A Fate Sealed in Darkness
2:00 AM – Salt Lake City, Utah
The doorbell rang.
I groaned, rolling over in bed. I knew exactly who it was. The damn Mormon missionaries. Again.
This was the seventh time this week. Seventh. Even God took a rest day.
I dragged myself up, yawning as I shuffled to the door in my slippers and an oversized hoodie that said, I’d Rather Be at Benihana. I was already prepared to say, “For the last time, I do NOT want to hear about Joseph Smith at this ungodly hour,” when—
BAM.
Something slammed into me. Hard. Arms—strong, cold, suspiciously metallic—yanked me forward. A cloth bag went over my head. I was airborne for a solid three seconds.
Ah. Not Mormons.
2:05 AM – Inside a Van, Probably Headed to My Doom
I sat crisscross applesauce on the metal floor, the bag still over my head.
I felt like I should be scared, but honestly? Meh. This was Utah. Walmart parking lots have seen way worse.
“Hey,” I said casually. “Can we stop at McDonald’s?”
A long silence. Then a gruff voice muttered, “What?”
“I’m hungry. I was gonna make a Hot Pocket, but you guys kinda interrupted that, so now I’m thinking McDonald’s.”
Another voice hissed, “We’re not stopping at McDonald’s.”
I huffed. “Okay, but like, it’s two in the morning. The drive-thru’s probably empty. I could just get a McChicken—”
“No.”
“Medium fry?”
“No.”
“Can I at least get a Sprite?”
“NO.”
I flopped backward onto the van floor with a dramatic sigh. “Fine, but I’m not gonna be fun to kidnap on an empty stomach.”
A deep exhale. Someone muttered in Russian. Footsteps. Then—finally—the bag was ripped off my head.
And there he was.
The Winter Soldier.
Metal arm, tactical gear, brooding stare—exactly as advertised. He was looking down at me like I was a glitch in the simulation.
I blinked up at him. “Oh, shit. Are you the guy from Captain America?”
His eye twitched.
3:00 AM – HYDRA Base, Interrogation Room
They had me strapped to a chair under a single flickering lightbulb. Very cliché. I almost wanted to give them a B-minus for effort.
Across from me sat the Winter Soldier and some bald guy with a scar. Classic evil dude aesthetic. Probably runs a podcast.
“Do you know why you’re here?” Bald Guy asked, steepling his fingers.
I tilted my head. “Because I opened my front door?”
Winter Soldier inhaled sharply like he was considering retiring early.
“You,” Bald Guy continued, “are here because you possess a unique set of skills that—”
I immediately started laughing. “Oh my god, is this a Taken reference? Are you Liam Neeson? ‘I have a very particular set of skills’—”
Bald Guy’s eye twitched.
I kept going. “‘Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you’—oh man, this is great, do you have the whole speech memorized?”
Winter Soldier was gripping the bridge of his nose like he already regretted his entire career.
3:10 AM – Realizing I Was the Wrong Person to Kidnap
They tried intimidation tactics.
I did not care.
Winter Soldier slammed his metal fist on the table. I blinked. “Damn, is that vibranium? Can I touch it?”
“No.”
“I bet it’d be cool if you tapped it against something metal. Like a tuning fork. Can you do that?”
“…No.”
They showed me a HYDRA propaganda video.
I zoned out and started reciting the McDonald’s menu in my head.
They tried to threaten my family.
I texted my mom:
> “Hey I got kidnapped, can you feed my cat? Also, what’s your McDonald’s order in case we stop?”
HYDRA eventually came to a realization: I was ungovernable.
4:00 AM – The Five Stages of Grief, Featuring the Winter Soldier
At some point, the interrogation collapsed into a pit of existential despair.
The bald guy left, defeated. Probably to go stare at a wall. Now it was just me and Winter Soldier, locked in a silent battle of sheer mental exhaustion.
I could see it happening. The five stages of grief.
1. Denial: No. No, this can’t be real. There’s no way we kidnapped someone this stupid.
2. Anger: Why the fuck did we kidnap this person?!
3. Bargaining: Maybe they’ll cooperate if I give them McDonald’s.
4. Depression: Oh my god. This is my life now.
5. Acceptance: Fine. Whatever. Just don’t crash the getaway car.
Finally, he exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “You are going to work for HYDRA.”
I kicked my feet up on the table. “Can I have a cool villain name?”
“No.”
“What if I come up with one? Like, The Chaos Agent, Dan-Dan the 100-Foot Man, or Fast Food Menace?”
“No.”
I grinned. “I like Fast Food Menace.”
Winter Soldier stood up so fast his chair almost fell over. “I need a drink.”
From somewhere in the background, a HYDRA agent muttered in pure despair,
“This is worse than when Steve Rogers gave a drug PSA.”
And that’s how I got recruited into HYDRA.