BLACK WIDOW

zugzwang

zugzwang
(n.)
a situation where every possible move or decision is a bad one, or will result in damage or loss

•••

"The absence of love and belonging, there will always be suffering."

•••

Agonizing screams erupted in the dark room. Screams of a dead man. A ghost. Screams that would give the toughest of men nightmares. It echoed from the metal walls. This place was the ghost's hell.

Metal was everywhere. The walls. The tables. The various weapons lining the tables. The chair the middle with a large metal device connected to the metal ceiling that wrapped around the ghost of a man who was sitting in the metal chair in the center of the room. And even he was part metal. This was his prison. His mind was his prison.

His left arm matched the room with perfection. And on the shoulder was a blood red Soviet Star. The chains encased the metal arm in even more metal tokeep the demons of the ghost's hell safe from his fury. But his safety?

It didn't exist. Here, he went through the worst torture of all. His demons deny him a name. They deny him a even the smallest resemblance of life. He is even denied the sweet release of death.

He is not alive, nor is he dead. He is something between the two. It is worse than anything anyone could imagine, like light years next to miles. He is forced to do things. Things that he wouldn't even have been able to imagine when he was alive.Things against his family and friends. Against his country. His rights. His religion. Things against himself.

But does he know that? No. He is denied even his memories of when he was a human being.

And it was happening again. Once in a blue moon this ghost was permitted rest. And somehow, something would come back. Something stronger that the hell he was living in. Something purer. His mind would whisper to him.

Till the end of the line, it would say.

What did that mean? The ghost was certain that he didn't have the answers. His mind would continue to whisper, louder and louder. Then images would appear in flashes.

Bucky, it would whisper in a voice he almost recognized- it was at the very edge of his mind, almost intelligible.

Sergeant Barnes, it would plea. Then he'd see a man. Petite and blonde. Not from here. Not from Russia.

Steve, his mind would cry.

Fight it! his mind would beg.

Remember who you are! it pleaded with desperation.

Then he would hear the broken J-m-s

B-can-n Barnes. It was like static. Cutting in and out.

Sergeant, it would whisper. Remember. Please!

And then there would be flashes of a snowy ravine. A train. A falling sensation.