Солдат (Soldier)

                                    

                                          
Before this story begins, a few disclaimers and warnings, you know the drill.
                          
The Russian in this is all Google translate, and all with english translations next to it.  Fair warning, I have no idea how accurate the Russian is for that reason.  Also, this story does use female pronouns and conjugations, if you want a version with another gender, just ask.  Finally, this story does mention topics along the lines of torture, and other possibly triggering topics.  Now, onto the story.
                          
Darkness.  Looming shadows, small patches of light splayed across the hard blood stained concrete ground from the small barred over windows high in my view.  The foul smell of rotting blood, old food I'd refused to touch, mixed with mold and mildew from the damp and dirty corners of my prison burned my nose each time I inhaled.  I could hear the quiet humming of the cryo chambers in the next wall, and not for the first time, I wished I could go back under, forget the horrors I'd seen, pain I'd gone through,  even if just for a moment, I could forget the metal leg that replaced my flesh and bone one.  I'd been in this place longer than I'd like, or most likely, longer than I should've survived, I had been made into a weapon of mass destruction, the perfect terrorist weapon, a short, (Y/H/C) haired girl with eyes a deep and beautiful (Y/E/C) color that anyone could get lost in.  I had been programmed like a robot, able to be turned on and off, unable to say no or argue when turned on, and no memory of how I got here, only that I am here to serve the force of order, the end of war.  I had become fluent in almost every tongue known to man, taught to be proficient in every art of battle, capable of killing someone with any object, been taught to kill quickly and quietly, and with any weapon.  I could destabilize and bring entire civilizations to their feet, erase a person from ever existing, make it like an entire country was never there.  I was a weapon, and treated as so, imprisoned in an armory, a building with numerous others like me, I was taken out when I was needed, and put back when I was done, I was given only what I needed to survive and succeed during my missions and nothing more.
                          
I was pulled out of my blissfully deep thoughts by the sound I knew, but hated all too well.  A new mission was found, and I was to be pulled out, I twitched at the thought, I hated what I had to do, but I had no choice, and the commanders and their guards were marching down the hollow corridors of the deeply underground base.  Their steps in perfect lock, each time their feet hit the ground the sound ricocheted throughout the building and to my ears, oversensitive from whatever they gave me when I first came here.  They continued their perfect march until they came to my door, flinging it open, so hard it swung with enough force to bounce off the wall as it swung almost 180° from where it began.  I hated their careless force, causing an overload of sounds to my ears, causing my head to hurt and my ears almost to ring.
                          
"Привет солдат,"  (hello, Soldier) My commander announces as he enters, his voice harsh and commanding of respect, "У тебя новая миссия." (you have a new mission)
                          
"Да сэр" (Yes, Sir) I respond, my gaze trained at the ground, knowing I would be beaten if I got caught looking the commander in they eye.
                          
"Давай начнем" (let's begin) He introduces, and I begin to dread what I know is coming next.
                          
"Тренироваться. (train) Паук. (spider) Брат. (brother)  Терять. (lose) Три. (three) Сильный. (strong) сто семь. (one hundred-seven) Дома. (home) Семьдесят. (seventy) Конец. (end)"  His second in command reads, pausing between each one as I writhe and thrash in the large, heavy duty chair thing they use to hold me down and restrain me, leather cuffs around my wrists and biceps, as well as my human ankle and thigh, as well as putting a leather belt around my waist, and on my ankle and thigh that are metal are thick, vibranium and iron blend cuffs that hug my leg tightly, leaving no room for movement, even as I resist and pull out of them.