The ghosts we hide (Winter Soldier x OC)

Nine

"Stop! Please!"

A sob racks my body as I struggle to breathe, desperately blocking a barrage of fists.

But the man doesn't stop, infinitely advancing on me, his movements robotic and emotionless.

A knee connects with my stomach, driving upwards into my ribs with nauseating force. A second later it connects with my face as I crumple over, barely containing a gag.

Righting myself, I send a desperate jab to his human shoulder, extending my claws into his flesh and grimacing as they slip in with ease.

He hardly flinches.

Instead, he swings a silver fist up, bringing it down on my outstretched arm with inhuman strength.

My stomach seems to drop through the floor, a scream extracting itself from my lungs, drowning out the sickening crack as my humorous snaps in half. Head swimming, I stumble backwards until my chin is flung upwards by another hit, sending me to the floor.

The super soldier is on me in an instant, the metal hand cool around my throat.

"Sir, it's me, It's Nyx." I choke out, the ability to speak dangerously close to escaping me.

His blue eyes stare down at me, but it's like he's a different person. In fact, it's like he's not a person at all, no sense of life flickering across his blank features.

"Ple..s. You... know me."

The words are hardly audible, sticking to my throat despite my desperation to utter them.

Brown hair slips over his face, dark locks clumped together with sweat. He curls his lip, teeth bared like an animal.

"Shut up." He hisses.

Claws slide from my fingers, scratching fruitlessly at the shiny metal of his wrist. Black ebbs in from the edges of my vision, but suddenly the pressure on my throat is gone.

Instead, I turn my head to watch as the Winter Soldier holds up a six inch needle to the light, a evil smile lighting up his face. Held in place by some unnatural force, I screech as the point buries itself in my skin.

My breathing comes in gasps, as if my body can't process the oxygen I'm inhaling while I stare into the barren arctic of his irises.

Suddenly he's gone and I'm looking up at a white ceiling, yet the pinching in the crease of my elbow is still there.

Brain spinning, I try to formulate a solid thought from my scrambled mind.

Where the fuck am I?

I attempt to sit up but something along my neck blocks my movements. My head can't seem to process this and I try again, panic starting to flood my veins when I'm unsuccessful, heartbeat picking up almost immediately after had started to slow.

I reach up to pull away whatever is inhibiting my ability to move, only to realise my hands can't move either.

Whirling my eyes in hundreds of different directions, I try to take in all of my surroundings in the same second, only causing my head to hurt more.

Everything swims in and out of focus as I try to yank my arms free, brain failing to find a reason as to why I can't move.

I hear yelling from far away and shy away from it as it continues on, only to realise the shouts are spilling from my own mouth. Heart hammering at an almost painful rate, my breathing becomes ragged and unstable. A dark substance starts to brew in my veins, feeding off my panic like the abomination it is.