AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 6. Mind Control, 23. Begging, 24. Hunted Down, 25. Nightmares, Alt. 11. Suffocation, Alt. 29. Prison
Fandom: Marvel, Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, f!reader
Summary: When reactivated while infiltrating a HYDRA base, the Winter Soldier is now on the hunt for the two people Bucky cares most for in this world.
Word Count: 2171
TW: Character Death (or is it...?), Nightmares, Mind Control, Choking, Hunted Down, Chased
Notes: A huge thank you to @musings-of-a-rose for the ask that inspired this! 🥰 Also thank you so much @loverhymeswith for beta reading for me! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event
The snow had just begun to fall once more as The Asset entered the woods. Around him, the wild underbrush jutted out through blankets of undisturbed frost, and the bare trees stood like shadows against the moonlight. Anyone else may have paused to take in this haunting beauty, and yet, he stalked forward without the slightest hesitation. Beauty and nature meant nothing to him, especially on a night like tonight. Because tonight, the Winter Soldier was on a mission.
He continued deeper into the woods, his steady stride never wavering as he tracked his prey. Two SHIELD agents had infiltrated the base he had been guarding and, as they fled into the woods, his handlers ordered him to terminate them. For just a second, there was the slightest hitch in his march as a thought tickled at the back of his mind: He couldn’t remember anything before the order. It was as if time hadn’t existed until that moment.
But the thought disappeared as quickly as it had appeared and his steadfast pursuit continued. It didn’t matter anyway. He was made to follow commands and nothing else held any importance to him. So, even if this one order was the only memory he had, that was enough.
The Asset reached a small clearing in the trees and paused, listening intently to the silent landscape around him as his eyes scanned the area for any indication of where his prey had gone.
To his left, there was a set of heavy boot tracks imprinted into the snow and the underbrush had been haphazardly pushed aside leading in a clear path. Small splatters of blood stood out against the pure white canvas further illuminating the trail. It was all so blatantly obvious that even someone with absolutely no training would be able to spot it. It was the sort of trail left by either an amateur or someone deliberately attempting to draw his attention.
To his right, however, the snow had barely been disturbed to the point he had to kneel in order to truly see anything in the pale moonlight. And even then, only the faintest of markings could be made out in the densely packed snow, boot prints that could have only been made with the gentlest of care.
Most hunters would take one look at the first trail and charge after the prey in that direction. Whatever had gone that way was apparently hurt, possibly to the point of not being able to mask their escape route. However, the Winter Soldier was no ordinary hunter and he instantly recognized the trails for what they were. The pair of agents had split up and they were trying to draw him towards the stronger of the two.
He stood and resumed his hunt—taking the path to the right.
Though they had escaped before he was able to get more than a glance at them, The Asset had identified the agents as a man and a woman. The man was taller, broader, and most assuredly stronger than his companion. In fact, he may even pose a challenge to The Asset in hand-to-hand combat, something that he had rarely encountered.
However, everyone had a weakness. And by the way the man had shielded the woman and aided in her escape into the woods, it was clear that she could very well be that weakness. By tracking her down, The Asset would not only be able to take out the easier target first, but if he captured her, he would have leverage over the man. A leverage he could use to take out the man as well.
Suddenly, The Asset picked up the faint sound of panting up ahead and he lengthened his stride. Within a few moments, he caught a glimpse of the woman through the trees as she hurried as quickly as she could while still creating those faintest of footprints. However, she must have caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye because her head whirled in his direction and their eyes locked across the snowy woodland.
They both froze in place as they held one another’s gaze. And slowly, her wide-eyed panicked expression softened and, inexplicably, she gave him a cautious smile as her eyes sparkled with a hopeful gleam. She mouthed something he couldn’t understand but it ultimately didn’t matter. He didn’t need to know what she had said in order to complete his mission.
But as he took a step towards her, the terror instantly returned to her face and she bolted, no longer concerned about masking her tracks. She fled into the trees as fast as her legs would carry her but it was going to be a futile effort. She was no match for the power of the Winter Soldier.
