Forgotten

Prologue

It was dark out with barely enough light for the large figure to find his way towards the building ahead. Almost wading through the thick snow of Siberia. His hair was a dark brown and while his shoulders were small, he was quite large in terms of height. It had barely been a year since the blip and this man had just barely gotten his old life back, having been a part of the population that turned to dust.

He reached the building and typed in a complex pin code before the door clicked open and he stepped inside.

He was greeted by an unfamiliar face who spoke with a familiar voice, "took you long enough."

"I arrived the fastest I could." The man's voice was rough as though it had not been used often and in a heavily accented English, "you told me to arrive by darkness."

The other man, this one stout in size nodded briskly, his hands clenched around a small book. "It no longer matters; I assume you know the circumstances of this meeting?"

The tall man nodded in agreement his eyes set upon the tattered book in the other man's hand. Without a word the stouter man turned and marched back towards another complex keypad where he had a fingerprint scan before this door too, clicked open.

Following, the tall man stepped inside the second room. The room was large, circular and contained merely a large contraption in the centre that resembled a chair, surrounded by instruments that looked like they had been pulled straight out of medieval history textbooks. Three other people stood in the room talking in hushed voices as if to keep their conversation private.

The stout man turned to the taller man and held up the book. It was a notebook about a5 in size with a read leatherbound cover that was burnt and tattered as though someone had tried to discard it via fire. The tall man took the book and opened it to the bookmarked page, this page had been taped together rather hastily in a desperate attempt to save the words written there.

He translated the Russian in his head as he read the pages notes.

The stouter man cleared his throat impatiently, "well? Write down the translation!"

The taller man glanced up from the pages, his restless fingers pulling at the tattered cover, undoubtedly turning black from the charred leather. He took a piece of paper from the table beside him and wrote down the translation in the shortest way he could.

He finished and felt a chill run down his spine as the stout man leaned over his shoulder and read the words that were scribbled on the paper, his lips turned upwards in a smile, "thank you," he said, "for your service."

There was a loud bang as the dark haired Russian man crumpled to the ground off the chair, a hole in his stomach, blood seeping into his neatly tied jacket. His mouth opened in surprise, eyes glazed over.

The group of men took no notice as the stouter man leant over the top of the near dead victim and put his lips as close to his ear as he could muster.

The last words the dark haired man heard before everything faded to black and he lived no longer...

"Hail, Hydra..."

A/N
This is cross posted on ao3 if you prefer that format and will be updated a lot more regularly over there as well :)

(Link In bio)