“тоска. ржаветы. семнадцати. дневных. печей. девять. доброжелательных. возвращения. на. родину. один. грузовой. автомобиль.”
The man’s voice wavers, his brows drawn together in some ignorant form of worry or concern.
“Buck, you still with me?”
His hand is outstretched, reaching for me in a way that isn’t threatening, but makes me withdraw a step nonetheless.
“Who the hell is Bucky?”
“What did you do to him?”
His screams are filled with anger.
But his eyes, they’re full of fear.
The man barks, his voice the sound of a knife grating against stone.
“Bucky, please. I know you’re in there. You always know when it’s me. Come on, pal. Please.”
The man is edging away from me, his shield hooked to his back.
He should be defending himself.
He is foolish to beg.
My fingers tighten around his trachea, the man hanging nearly limp in the air.
He tries to force out, my eyes narrowing as I stare him down.
“Soldier. Kill him.”
My handler orders, and I find myself staring into wide, pleading blue hues.
My voice echoes out to my surprise, my fingers letting go and dropping the blonde to the ground.
Crimson stains everything.
The deformed corpses litter the ground in piles of charred flesh.
My chest heaves as I try to breathe past the hysteria building within me, my eyes burning from the smoke.
His voice is impossibly soft, his hand touching my shoulder gently as I jerk away, shaking my head.
“No.. no don’t touch me..”
“I’m a monster.. don’t..”
“Buck, you saved my life.”
“By destroying countless others! I made them suffer, you heard their screams!”
Shaking my head, I turn away, my hands trembling.
“I don’t.. I don’t know how I’m supposed to.. to live with this..”
“I have to go.”
“Buck. Bucky, wait!”