He took off after her, weaving in and out of the trees with ease. As he began to close the distance between them, the woman pulled out a gun and pointed it at him. There was a momentary hesitation….then the sound of the gun shattered the quiet of the night.
The Asset easily blocked the bullet with his left arm and continued running. The woman let off a few more shots but he continued to either avoid or deflect them. Possibly because she wasn’t able to aim as she fired while still running, but he found it strange none of the shots were targeting his head or chest. Even if he slipped up and a bullet did manage to hit him, with their trajectory, they would only cause minimal damage. They would definitely slow him down but they would not do enough to stop him for good.
As he closed the distance, he heard the recognizable click of the trigger being pulled on an empty gun and the woman swore. Tossing the gun to the side, she reached for a second weapon, but it was too late. He had caught up to her.
Reaching out, The Asset grabbed the back of her tact vest and hurled her into the side of the nearest tree. She slammed into it with a sickening thump and the sound of breaking bones followed. Curled at the base of the tree, the woman screamed as she grabbed her left shoulder, her arm jutting out at an unnatural angle. But that didn’t stop her from trying to escape him.
As he stalked towards her, she used her feet to push herself back a few feet until she bumped up against a tree. Looking up at him, tears streaming down her face, she begged as he approached, “Bucky, stop! Don’t do this, please! Baby, this isn’t you, not anymore. The Winter Soldier is gone. You’re James Buchanan Barnes—you’re Bucky—and you don’t have to do this. Just try to remember. Please, baby, please come back to me. I love you! Just remember!”
But her words meant nothing to him.
The Asset’s metal fingers closed around her throat and he lifted her off the ground. Her legs began to thrash frantically in the air as her fingers on her right hand clawed at his own. It was an instinctual act, her body attempting to free her windpipe despite the obvious uselessness of her nails on Vibranium. She tried to choke out more pleas for her life, but all she could manage were a few raspy hisses. Her eyes were bulging in her head and The Asset watched as her blood vessels broke and clouds of crimson leached into the whites of her eyes.
Soon however, her clawing and writing slowed to little more than a twitch as her body began to shut down from lack of oxygen. And just as he felt one last desperate gasp building in her throat, he tightened his grip. He felt the bones and cartilage in her neck give way with a loud crunch and her body instantly went limp in his grasp.
The Asset heard someone calling out a name from behind him and the sound of something large crashing through the trees. He turned just as the other agent he had been sent to track down burst into the clearing. The man staggered to a stop as he saw his companion still dangling from The Asset’s hand.
As The Asset opened his fist, the woman dropped in a lifeless heap at his feet. In a mock imitation of her fall, the man dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face. As he stared up at The Asset—not in fear or in defiance, but in agony—he whispered, “Bucky…. What did you do?”
The Asset reached into his belt, pulled out his gun, and aimed it directly between the man’s eyes as he said, “Who the hell is—”
Bucky bolted up from his resting place on the floor, chest heaving as he gasped for air, a cold layer of sweat coating his body. Looking around frantically, his breathing slowed slightly as he took in the sterile room around him and he remembered where he was. He had been sleeping. It had been a dream.
Collapsing back down with a sigh, Bucky stared up at the ceiling. He scrubbed his hand over his face as he attempted to wipe the vision of your lifeless body from his mind, but it didn’t work. No matter how hard he tried or what else he focused on, you were still there, hanging limply in his grasp as he heard the crunch—
Sick to his stomach and struggling to get his heart to stop racing, Bucky climbed unsteadily to his feet. However, he had barely taken two uneasy steps before he reached the wall and was forced to turn, take a few steps, and turn again. For the most part, he had become accustomed to his tiny room—after all, it was still a vast improvement over the cryostasis chamber he had spent the majority of the last fifty years in. However, at night he wished he had some way to work off his adrenaline-fueled energy. Not that he really wanted to go back to sleep. Sleep meant dreaming, and dreaming meant repeating this cycle all over again with the same agonizing scene playing in his head.
Because it wasn't just a dream…it was a memory.
