Second Sphere

An angel of chaos

Weeks, months pass. I'm not really sure how much of it I was awake for, or myself for. There are shattered moments of consciousness. All filled with immense pain. The worst of it started this morning. Waking up after a long procedure and finding myself weighed down from behind. Whatever they placed over my back is extremely heavy and my back feels like it's on fire. I try and lift myself up from the hard bed in my cell but I can't.

A voice calls from outside my cell "Fräulein, you should be happy. Yes it hurts now, but we have given you a great gift. We have made you holy, a true angel. Soon you will be able to fly, your other powers will manifest with time. But you, you will be our messenger." There's a slight pause in his speech. "And in time you may get to see your American soldier again. He was a great asset, you delivered to us the best friend of Captain America, did you know that fräulein? So rest now, because soon the real work will begin." Zola chuckles, and then there is a sharp pain from a needle before I lose consciousness again.

Waking up this time, the pain has dulled considerably. At least enough for me to stand up. Sitting down isn't an option with the huge wings attached to my back. I gently reach out to stroke the feathers and draw my hand back immediately when I realize I don't only feel the sensation of touch on my fingertips but from the wings as well. Zola's words from his prior visit ring in my head, have they really made me an angel? And if so I can't imagine it will be one of peace and mercy, only death and destruction. Although what does it matter what they did, a blessing or a curse does it make a difference? They took me from my home, my parents, everything I ever knew. My parents must be worried sick. How long have I even been gone? Do they think I died? With the war young women disappearing from families and never coming back isn't completely unheard of.

The following weeks or months that followed, it became impossible to keep track of time, were a combination of intense training, experimentation, and torture. At some points I would be put to sleep only to wake up somewhere new. As time went on Zola disappeared only to be replaced by new scientists for a small time. I began to listen in whenever possible to try and figure out what they were doing to me. I was able to get bits and pieces every so often, something about stones one time and serums another time. Even with the knowledge I would gain I had no way of piecing together what it actually meant.

When Zola returned he seemed more determined to get me up to his "standards". Everything increased from the experimenting to the training regime. It became easier to use the so called gifts Zola had given me. The wings could retract into my body and emerge on command, albeit painfully. Aside from my flight the wings proved to have the same properties of vibranium, resisting any explosions or gunfire I faced. Other abilities continued to emerge whenever I endured enough of Zola's torture, his favorite being electrocution. The development of mild telepathy and mental manipulation proved to be his favorite.

"Fräulein, I have a surprise for you today. A reward if you will." Zola began as he led me down various halls. He opened a large meta door and led me inside. "I believe I told you that I would let you see your American soldier at some point. Well here he is." Zola laughed, it sounded cruel and his reasoning for that was obvious.

The same soldier I had rescued from the river was restrained in a chair. One arm was now replaced with a metal one. He was awake but the mouth guard kept him from talking. His eyes darted frantically between me and Zola. I rushed forward and reached out to touch him only for Zola to stop me.

"I wouldn't do that dear fräulein, you see not only have we improved you but him as well. He was my test subject before you ever met him and you brought him back to me again."

"No, no. I never...." I pause, my breath shaky. "I tried to save him, you took him, took me!" I ball my fingers so tightly in a fist that my nails cut into my palms. "It was you." I turn to Zola, glaring.

"Oh fräulein, you only hurt your dear soldier." Zola sneers at me before pressing a button that sends vicious shocks of electrocution through the chair the american was sitting in.

"Stop! Please stop it! You're hurting him!" I cry out desperate as I watch him thrash in the chair. I drop to my knees, "Please..." I beg weakly turning to Zola, "what do you want me to do, just please stop"

"You can stop this you know, just reach into his mind. Have him do whatever we tell you and we won't hurt him either." Zola looks down at me. "You will be his handler and his weapon. An omen of the destruction he will inflict.