Secretive - Bucky Barnes

60 || Exchange || 🔪

[Nova]
Not spending a second thought on what just happened, I decide to push my focus back to the reason I am in here: James's saving.

The corridors in here seem endless, the dead bodies I leave behind numerous. With every further step, my already broken patience runs thinner, and I cannot help myself but ask the others for the first time ever for my own behalf, how far they got. »Soon in district D.« Steve answers fastly, his deep voice shaking in between his panting. He must have already had some intense fighting.

»Busy to put down the idiots from district B.« Natasha states, her voice a little steadier, her killing style a little more indirect if the choice given.

»Got lost in district E, but I'm back on track and soon in district D, too.« Tony states. »Where are you? Any news?«

»Jonas's dead.« I whisper, voice somewhat choked like my biological brother's last words. But I move on, and almost am sure the others did not here any emotion at all, safe for the hoarseness.

»Did you...?« Steve asks, softer than a few seconds ago, his voice even a little spotted with pity.

Pity that I do not need. All I need is James. Get back to focus. »No. Gave him the option to flee or kill by my hand, chose to do it on his own. That's it. See you.«

And with that, I continue my lonely path. Corridor for corridor, fight for fight, death for death. In the meantime, someone put on the alarm, the red lights running circles in every corner I pass. Sirens wailing, I try not to concentrate on them all too much, instead keeping the eyes on what is in my front.

I almost reached said final part of the building, the part that would bring relief down on me crashing like a tsunami, when Steve's voice suddenly speaks up like the ominous vow of the devil, equally deep and rumbling. »He's not here.«

Stop and still, I stay in the middle of the corridor, right in between number five hundred and sixty-two, and five hundred and sixty-three. Hard breaths scratch my lungs from the inside, disbelief filling my body with a new kind of pain and panic. »What do you mean, he's not here?«

»He's not here.« he repeats, a little sterner than before. »Are you sure this is the right district? There are cells, but all of them are empty. Like no one lived in there in the first place, or ever touched a single thing.«

»Am I sure? Of course, I am sure! He must be there, somewhere. Continue searching. They could not have come that far; you must see a blood trail or something. I'll be there soon, I'll figure it out. I-«

The howling of gears and pipes interrupts me mid-sentence. I stand straight again, a little disorientated in the first seconds before realizing where the threatening noise finds its purpose. »Oh, Lord. Grab something to hold onto, quickly!«

And then, before I know it, I find myself in a free fall, the ground beneath my feet unmoving, therefore the entire block shifting downwards rapidly. So rapidly, I am freed from gravity, knocking the ceiling within the fracture of a second.

It only reduces speed shortly before we reach the destination, a few levels down underneath the surface. I had no time finding something to grab a hold on, so I land on the black-suited soldier I recently killed, the blood pouring from his cut throat dirtying my face. I know swiping would be no good, that I would only spread it, so I leave it just the way it is.

»What just happened?« Sam gets out in alarm, his own shock leaving its footprints in his middle-pitched, usually relaxed voice.

»I-I don't know. Felt like we were transported into the cellar.« I answer, getting back onto my feet as fast as possible.