 years old, shouldn’t have been the one to get hurt. Her eyes closed slowly and all I could do was watch as tears burned my skin. A police siren made me jump back and run into the shadows. A woman knelt down beside her and screamed. Two other officers ran over and took her away, yelling that she still had a pulse.

The shock collar on my neck sent another 100 volts to my body. Golfo held his hand up, signaling them to stop. His hand touched the collar and tightened it.

“This happens when you fail, got that?” His dark eyes held nothing but hate. I didn’t even nod, and they shocked me one last time, my eyes going black. When I woke up, the cold cement floor comforted me. Blood from my lips dripped into my mouth. I bite the inside of my mouth and my lips when I’m anxious and sometimes in my sleep. Tonight is just one of those nights. The door opened, Golfo walked in with a grin on his face. This evil grin always scared me. He walked over to the side and there stood a tall, scary man with dark circles around his eyes. A mask covered his mouth, his eyes stinging me. Golfo said something to him I couldn't understand and just like that, the man stomped towards me, pulling my hair. He pulled a gun out of his belt and shot my leg. I knew what Golfo wanted. He wanted to hear me scream. This is what he did. Hurt me beyond compare, just to hear me scream. When I didn’t, another bullet, right through my head. Lights, blurry, sounds, ringing. Nothing. Things just went on. The only thing I remembered about that man. . .is his metal arm.

⛧

I sat up, gasping for air. James stared at me, confused. My body trembled, rolling off the side of the bed and backing up towards the door. He stood, holding his hand out.

“Eirin? What’s wrong?” He sounded scared, worried. I pushed him away and ran to my room, locking the door behind me. James pounded on the door, calling for me. My hands pressed onto my ears, trying not to hear him. I could hear him, begging please.

“You hurt me, James. You were that man. The Winter Soldier, right?” He stayed silent, his shadow staying still.

“Let me explain, please.” His voice stayed soft, making me shake. I opened the door, he quickly wrapped his arms around me, sobbing. We sat on the floor, our backs on the wall while he told me the long story of H.Y.D.R.A. When he finished, his eyes were bloodshot. My hand touched his cheek, forcing him to look at me.

“I’m not scared of you.” I mumbled, holding out his dog tags to him. They jingled in his hands while he stared at them. My heart dropped when he uttered ‘thank you’. All my life, I have never once thought that I could trust a single person. And yet here I am, curled up against a wall with a man who knows what I’m going through and has experienced the same amount of pain that I have felt. The only reason I actually stopped talking is because my favorite therapist passed away. That’s when I knew that life had no meaning. It came without warning and no one even cared. He was truly the only person who cared about my feelings. That was the period when I felt okay mostly, able to smile. When he died, they took me away and threw me into a room where I sat alone. Because I wouldn’t respond to them, they left me alone with my thoughts. At first, the self harm was clear, and they stopped it by putting bandages over the spots where I would dig my nails into my skin.

That’s when I began biting my nails and the inside of my mouth. I would itch my hands and legs, leaving bleeding skin all over my body. Golfo would look at me, disappointed. Then he would brainwash me, forcing me to kill thousands. On a windy Monday morning, I had a mission to disguise myself as a high school student and kill three specific students. Only I could fill this role, being as small as I am. The day I arrived, one of the targeted students committed suicide, giving me less of a job to get done. It didn’t bother Golfo, so it didn’t bother me either. I killed the other two students leaving not a single drop of blood. The only blood that anyone could see was my own, draining from my nose. People bullied me, not that it bothered me. The words they said and the actions they made caused all the thoughts in my head to skyrocket. C.A.R.M.A. brought me back to reality and told Golfo that I wasn’t allowed on any more missions unless I had a partner. I didn’t work with people well.

The first time that they had attempted to partner me up with someone, I watched them die with a smile on my face. Of course, C.A.R.M.A. didn’t care about the ability to read and write well, so I didn’t do so hot when sometimes I had to write a letter to a certain person. The first time I met The Winter Soldier, he had hurt me drastically. C.A.R.M.A. didn’t let me die. How could they when I was the only creation of my kind that came out successfully? I could alter a person's memories, paralyze them, force them to fall asleep, and I could even make someone’s appearance change for 24 hours. They tried to duplicate me but failed each time. I am the only breed that made it out alive.