Six months ago, a HYDRA agent had gotten ahold of his trigger words and reactivated the Winter Soldier when Bucky tracked him down along with you and Steve. Trapped once more within his programming, The Asset had been ordered to find and eliminate both of the SHIELD agents that posed a threat to HYDRA. Steve was able to bring Bucky back just before he could complete his mission, and he re-emerged from the conditioning to find you lying at his feet—your throat crushed and tears still staining your face.
You who had never given up on him no matter what. You who had never looked at him with fear or pity, only kindness and understanding. You who constantly reassured him that he would never hurt you. You who he loved more than life itself.
You who he had murdered in cold blood.
Once he had been reexamined and deemed no longer a threat, SHIELD had agreed to let Bucky go and chalk your murder up to “collateral mission damage” but he had refused. He was a danger to every person he was around, especially the few remaining people he still had whom he cared about. The fact it took your death for him to finally accept that fact was devastating but he was never going to let it happen again. That was why he voluntarily offered himself over to SHIELD’s custody so he could pay for all of his previous crimes. SHIELD was more than happy to oblige him and they immediately confiscated his Vibranium arm and threw him in The Raft. Bucky just hoped they never let him out.
Steve hadn’t agreed with his decision—he still didn’t—and had tried everything he could to talk Bucky out of it. He pleaded for him to reconsider, that it had been the Winter Soldier who had ended your life, not Bucky himself. But Steve didn’t understand. No one did.
It didn’t matter where he spent the remainder of his life. From the moment your life ended, he had been given a life sentence of endless torment. Bucky might not have been in control that night, but that didn’t mean he didn’t remember what happened. That he didn’t hear your voice sobbing as you begged him to remember you, remember that you loved him. That he didn’t feel your fingernails snapping as they tried to dig into his metal hand in a futile attempt to pry it away from your throat. That he didn’t watch the last beautiful spark in your eyes flare once before fading into oblivion as he crushed your neck.
No. His mind had already become his prison before he was placed behind bars. And this time, there were no magic words anyone could say to bring him back and allow him to escape from it.
Sometimes writing out events I want to happen in a dnd campaign seriously helps me figure out how a monster acts and what it looks like for the victim(s), and how I want to describe the monster in question
CW below the cut: Slasher horror, being hunted, minor gore, 2nd person pov
You trek into the woods, eyeing the setting sun as the general's warning still lingers in your mind. A creature is somewhere out there, lurking between the twisting trees, but what could give even the hardened war hero pause? You shudder even thinking about it, your mind conjuring up images of giant spiders and packs of hungry wolves, gnashing teeth and slimy claws. Glancing toward your companions, you can tell they feel the same, hands resting on sheathed weapons and senses pointed out past the road, into the treeline. Finding nothing but the rustling of wildlife and the chirping of birds, and then silence as the last licks of the sun's fire are snuffed out by the horizon.
Briefly, you debate with your companions over whether to make camp for the night in the woods or press onward. On one hand, sleep makes one vulnerable. On the other, movement makes one a target. And you've still got at least another day and a half before you're out of the woods -- in more ways than one. Ultimately, you decide to make camp, setting up a watch to ease some of the anxiety of your surroundings. You end up taking first watch, being the least tired of the group, and the most concerned about being hunted. Or, well. The most used to being hunted, at least.
Your mind wanders as attention lulls into contemplation, walking through the information you have and the mysteries you've yet to unravel. Were the things in the caverns beneath the lake real? Did the ancient serpent speak truth in her dying breaths? Was her following truly not the only group out there?
The slowly dimming embers of the fire twinkle in your eyes like dying stars, when the snap of a twig brings you back to reality. Quickly, you stand and scan the trees, but find nothing in the darkness of the slim moon.
Another snap, this one bigger, from the opposite direction. You whip around, catching the glint of a malevolent eye for just a moment, red as hot coals. Not taking your eyes off the trees, you slowly move to wake your companions, hissing that's there's danger, somethings here, get up. Most of them begin to rise, groggy, reaching for their weapons nonetheless.
'Where?' One asks, hushing their voice and heaving their hammer.
'I don't know.' You admit through gritted teeth, desperately scanning the trees. You're not sure whether you want to have been hallucinating or not.
