𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗣𝗛𝗘

𝘞𝘏𝘖 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘏𝘌𝘓𝘓 𝘈𝘙𝘌 𝘠𝘖𝘜?

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𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗬𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗔𝗚𝗢.

Many people asked themselves whether monsters are born or created, but the answer is still unknown. Is there such a thing as pure evil? We will never know.

We are quick to blame, quick to point fingers, but why don't we ask ourselves if maybe, just maybe, there's some light left in the people we call guilty? We don't even want explanations, we don't want to understand why they did what they did. But we need them to be guilty so that we could sleep better at night because the culprit has been caught. There's no room for mistakes, the justice shall be trusted blindly.

Believe and do not doubt.

For if you doubt, you might find something you can't understand. Something you don't want to know.

"Mommy?"

"Stay here and don't make a sound. Mommy is going to come back for you, okay?"

"Okay."

One.

Two.

Three.

Three sets of steps could be heard on the staircase and against the hardwood floor. Could there be more?

Four.

Yes, there's one more. There's four of them. They're coming closer, I can now hear their steps louder. Clearer. Are they looking for me?

They're here.

"Sir, there's a child here. A girl."

"And? What are you waiting for? Take her out."

"But sir—"

"Weren't my orders clear enough?"

"We are taking her to the orphanage."

We need somebody to blame. We need somebody who will take responsibility for this mess. Because if we don't have someone we can blame, we will start blaming ourselves for failure. This is why villains exist. So that the rest of us can have a clear conscience.

"Are you deaf?! I told you to kill her."

"It wasn't a question."

"I wasn't asking for permission."

But this is not the story of a villain. And it's not the story of a hero either.

𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗗𝗔𝗬.

Alarms were blasting off in the distance. With every second that passed, the smoke in the building was growing thicker. It was hard to breathe. Hard to see anything. Men with white coats were running left and right, desperately searching for a door, a window. An exit.

They were covering their nose and mouth with their elbows, but it didn't make that much of a difference. Their eyes were red and watery and they were all coughing.

What a bunch of fools. They looked like stupid ants from above. But there was no time to sit by and watch.

A shadowy silhouette joined the desperate scientists. She moved swiftly through the smoke, resembling a ballerina in the final act of the night. According to her calculations, she had about fifteen minutes left until they would either take the matter into their own hands or call for back-up. And she wasn't going to wait and see which option they chose.

She moved from one room to another, with the destination set it mind. It would've been easier if she had the plans of the building, but she was not going to complain about it.

This had to be it. There was only one door she didn't open by now, it had to be the one she was searching for.

Without even bothering to check whether it was locked or not, she lifted her leg in the air and kicked the latch lock, causing the door to swung open.

Once inside, she rushed to the archives. Her fingers were slowly gliding over the files, searching for the one she needed. It had to be here. It made perfect sense for it to be here.

"Don't move."

The threat was said in a shaky, scared voice, followed by the sound of a gun that had just been loaded.

"Put your hands up and turn around. Slowly."

A long sigh left her lips. Of course there had to be complications. Just as she was told, she lifted both of her hands in the air. She continued to read the tags of the files for as long as she could before she completely turned around to face a terrified scientist.

He was shaking so badly that he couldn't even hold the gun straight. Pathetic. She expected low security, but she didn't think it was that bad. He was definitely not a fighter, more like the head scientist who had a moment of bravery.

What this man didn't understand was that she had no time to play. Luckily for her, he was close enough. With a quick move, she grabbed his wrist and twisted it so that the gun he was holding was now facing upwards, making it impossible for her to get shot. She lifted her knee and hit the man in the stomach as hard as she could, pushing him backwards.

After she disarmed him, she turned her back on him for a short moment and reached for the file she came for.

He might not be string, but he was surely ambitious. By the time she took the file, he was already trying to reach for the gun he dropped and as much as she would have liked to teach him a lesson about the risks of playing the hero in unnecessary situations, she was still in a rush.

She stepped on his wrist and bent down so she could reach the man's level and looked him in the eyes.

"Who the hell are you?!" He asked through gritting teeth.

He wanted to at least take a good look at whoever was attacking their lab, but the mask she was wearing made it impossible for him to distinguish any of her features.

She scoffed.

"They call me Catastrophe."

Her fist collided to his face, knocking him out this time. He was surely not going to come after her and by the time he wakes up, she would be long gone.

She then rose to her feet and rushed through the door, heading in the same direction she came from. She had no reason to stick around anymore, she already got what she wanted.

As soon as she reached the exit of the building, she jumped on her motorcycle and ignited its enginge, making in roar. She held on tight to the vehicle and left in a hurry, without looking back.

𝗙𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗨𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗔𝗚𝗢.

"I hope you're ready, Buck, 'cause we're almost there," Steve said, rising from his seat.

They should reach the HYDRA labs in less than five minutes. It was starting to feel like routine to both of them: they'd get information about another HYDRA base, then they'd go there, fight whoever wanted to fight, then arrest all the people they could find.

Steve didn't mind this as much as Bucky did, he could really use a good fight. But they both knew that they were getting closer to taking down HYDRA with every base they uncovered. So, as long as there was progress, there was nothing to complain about.

"Steve, I think you might want to see this," James warned him, pointing out the chopper's window. "The HYDRA base is filled with smoke."

"What?!"

Steve's eyes shot in the direction Bucky pointed and noticed the thick smoke that covered the labs.

"How did they knew we were coming? And why would they set their own base on fire and not flee the place? Something's off."

"Something... or someone," Bucky muttered to himself, watching a vehicle leave the scene in a hurry.

"Who's that?!"

Bucky sighed. "We're about to find out, aren't we?"

They both knew they couldn't chase the motorcycle and risk losing all the HYDRA agents and scientists that were in the base. They hated it, but it was protocol.

After jumping off the helicopter and landing on the ground, Steve and Bucky split so that they could cover more ground. They had to keep as many people as they could locked inside the base until their back-up arrived.

It was obviously easier to do this when all the people on the scene were scientists, the field agents were the one that caused more trouble.

They took the base under seige and put out the smoke. While Steve was busy explaining everyone that they were in fact going to hurt them if they tried anything, Bucky took a look around the building.

As he reached the archives, he saw a man lying on the ground. The scientist just woke up and he seemed in pain. It was clear that whoever was here before them made this mess and he wanted to find out why.

"Hey, you." He nudged the hurt scientist. He didn't even have to try to find out what happened to him, it was pretty obvious that the person who fleed the scene had a hell of a punch. And this man had the wounds to prove it. "Who was here before?"

"I-Is the crazy woman gone?!"

"Do I look like a crazy woman to you?"

"N-No?"

"Then she's gone," Bucky dryly said. "Now answer my question."

"Easy, he's still in shock," Steve intervened as he joined Bucky in the archive room. "Back-up's here, let's get this one back on his feet and downstairs so we can leave."

"—Her name is Catastrophe."

"Whose name?" Steve asks.

"She did this to me. I tried to stop her from taking a file but she took it anyway. She's crazy, I'm telling you!"

Bucky grabbed the man by his coat and pulled him back on his feet, giving him a nice shake. Nobody told him to be gentle, only to bring the man downstairs. "What file?"

"I don't know which one she took, I fainted—"

"Bucky," Steve said, placing a hand over his friend's shoulder. "We're in trouble."

Bucky's attention shifted towards the Captain. He furrowed his brows and waited for Steve to go on.

"I found this on the ground. She must have dropped it on her way out."

He held up a torn photo.

"Recognize the place?"

"What the hell.."

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