"Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win."

Stephen King

1991

              The metal and plexiglass cage around her clattered as she was thrown against it. The searing pain of her shoulder having been ripped out of the socket left her blinded for a few seconds and distracted her from the other throbbing pains over her whole body. She wanted to fight back, to defeat them and bring them to their knees in order to show her worth, but this was a fight she would never win because she had no worth to them. 

               Though she had been trained to fight and kill, no longer a frail being with bones jutting out throughout her body as she had been in the past, she was nothing compared to these men and women. The Death Squad was one that lived up to its name, and they had not even been given the Super Soldier Serum that they had been promised. No, they were using Ophelia as a bait dog just for the hell of it, for the training it would give them. But it was not to train them to be physically stronger or better fighters, but more violent killers. 

             They liked to cause her pain.  

              She had the serum, it made her fast, diligent, and strong. But she had a weakened pseudo-serum inside of her, HYDRA's attempt to make what Steve Rogers had; it had been created not long after Captain America started making headlines, and she had been the test subject. Always in the shadows of those stronger and greater than she was, Ophelia held no ground and had no power in this dungeon she called her home. 

            But she still got herself up on her feet after each time she was knocked down upon the concrete that was stained with her blood. Shaking on hands and knees, Ophelia forced herself to grab onto the metal bars that imprisoned her to help her to her feet. There was an irony in relying on the one thing that was ensuring her beating was not ended with her running away like a coward. Her left arm was useless, and when she got back to a stand, she brought her right hand up to protect her bruised and swelling face.

           It was the blonde who came at her then, bringing her arm around and landing a blow to Ophelia's good shoulder, knocking her arm out of the way. Ophelia backed up to avoid the next punch, but found herself against the wall of the cage once again. There was two of them in the cage, even HYDRA knew that sending in all five would be a poor idea if they wanted Ophelia alive at the end of this, but two was one too many for her. This was not the first time Ophelia had been subjected to this sort of torture, and it was not the first time she had been pitted against someone like this; she didn't remember being hunted down by the Winter Soldier, but HYDRA did. Though there were different people running the place now, each new generation of people treated her the same.

             She was unable to avoid the blow to her temple, and found herself on the ground again, blood splattered over the ground, spittle making it stringy. There was blood over her cheek, blood coming down from her split eyebrow. She gritted her teeth, about to stand up again, when she was kicked in the ribs by the man who was also in the cage. Rolling over onto her side, Ophelia scrambled to get out of the way of the sudden ambush, but was grabbed by the man. He pulled her arms back and she choked out a scream as the swollen, out-of-socket shoulder seared in pain. She brought her leg up to kick the woman coming at her, but her leg was easily pushed out of the way and the pummeling began once again. Shots to the ribs mostly, and some to the face, until Ophelia hung limp in the man's arms, not a whimper or plea to stop coming from her swollen lips.

            The man released her and Ophelia crumpled to the floor, their footsteps were unaltered, showing no tiredness after their relentless beating of her. The metal door of the cage scraped along the concrete, reminding her that she was not dead yet, but that the torture wasn't over either. Two men entered and lifted Ophelia up off of the ground. One at her shoulders, the other at her feet, they took her from the room and tossed her into her own cell, the only medical attention they gave her was to put her shoulder back in place so that she may be able to fight again. After a few hours- Ophelia had slept through most of the time that passed- a woman came in and stitched some of her wounds, but said nothing to her.

              They gave her Rapture only because she would likely die without it, and then they filled her with toxins she couldn't name. Whether it was a good thing or not, these unfamiliar toxins gave her a faster healing time, and within a week she was ready to fight again. Physically, not mentally, because she knew that she was going to lose again. Would it simply be week after week like this until one fight she didn't recover? 

            When the Death Squad was given the Super Soldier Serum, would they still waste their time fighting her? Ophelia didn't understand why they did this to her, but suspected it was to remind her that she was on the bottom of the food chain here. An underlying prejudice against her that went further than her memories extended. Their hatred for her was caused by an unknown factor to her.

             At the end of the week, Ophelia was given another dose of Rapture. It ran through her veins like nothing else in the world, it reached parts of her mind that she didn't even know existed. She could taste it upon her tongue and it gave her the courage to step out of her cell and follow behind the guard that was bringing her to that familiar metal cage. She stood at the door, watching as the Death Squad stared her down. A few ignored her, others grimaced at her, and it was the woman who turned her nose up at Ophelia. Ophelia was not like them, and just like the runt of the litter, would probably die trying to fend for herself without any support from the others. They were ruthless cats, and she was a lone mouse trapped in a corner; one which knew it would die inside the cage and yet still fought day after day.

