Toska
"At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining."
[Age of Ultron]
[Civ...
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Toska
It was cold and it was dark. That was all he knew. Pietro wasn't sure why the armed men had come into his room so early, forcing his onto his knees as the secured his hands behind his back. He was only knew that he had not been in this section of the base before. The numbers on the walls he could catch a brief glimpses of were unfamiliar and far from where he knew he and Wanda were kept.
His movement was finally halted when he came before a large metal door. It was wretched open by the guard beside him while he was released from his bindings by another. He wasn't exactly sure what the soldier behind him muttered before giving him a swift shove in the back and sealing the door closed behind him, but it sounded like a quick "good luck".
Pietro rubbed his wrists as he looked around. Like most of the compound, the room was built out of gray, cement slabs and dim lights. Because of the poor lighting, he almost missed the figure in the corner of the room. Crouched into a ball, a dark hood pulled over its face to conceal all of its features, Pietro couldn't be sure if the person under the coat was even alive.
"Hello," he tried.
The figure moved, trying to shift even further into the corner.
"Are you alright?" he asked, taking a tentative step toward the figure. At this they lifted their head, revealing a young girl with startling silver eyes. Pietro smiled and took another step forward. Her eyes widened as she gasped, pulling a small knife from the inside of her coat.
"Woah!' Pietro said quickly, holding up his hands. "I'm not going to hurt you. I don't want to, not at all." Her expression became worried, almost guilty, as she looked down at her shaking hands.
"I know," she muttered, her voice low.
The door behind Pietro opened suddenly, echoing around the room. Strucker stood in the doorway, his hands folded behind his back. The girl stood up immediately, brushing off her coat as she stood.
"Maximoff, I see you have met our girl," Strucker said, holding out his hand.
"What is this?" Pietro questioned quickly.
"Practice," he said simply. "For her more than you." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Too soft." He continued. "Anyway, get on with it. The faster this happens, the faster we bandage you up."
"Wait," said Pietro as Strucker tried to leave the room. "You want me to fight this girl?"
Strucker frowned. "Of course."
"I will not do it. I will not harm her."
Strucker laughed. "What in the time that you have been here gave you the idea that you had a choice?"
"You have had me fight men. People with years of training." He turned pointing sternly at the girl. "She is a child, and I will not harm her."
"It's either her or Wanda, and I promise that none of my men will pull any punches," Strucker sneered. Pietro's lip rose to spit another retort.
