Realization

02

He had been transported from the outskirts of La Louvière, Belgium to Staten Island, NYC. He can remember his previous location, it was one of the home bases, so having woken up in America was unusual, the fact that five other experiments had been shot was another unsettling factor that made him more than hesitant to seek out the handlers. Were the shooters enemy or were they HYDRA? Had the soldiers become too difficult to handle? He knew he was valuable, so he was hoping after years of service for HYDRA they would not murder him in cold blood.

But perhaps sleep in death was sweeter than electrocution.   

No, he wasn't supposed to ponder over it. He wasn't. He had to remain unseen. Find the handlers. But who were the handlers?

One of the emergency bases were in Cleveland, so that's where he was planning to head off to. It would take 7 days if he walked, 11 hours if he took a bus and around 8 if he drove a car. But he was not going to run off without preparations, always be prepared.

He wasn't delaying the trip to buy food or bottles of water and snacks, no. He needed to somehow find a suitable car, preferably from an owner who is not home often and would not notice the stolen car for a while, more ammo and higher quality combat weapons. The base he had been in was completely empty, it wasn't even a proper base, but a simple warehouse and that fact itself made his skin crawl. He had been relieved to have found one of the experiments still wearing his agent attire. It was not just to remind himself that he was HYDRA, but it kept him cool in hot weather conditions and warm in cooler temperatures.

The Soldier pulled the black scarf over his lower face, blending in with the shadows. No one would be able to see him, because no one dared to look into the shadows for too long. There was something about the darkness that made people wary, something about the silence that made them shudder.

Don't be seen, don't be seen, don't be seen.

And something about the feeling of being watched. The Soldier's bright, stony blue eyes were the only visible thing, like two bright yet awfully dull diamonds in the void.

He climbed the side of the building, getting on top of the roof with ease. He crouched down, the dips of his combat boots just barely on the roof as he peered down suspiciously. The night was loud and people down below were laughing, talking to each other obnoxiously. He didn't like the noise, it was a lot and it was bothering him. It was an uncontrollable factor, something that might make him lose his focus.

Be alert, be alert, stay focused, oставайся сфокусированным.

His blue orbs were keenly analyzing the people down. He tilted his head thoughtfully, cold eyes dancing from one person to another, making a mental health and danger statistics about each individual who might have looked a bit more dangerous than the rest. It was slightly relieving when he realized most didn't even reach to 10% of danger capacity.

But he listened and he listened carefully, his instincts were alert. When the day had turned into night, he felt more relaxed than in daylight because the night is the time most predators creep around.

He stood up from his crouched position after he had made sure nobody was following him. He stood completely still for nine seconds to study the large building in the distance, it was must have built recently, as the architecture of it was plain and simply put: ugly. As it towered over the whole city, he was sure it must belong to someone of wealth or utmost importance. He would do well to keep his distance, it must be heavily guarded.

He sat down, his legs dangling over the rooftop as he enjoyed the view. Or at least tried to enjoy, as hard as he tried, his shoulders were still stiff and the hoodie was too warm. The only solace he got was the safe feeling of a handgun hidden in his clothes and the knife in his boot. The weight of the knife was familiar, safe and reassuring.

He snapped his head right after hearing someone holler in excitement. He saw someone appearing over the building, an agile figure wearing a red and blue suit.

Danger level
unknown, can be close to 70-80%. Dangerous.

Removing the threat if necessary.
Fast and final, knife to the heart, take no risks. Unknown territory.

When Spider-Man appeared over the rooftop again, thinking he had seen someone trying to attempt suicide, the spot was empty. He rushed towards the edge, peeking down in fear he had been too late. He analyzed the streets below, realizing there were no crowds gathering to a horrid scene, no teenager snapping pictures or frightened civilians calling an ambulance that would not be of any help anymore.

But there was no one there.

He frowned behind the mask, not feeling his spider-senses go off as they did before, but there was something that made his skin crawl just slightly.

He was alone, his only companion the light breeze, darkness, and the guilty knowledge of realizing he had a quiz coming up the next day and he had not studied yet. Peter Parker webbed away, soaring over the city in search of someone to save. While the person who really needed it, stood in the shadows, blue eyes darkening as he was trying to understand the way everything worked now. What was this thing?

He left the building, deeming it too dangerous now. Whoever- whatever the thing was, would most certainly come back.

He left the roof hurriedly, stealthily parkouring down the side of the building to the alley. He walked through the night streets, leaving the building behind and making distance between himself and the tallest building in the city, knowing he was in a rush to collect his things and get away from the largely populated place. This was not safe, there were eyes everywhere. Ears everywhere.

The soldier stopped, stepping into the alley to gather his thoughts and be off the streets, away from prying eyes.
His head hurt.

But he needed to go. Needed to find the handlers. Needed to return to HYDRA. Needed to...

But did he really want to?

The soldier also wanted to stay, see if he could first find out who he was. What he was.

No, he could was not allowed to think like that. Why was he thinking? He shouldn't, why are there so many thoughts in his head, it was frustrating, it was making him mad. He didn't feel things, didn't bother to think for himself as most of the times he was on a tight leash, taking orders and not thinking them out himself. That was wrong, he could get punished.

But why would he want to go back then? Maybe they thought he was dead. Maybe he didn't have to find the handlers for them to use him on next missions.

Maybe he could kill them instead.