Hellbird

Torment

Hellbird P.O.V.

The metal door to the base swung open, screeching on its hinges. I folded my wings tightly against my spine and walked inside, completely ignoring the guards and agents roaming the halls or stationed at their posts. Traveling through the winging concrete corridors I stopped at another metal door. The guards wordlessly stepped out of my way and I opened the door and walked in.

The same man from before stood at the center of the room. He had his back to me and I stopped a few feet away from him. He turned around, studying me with ice cold blue eyes. He radiated an air of boredom and disappointment. Somehow he must have already learned about my failure to capture or eliminate The Winter Soldier. That didn't surprise me, he had his ways of getting information.

My gaze stayed focused on the concrete wall past him as he studied me. He slowly walked closer to me. I barely knew him, but something about him unnerved me. That was rare for me and it scared me. I shoved my fear into the dark corner of my mind that I banished all of my emotions to. It cleared my mind and kept me focused, they had taught me that.

¨Mission report." He commanded.

I didn't hesitate as I responded. "The target escaped. The Avengers captured him." I said, my voice just as level and emotionless as my gaze.

"You know how we respond to failure. Don't you?" He asked.

A sick smile began to twist his expression. I suppressed a shudder, remaining still. I did know, and it was nothing good. I clenched my jaw and tried to prepare myself for whatever hellish experience came next .

The man pulled a gun from a holster at his side. He held it up, aiming it at me. I didn't move, accepting the punishment for my failure.

¨Do not fail us next time." he commanded and his smiled widened.

He pulled the trigger, and I grit my teeth. The explosive sound of the gunshot echoed around the concrete room. Again and again. I didn't move my arms from their places at my sides, knowing if I even moved a muscle he would shoot me again. I allowed myself to glance down though.

Bright red orange blood was spreading across the front of my shirt. It dripped onto the cold concrete floor and sizzled as it hit, sending little wisps of steam into the air. The twisting red orange colors were mesmerizing. My blood was far from normal but they knew that. They had changed me in the first place.

The firey blood scalded my skin as it flowed from my wounds. I clenched my jaw, my teeth grinding against each other as I tried to bear the pain. The man gestured at two guards by the door to take me away. The guards each grabbed one of my arms and dragged me out of the room.

My vision spun as the bloodloss began to take it's toll on my body. We made it to a door and the guards swung the thick metal door open and shoved me roughly into the cell. I fell to my knees and the door swung shut behind me.

I collapsed onto my side. My flaming blood eventually stopped flowing out onto the floor of the cell. Pulling my sticky shirt away from the wound I examined it, forcing myself through the haze of pain that blurred my vision.

The bullet wounds were already slowly knitting themself back together.

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3rd person P.O.V.

The room went quiet as Bucky stepped in. Each member of the team turned to look at him. Natasha studied him calmly, though nobody was really good at discerning her thoughts or feelings so who knows what was going on in her head. Sam and Clint watched him a bit warily. Steve smiled reassuringly. Bruce looked downright nervous. Tony glared in Bucky's direction. Pepper kept a hand on Tony's arm, trying to keep him calm.