Chapter Text
——————————
Your life wasn’t the best.
It wasn’t the worst- we’ll, you’d say that, to other people, it was hell, but to you, you had a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and plenty of food to eat- sometimes.
You were “recruited” for HYDRA awhile ago, before you could remember, all you did remember was being a kid and a man taking your hand, walking into a cold dark room with a weird looking chair; that wierd looking chair later turned out to be a chair that wiped your memory, how funny?
Every night you look at a drawing of the outside that was stapled into a wall in your room, you had no windows. No way to escape.
But why would you want to escape? You had everything at a fair price, the only thing you did to pay back for all the food, shelter, and clothing, was go on missions…. And make grenades.
You loved grenades
Even more than you loved doing your hair before missions, or getting first pick on the meals served in the cafeteria, and you always got first pick for the meals. You didn’t know why, but it lead you to believe that the reason behind it was because you were the most dangerous person in the room.
Always
You had the highest kill count in HYDRA history, and Schmitt couldn’t be more proud of having his “daughter”, the Winter Blitz, at his side
Always
Schmitt practically raised you, when arrived at HYDRA all those years ago as a kid, he was first to step up and say: “hey, I’ll take her, why the hell not?” Orrrr you think that’s what he said? Eh, whatever….
Anyways…. It was a weird day for some reason, Schmitt called you into his office for the first time in a long time- usually you’d just walk right in. You open the door, strolling in
“What’s up, Daddy-o” you say, skipping over to him.
“We talked about this, Blitz-“ he started
“-we did?-” You interrupt, sitting down on a chair across from his desk “-must’ve forgot”
“Blitz…” he starts “there is a new candidate for the Winter Soldier program, and I was hoping you’d make a first impression to him” he writes something down
“Yeah?” You reply, cleaning the underneath of your fingernails with a pencil “I can do that, what’s his name?”
“Winter Soldier” he replies
“That’s creative” you scoff back
“Blitz- we are getting to add to this program, so shut up and get along with it- and your box of junk came today-“ he waves to a pile of junk in a milk crate “-take it, get it out of my office on your way out”
“Dddddoooooo you have his folder?” You question, glancing over at the crate of junk
he sets down a small folder in front of you and you grab it, tossing it on the pile of junk and standing up, walking over to it and picking it up
“Thanks, Schmitt!” You yell as you jog out of his office, slamming the door shut