The moonlight casts eerie shadows on the cobblestone street of an old, historic foreign town. I move in like a ghost, blending in with the walls as I make it to my target's hideout. The warehouse wreaks of decay that hangs in the air. My mission is simple–assassinate the high-value target and obtain the valuable documents that they possess. As I step into the deteriorated building, the atmosphere changes, the walls seem to shift, closing in on me.

The target's guards are dispatched quickly, my intense training following their every move. Moving down the hall towards my target, a shiver runs down my spine. The room reminds me of Siberia, the yellow hue dimly lighting up the room. As I swiftly step into the room, the sight in front of me sends a jolt of shock through me.

In the center of the room, standing tall, I see myself–my reflection, as if she was waiting for me. My instincts kick in, grabbing my crossbow, but my doppelgänger remains motionless. Her eyes, our eyes, are filled with a wild intensity, and she sends a sinister smile in my direction.

"You're here to kill me, aren't you?" her voice carries through my mind like a haunted whisper.

I raise my weapon, hands trembling as I aim it at her. I try to steady myself, but by that point, she's already moving. She vanishes, like a ghost, but she's moving so quickly that she's a blur of motion. One movement sends my crossbow flying across the room, leaving her standing ten feet away from me. We clash, our movements mirror one another. It's like battling a reflection, a shadow of myself that knows my every move.

I spit, throwing her across the room. I am the killer. "I have to finish my mission."

Two voices battle for dominance in my mind–the assassin who follows orders without question and the part of me that yearns for a life outside the violence. The fight rages on, a battle of stealth and control. Each strike feels like a battle of my past, an internal struggle that I've fought so long to ignore.

End her, the voice in my head screams. It's a reminder of the darkness that has consumed me, body and soul. Every moment, memory, and experiences in my life has led me to this dire circumstance. I have to kill my doppelgänger before she kills me.

Atlas, her laughter sends an uneasy feeling down my spine. It echoes through space, leaving me alarmed. "You cannot escape me," she hisses back at me, a twisted reflection of my own doubts.

As our fight reaches its climax, I manage to land a blow, sending her stumbling backwards. Our eyes meet, and for a brief moment, I see uncertainty in her eyes. It's as if she's the fractured version of me, a manifestation of the choices I've made and the ones I've chosen to ignore.

I pull my gun from its holster as I stand over her defeated body. She looks afraid, a look that I'm not familiar with on my own face. "This is how it ends, Avalon." The name echoes in my ears, one that I've heard countless times before. It rolls off my tongue with ease, an uncomfortable feeling of regret consumes me. But I don't let it affect the outcome of this battle.

I pull the trigger, my reflection's body going limp. I defeat her, watching her body dissolve into smoke, fading away into nothing. The room is empty once more, the remnants of battle only exist in my mind. I stand there, staring at the empty floor, a tempest of confusion swarms every inch of my mind.

And then, a scream rips through the darkness—a scream that shatters the fragile equilibrium. It's a scream that rings, a scream that's mine but isn't mine. A scream of anguish and despair.

I wake up, gasping for air, my body drenched in sweat. The nightmare has released its grip, but the revetebrating of the voices lingers. The battle I fought within my own mind feels too real, a reflection of the conflict that rages within me.

***

After the nightmare ordeal, I find myself sitting on the cream colored couch in the corner of the room. The room is quiet, only the soft hum of the ventilation system is present.  The remnants of the dream's terror clings to my mind. My hands tremble, pulling the blanket tighter around me as I try to ground myself.

I focus on the blanket's texture, the way it feels against my skin, the way each thread is woven to become a tangible object. Each thread is a lifeline, grounding me in the present and offering relief from the turmoil within. Although it's a small, simple task, it's one that occupies my mind, making the voices go silent for once. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I make sense of my circumstance.

My gaze shifts to the window. The soft hues of dawn start to trickle in, the walls dance in light and shadows. It heralds the arrival of a new day, The faint glow slowly rising above the horizon. This room, once cloaked in the glow of the moonlight, is now greeted by the rays of the sun.

With the blanket securely wrapped around me, I approach the window hesitantly. The cool tile beneath my feet offers a contrast of the cocoon of warmth that surrounds me. I press my hand against the cold glass, trying to feel a connection to the world beyond this room. The sky is a palette of soft pastels, blending together seamlessly across the horizon. The scenery before me is my canvas, a way for me to paint my own future, my own destiny. If the world will have me.

As I look at the landscape ahead, all emotion feels like its been drained out of me. The moments of complete serenity stripped from my very being. The view, once filled with warmth and wonder, merely seems like another shade on a canvas. Wakanda's beauty, its intricacies that provoked emotions from within, it all seems distant. It's like a vacuum has consumed me and sucked away every emotion that I've managed to resurface. It leaves behind a void that I cannot comprehend. The lack of emotion leaves a terrible taste in my mouth; it's overwhelming and I can't seem to shake it.

Numb. The numbness inside me grows with each passing moment, like an icy cold creeping through my veins, freezing every emotion in its wake. I've walked this path of darkness for far too long, and now, it seems like nothing can pierce through the thick armor of detachment that surrounds my heart. The years of indoctrination, conditioning, and endless missions have taken their toll, leaving me hollow, a mere shell of the person I once was.

There are times when I wish I could break free from this life, to embrace the full spectrum of emotions again, but the chains of my past bind me tightly. Memories of a life before Hydra flicker like distant stars, a faint glimmer of what once was. But the more I reach for them, the further they slip away, like elusive dreams lingering at the edge of consciousness. I don't recall existing in life before Hydra.

I wonder if there's any salvation left for me, any chance of breaking free from Hydra's grip and reclaiming my humanity. But hope seems foreign, an illusion that evades my grasp. I've become a monster, a weapon honed to kill without remorse. In the process, I've lost the essence of what it means to be human.

In solitude, I try to remember who I once was, to reconnect with emotions locked away for so long. But it's like chasing shadows in the dark, an endless struggle with no resolution in sight. For now, the void is my constant companion, an impenetrable barrier that shields me from the world and from myself. I am the Red Ghost, the relentless hunter, the harbinger of chaos, but beneath this façade lies a fractured soul yearning to be whole again.

In the wake of my introspection, a peculiar feeling takes its hold on me. It feels like a switch has been flipped off, any hint of emotion, thought, and even the emptiness, dissipates. Its grip loosened on me. I stand still, my eyes still fixated on the sunrise, it feels like I've become a vessel. Inside, I'm hollow. I feel like I've been detached from myself, like I'm observing my very existence from a distance. I can hear the quiet sound of my breathing. It's a reminder that I'm still here, I'm still present in the room. There is a profound silence inside of me. The absence of internal turmoil that has consumed me, suddenly faded into nothingness.

My mind is like a blank page, void of thought and color. I don't feel the weight of my past or the uncertainty of my future on my shoulders. It's as if I've become a vessel, a hollow shell of a person I don't recognize anymore. The world around me seems blurry and distant, like I'm looking through life with a foggy lens.

I remain still, unable to move as this sensation washes over me. I've disconnected from myself, from the persona and weapon that was shaped in Hydra's control. In this very moment, I've come to realize that I'm a puzzle with missing pieces; my fragmented existence aching to be whole again. As for right now, all I can do is embrace the silence and recognize that I'm a reflection of the person I've become–a person that I'm still trying to understand. Don't worry, you're still here.

a/n: tbh i love writing this story. it is my source of entertainment. i hope y'all enjoy :)) -kenzie