Atlas has been part of HYDRA for as long as he can remember. He has been tortured, experimented and tested on. He is no stranger to pain, it's normal.
Until one day HYDRA decides to team him up with Winter Soldier for a mission. That was HYDRAs firs...
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I could sense them long before they arrived.
The forest, wide, dark and dense was filled with the buzzing of Shield agents. They closed in on us like shadows, almost making no sound as they breathed one with the forest.
I had Natasha kneeling before me, my sharp claws still around her neck securely.
I slid my predatory eyes over the treeline, making sure to not miss anything. I didn't even miss the small, red colored bird that was curiously perching on top of one of the pine trees. Taking off as soon as Steve Roger's foot landed in the clearing. The sun was making his shield shine bright as he raised it higher, skimming the empty surrounding suspiciously.
"Hey kid, we can still fix it!" I didn't acknowledge his words. Steve Rogers was empty space for me. He was a nobody, in fact, what was he even talking about exactly? Fix what?
Budnikov chuckled, not even looking at the masses of agents who emerged from the shadowy forest, I could sense some of them staying a bit further, trying to blend in. How pathetic, they thought they could hide themselves from me. "You really think that just being in your hold for a week, a HYDRAs property will just obey you like a dog, Captain?" the aged man with heavy accent next to me said, sounding rather amused.
"Hey, genius. In case you're colorblind, I'll let you know. There is a small, red dot on the spot where you heart is. And that red, small dot ain't leaving any time soon. So, you better give me back my friend and the kid. Or, option number two, my arrow will just pierce throught your dandy little heart!" a man said, having pulled his bow and arrows neatly and confidently towards us. Clint Barton, the man who never misses a shot.
"for an agent of SHIELD, Mister Barton, I think you have forgotten our code. You truly think that this, young masterpiece next to me wouldn't just take the bullet-- oh excuse me, an arrow for me?" Budnikov said with a mocking tone.
Clint Barton, somehow he resembled me the man with a dog. His face was twisted, as if he was in pain, but I could sense his worry and anger. I tightened my grip on Natasha, letting her know I was still focused.
"Hey, Mussolini, can't you just enjoy your old age, go to Hawaii, drink Bacardi and once in a while pet a dog or something? Seriously, don't you know that HYDRA is getting too old for this villain role?" Ironman said, standing near Captain America and sounding as bored as ever.
"Give the kid and the hostage over to us, sir. There needn't to be any bloodshed today." the patriotic man said, not glancing away from me once.
"needn't to have any bloodshed? Needn't to have any bloodshed?" Budnikov gasped. But I could see Steve give him a quick, suspicious glance. Natasha, having noticed my focus slipping from her, took advantage and instead of falling forwards, she leaned back, snapping her delicate neck backwards just enough so my claws that instinctively went for the kill, couldn't pierce her jugular vein, just leave a small red line on her pale skin . I stumbled back sightly, ready for Natasha's dance of death. As expected, she kicked up with her legs, making me grab them firmly. In tangled limbs and shadows of deadly eyes, I managed to push him town. But in our quiet, dangerous fight the cloth around her mouth slipped off. "Eliminate the target Barton." Romanoff said, glancing up.
