Ow. It hurt to move his arm. It hurt to think. Everything was so cloudy, so foggy. Such an undesirable feeling.

The man tried to sit up, but was strapped onto some type of table. He violently tried to break himself free. It didn't work.

Someone in glasses ran over, "Please, stop struggling my creation!"

"Your creation?!" The struggling man asked

"Yes, yes. My creation. You see, I found you in the snow and made you into this. A killing machine."

"Who am I? Where am I?"

"Well you see when we operated on you... I may have decided that the perfect incentive for your killing sprees and helpfulness with changing the world, would mean no conscious. So, when we put you under while we were fixing you, we also erased your memory."

"Why?" He looked at the straps restraining him, he tried to use his force to break free and successfully did so when it came to his new metal arm. He grabbed a man by the neck and threw his across the room before grabbing the doctor who did this, "What did you do to me?!"

"I have made you perfect, my Winter Soldier...." The doctor spoke calmly, steadily, throwing the man off guard, "Place him in the cryotube. We'll try this again when he's not so hostile. Also," the doctor looked at him, the man, who was shaking with anger and fear for becoming a test subject for the doctor to bend at his will, "wipe his memory."

"What? No!"

And then it all went black.