Training was almost as hard as just trying to live each day. They would attach weights to me while I sat underwater. My hands would be cuffed and inside metal boxes so that I couldn’t use my abilities. They would throw electric eels and jellyfish into the water and I would have to get out without touching a single one or getting stung or electrocuted. I failed each time. They coated the boxes in the blood of crabs, attracting the eels and jellyfish. I earned scars like trophies each day because of that exercise.

The scars on my neck are from the shock collar that they tightened more and more each day. I would go weeks without eating and drinking just because I wanted to be left alone. When the doors opened and someone walked through, I would hide. They filled my life with reflective glass where scientists, doctors, and the government watched me. I remember little from my childhood. Maybe I didn’t have one. Sometimes I’m sitting in the dark and I can hear someone calling my name. The small spotted blanket is all I have left from my family. They left me in the streets when they saw my eyes were black. Within months of torture from C.A.R.M.A., my eyes became a dark brown. The doctors wouldn’t ever tell me about my family because they knew nothing about them. As far as the world is concerned, I didn’t exist before the crimes I committed.

James left me alone at home for hours again. Normally, I would be fine with this, but after the fight we had, I stayed anxious. When he returned, Sam stood beside him. Both of them looked tired. I ran into the kitchen to grab snacks for them. Placing a tray on the coffee table and a jug of water, the two of them looked at me. The black jean shorts just barely fit me with the belt pulled tight. James’ black t-shirt hung just above my knees. Sam cleared his throat, taking a cracker. James handed a small gray box to me, my name written on the side. Inside sat a small ring made of a chain. My eyes bounced to James.

“It’s from the tags. Melted 'em down and got them made into that ring.” He closed his eyes, sighing. His tags made me smile whenever I looked at them. I got none because I wasn’t really in the military. The ones that James had felt different when they sat in my hands; Cold and full of emotion. It slid onto my thumb, snugly resting. I smiled at him and nodded my head as a thank you. That’s when he broke my heart. The three of us would go to Russia to meet someone. The only reason I’m going is because James is stuck with protecting me. That night, we climbed onto a plane, fast and quiet. He held a pencil in his hand, scribbling down some words and saying them in small syllables. After I repeated them perfectly, he had me write them down. His handwriting doesn’t look much different from mine. Mine is messy, big, and hard to read while his is small, perfect, and poetic-looking. When I spelt something wrong or he couldn't understand what I was writing, his eyebrows would narrow and his forehead would crease.

His expressions make me think that no one really understands him for who is. Sam took the notebook from him and turned to me, giving him a break.

“I think the issue with your writing is that you are trying to make it look like Bucky’s too much. Here, write this word: Cat.”

Cat. It looks different. Better, like I wrote it. Sam smiled, seeing my excitement. We went on with this until the plane landed. After that, I continued writing small words that looked beautiful to me. I walked into a man with a furry coat, making me drop the notebook. When he looked at me, I froze, struggling to breathe. Golfo. How is he still alive?

“So she’s really here.” He smirked, looking at James. Sam crossed his arms, not knowing what to say. James grabbed the notebook and stood in front of me.

“Leave her alone.” He said, his voice stabbing Golfo in the heart.

“Oh really, soldier? How would you like it if you hurt her? . .Again. Longing, rusted, seventeen.-”

“That doesn’t work anymore.” James interrupted, my hand reaching for his arm.

“But what about little Phoenix here?” His grin made me panic, and Sam pulled me back, holding my arm. Golfo laughed, turning around.

“Are we really trusting him?” James growled, looking at me.

“Yes, he has the answers we need to end this clan.” Sam barked back, following Golfo. My heart quickened, my feet wouldn’t move. James walked closer to me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“It’s okay. I won’t let him do that to you. And when we’re done with this, I’m gonna get that shit out of your head, okay?” I nodded, tugging on the end of my shirt. He gave me the sweater in my bag that sat on the ground. Zipping it up, I felt safer, just knowing that he would help me get over all of this. We walked inside, finding the two staring at each other. Golfo poured whisky for himself, asking if we wanted any. James pulled a beer out of Golfo’s fridge, lifting it up into the air. Helmut Zemo. That is his actual name. When he first met me, he called himself Golfo because he was trying to keep secrets between me and C.A.R.M.A. which is fine with me. A file sat on the counter, making me curious. Peeking at it, it said my name on the tab. He pulled it into his hands, clicking his tongue.