           This time there was someone else there; Ophelia knew the Winter Soldier from missions, though there had been very little communication and interaction between the two. Somewhere deep down she felt something stir inside of her as she felt his eyes upon her, a darkness within them that frightened her to her core. Once having been partners, though it was on rare occasion, Ophelia knew what he was capable of, and was more frightened of him than the entire Death Squad combined. His metal arm crossed over with his human arm that was covered in a black sleeve. His metal arm was rarely covered, and it created a crisscross of silver and black, almost as if showing two sides of the man. HYDRA weapon, and something else that Ophelia couldn't pin point.

           This time, her fight started against only one person; he was tall and muscular like they all were. His dirty blonde hair was messy, his eyes were filled with laughter as he studied Ophelia like she was some joke. Fighting her was not going to prove his worth, but he was going to do it anyways. 

          Ophelia brought her hands up and began to shift on the spot, bouncing side to side and ducking the first punch thrown at her. He brought his leg into a roundhouse kick and hit Ophelia in the hip. As she staggered away, recovering quickly from the kick, she came at him with rapid speed. She was faster than him, smaller and able to navigate quickly. But she did not do well in enclosed spaces where she constantly backed herself against the metal cage. She threw a few punches at his abdomen, he blocked most, but she landed a few and felt as though she might last a little while longer than usual.

            She ducked under another punch and made sure not to corner herself, and watched in horror as another man was added to the cage. Her shoulders dropped slightly as she looked aghast at them, gaping at the cruelty but knowing it would not change anything. The second man came at her full force, his arms wrapping around her hips and bringing her down against the concrete floor. She felt all her organs slam against each other, her ribs crack and her spine bruise all the way down every vertebrae as she hit the ground. A groan of agony came from her lips as she tried to catch her breath, but it did not seem to reach her. Her lungs burned as she tried to breathe, and then finally she was able to suck in air; even though it had only been a few seconds, it felt like minutes without air.

            They began to kick her while she was down, and she closed her eyes to try and subdue the pain. She was able to take the beating until the blonde man lifted her up, pinned her to the metal cage so that the bars were pressed between her shoulder blades, bringing back old pain from her sore shoulder, and new pain as well. His hands wrapped around her throat and he began to suffocate her, less and less air getting through to her burning lungs, her vision fading as she writhed. Her feet were off of the ground, her boots clanged against the metal, and out of everything she could see, her eyes landed on the Winter Soldier outside of the cage. A distressed look upon his face quickly changed to anger, and he raised his head a little bit higher.

           "Enough!" He shouted in Russian, everyone stopping as it was rare to hear him speak to begin with. 

          The blonde Death Squad member released Ophelia and she fell to the ground, gasping her air, bruises already forming around her neck. She was on her knees with both of her hands in front of her to steady herself. She looked over at the man who had stopped her torture, but shaking in fear of what was going to come next. She had only been seconds away from death, why couldn't they just let her die? 

         The Winter Soldier uncrossed his arms, the metal one gleaming ominously in the poor lighting. His hand curled into a fist for a split second, and released as he flexed his hand. Looking as though he were battling something in his own mind, he quickly recovered and no one noticed his actions except for Ophelia. Her vision blurred from having been near death only seconds ago, she was still able to see in his body language that something was wrong. 

           It was Vasily Karpov that spoke next. "What is it, Soldier?"

           "You should not waste their efforts on her." He spoke smoothly, with flawless Russian. His eyes were on Ophelia, scrutinizing and demeaning. "Letting them use her as a bait-dog isn't going to make them stronger."

           "What do you suggest?" Karpov was interested in what the Winter Soldier had to say; though he was under Karpov's control and command, the Winter Soldier was a force to be reckoned with. People listened to him when he was on missions, people obeyed him even when they were there to keep him under control. 

           "Use me," he said, then his eyes met with Ophelia's. "She's weak, meager compared to these soldiers. Use her where you can, but she is no good for anyone inside that cage unless you want her dead. If you want her dead, just kill her already."

          Ophelia was dragged out of the cage feeling belittled and embarrassed, and in went the Winter Soldier.