BLACK WIDOW

ruination

ruination
(n.)
the act or fact of ruining something or someone or of being ruined

•••

"failures lead to more failures."

•••

The pale colored car of the Starks' cut through the darkness of the bleak night as the drove down the going down the dirt road. Howard was paranoid, yes. But he was not nearly as bad as his wife was. Maria hired one of the best mission operatives of the time to protect she and her husband.

But little had she known, the efforts had failed. Just as Natalia told her it may.

And he was there.

Waiting.

Waiting for just this moment. The inconvenience arrived at a very convenient time. Just long enough for him to knock the Black Widow unconscious.

As the engine of his motorcycle roared to life, he looked over to see the Widow laying on the ground unmoving and bleeding from her nose. He didn't know who she was, why she'd want to kill him, or how she'd know he was here.

But she was skilled. Skilled enough to find him. Skilled enough to rival him. Skilled enough to put a little fear in his bones.

And she had called him something. A name.

She had called him James. He had never had a name that he remembered. The Users had always called him Soldier. Though he only remembered one User, he was sure he had more in the past. The User spoke as though it was a known fact.

He spoke like most things were common knowledge. But not for him. Nothing was really common for him. He only knew what the User wanted him to know. No more. No less. And that was just how it needed to be. They were the Users and he was the device.

As he revved the engine a bit, he glanced back over to look at her again. The sight of her blood-stained and bruised porcelain skin made him feel somethings that he wasn't used to. If he had known the feeling or the word that they had erased from his memory, he would have known that he felt ashamed and sad. And her soft voice and crimson hair made him feel... comfortable? At home? He didn't know.

But he shook off the feeling and released the clutch, letting the bike speed off out of the tree line and into the road, right behind the Starks.

He added some gas to speed up beside them and slipped a dagger out of his belt, slashing the back tire. It was all one fluid motion that felt so very common.

That was what was common for the Winter Soldier. The fighting. He understood that. He always understood that. They never took that away from him. His knowledge of combat was the absolute only constant in his life.

The car did just as the Winter Soldier expected it to. It swerved out of place and hit a tree with the force of hundreds of pounds speeding 40 miles per hour. The couple probably would have died if he left them there. But he had to be sure. He had to finalize it. No witnesses.

The Winter Soldier turned around his bike and parked it next to the car, pointing towards the passenger door, leaving it on for light. He pushed the kickstand down and made his way to the trunk.

The package was the most important objective of the mission. Using his metal arm, he destroyed the lock and ripped open the truck, revealing a few luggage bags and a sleek black briefcase on top. A briefcase that was heavily guarded by locks. It was obviously the one he was looking for. The old man could have hidden it.

He pulled them off and lifted open the box, revealing five doses of electric blue super soldier serum. There they were.

He closed the case and left it in the back, for he heard the diver door open and someone fall out. He walked around to see a bloodied Howard Stark crawling towards him on his hands and knees.