'Great, it's invisible,' Your gnome companion snarks.
'I saw it, I definitely did.' You insist, gripping your scimitar, 'I just don't know where it went.'
Your friend opens their mouth to respond, interrupted by a low, hissing growl from somewhere in the woods. The sound sends shivers up your spine as you feel the normally tepid night air drop into near-freezing temperatures in an instant.
Again, you see it, movement somewhere close, this time a flash of ghostly white between the trees, rusting the undergrowth.
'There!' You point to try and follow it as it disappears again.
'What in khyber is that thing?' Your friend draws his bow.
'If it scares the general, something bad.' You swallow hard. Doubt and fear begin to creep into your bones like the cold that's now fogging your breath and frosting the ground.
Another growl, much closer, from the opposite direction of the last. Then the ripping of tree bark, the snapping of branches, the glint of a single glowing red eye, flashing from this way and that as the thing appears to circle you faster and faster, unnaturally so. It approaches the treeline, never once being seen on the road though it swaps sides over and over, and then, as you think you catch the glint of dying flame on needlepoint teeth, the forest falls silent again, the darkness still, as if frozen.
One moment, two, three pass, and... nothing. It's as if it never existed.
'Is it.. gone?' One of your companions dares to ask.
Your eyes remain fixed on the darkness in the trees. No. This isn't over. You know what it's like to be hunted. You know what this is.
'It's playing chicken.' You whisper, barely breathing, 'It's waiting for us to bolt.'
'Well, do we?' Your companions look at you. They're all as scared as you are. That's good, at least.
'I-' You search for any sounds in the trees, desperate to find what lurks in the unknown. 'I don't know.' The words sink in your stomach like rocks.
'G r e a t.' Someone groans. 'So glad we're gonna __die__ out here.'
'Would you shut up?'
The group begins to bicker, quickly becoming background noise as you keep your senses cast out into the woods. Searching. Waiting.
A fallen leaf drifts gently down onto your shoulder. Strange, as you pick it up you tilt your head back to look up, it's too early for-
'Guys.'
The fear strangling your voice quiets your friends. You feel them look toward you, then slowly follow your gaze.
'Run.'
In a clatter of metal and gear and a blur of movement, the thing lunges down from the branches. There's a scream, but you can't tell if it's from you, your companions, or from the creature, your mind and body solely focused on keeping you alive.
Cold breath bites at your heels and back. It moves silently aside from large claws digging into the road and it's heavy breath as it sprints after you. You can barely see your companions in the dark and panic but right now, there's no time for a head count.
Another scream, this one definitely inhuman, as a wall of ice crawls up the trees along the road, your feet smashing panes of glassy ice as you run.
You hear it get closer behind you. Feel it closing in. You catch a crystal of ice for just a second and immediately claws colder than ice rip across your back.
The next scream is yours. You regain your footing as you catch a glimpse of snapping jaws, feeling the rush of air as they snap shut inches from your throat. You slash blindly, desperately, with your scimitar, feeling the blade sink into something and hearing the parting of flesh, but you don't have time to register much more than that before you're sprinting again, attempting to put as much distance between you and it as possible.
An arrow whizzes past your ear, another scream echoing behind you as you hear it hit its mark, but still, it pursues you, claws raking gashes in the packed dirt.
One, two, three more arrows fly by and land with dull thunks, the glow of a starlit spell not far behind as it fires off and sears into the creature's stark white skin. Only then does it falter, giving pause and screaming after you as the road breaks into a large clearing.
You stagger to a halt in the center of the clearing, attempting to find your breath as your heart pounds in your chest. You manage to look up and grab a quick, if blurry, head count, and find everyone here. About as beat as you are, but alive at least.
You glance back the way you came, catching the distant silhouette of the spectre that hunts you. It's single glowing eye peers from a stark white face, it's body upright but wrong, a grotesque figure that leans forward toward stretched hands. You make out a long tail and large wings on its back before it disappears into the darkness under the trees again, the malevolent red glow blinking out of existence as though it was never there, taking with it the cold.
You're left shivering in the warm, summer night air. Whatever it was, it'll be back. You're sure of it.
