Chapter 1

"Private."

"Private."

"Private, for God's sake Private, wake up."

I opened my eyes and groaned. What happened? I remember gunshots, screaming. I remember fighting a Kraut, empty weapons abandoned as we grappled like schoolboys, until he landed a mean hook to my temple.

Uh!

I stare at the blue sky confused, wasn't I underground before? I roll over, propping myself on my elbows.

"What happened?" I mumbled, feeling the onset of a headache. My head was a foggy mess, making it difficult to think straight. How long had I been out? I vaguely recalled hearing that more than 10 minutes was bad.

Two of my troop members knelt beside me, their gaze fixed on something behind me.

I touched the sore spot on my temple, wincing at the tenderness.

"I said, what happened?" I repeated, I looked behind to see what they were so fascinated with.

Off to the side, the familiar figure of Sergeant talking with.... a negro?

He was tall, easily towering over the Sergeant, which was a big deal, since the Sergeant himself wasn't short by any means. His hair, neatly flattened with a precise side parting, framed a face that was sharp, angular, and stern, seemingly chiseled from angry marble.

His clothes were tattered but surprisingly clean, and what look like a hundred bullet holes peppered his shirt, particularly the front, yet there was no red staining the material.

He seemed to notice my staring, and glanced over in our direction, with a slight frown he nodded, before taking off into the air.

"How hard was I hit?" I asked still staring at the sky in shock.

..........

I soared through the air, the fields below me zipped past me with startling speeds. Flying had become almost second nature since my arrival in this reality, yet the exhilaration never seemed to diminish.

Nearly a year had passed since I found myself here -naked, penniless and confused. It hadn't taken long for me to figure out where and when I was. At first I thought I time traveled somehow, but soon I began to hear about a certain super soldier fighting on the frontlines, with a shield as a weapon of all things.

That had been quite the shock, even more so to later hear that the famous super soldier was in fact a woman. Captain Carter the papers called her, along with her was the Infamous walking tank called, The Hydra Stomper.

It had been the best and worst day of his life, only a week later did he begin to show signs of change, suddenly, he was much stronger, faster, more alive- if that makes sense, than he'd ever been. His senses shot to the roof, his sight beyond anything he could have imagined, his ears could pick up sounds not ever heard by human ears.

The other powers came later thankfully, when he'd begun to adjust. His eyes had transformed into living weapons, capable of unleashing a searing heat that could melt the flesh off a cow (don't ask how I know that). His breath alone could cause a gust of wind, strong enough to lift a truck, while also capable of flash freezing whatever he choses, by then he was already sure who exactly he was modeled after, and sure enough, his power of flight came, it was the power he was most excited about, other than super strength, there was just something right about being to grind hard rock into dust with just one hand.

Nearing closer to my target I slowed down, angling my path downwards, with the speed of a cannonball, I crashed through the warehouse windows, landing on the ground with the superhero pose.

I rose slowly and menacingly, not even twitching at the sounds of guns being cocked. I scan my surrounding with x-ray vision, taking note of every individual's position.

The leader, a man among the armed group, raised his gun and began shouting in German. I cocked my head to the side, smirking. "English?" I questioned in a faux German accent.

I had super intelligence, but I had yet to master the German language, or more correctly, I had yet to pick up a German dictionary. Eh, maybe later.

He looked to his soldiers in confusion. 

"No?" I said, dropping the fake accent, my eyes turning hot red.

"Too bad then." Twin red laser speared out of my eyes with blinding speeds. Before they could react, three of their men lay in halves, the wounds failing to bleed due to the cauterizing effect.

Then they began firing at me. I rolled my eyes as the bullets proved utterly ineffective against my invulnerable form. For a literal second I entertained the notion of standing still and letting them exhaust their ammunition on me, showcasing the futility of their efforts. But I waved the idea off, it wouldn't take much, to shoot the pants of my waist, and I had no intentions of flying through the skies with my butt cheeks out.

I shot forward, my will propelling me forward, to them I was a blitz, a gust of air then death. I didn't even bother to punch, a slap was all that was necessary, and then, they were red paste.

I grabbed one unfortunate soul by the head, a subjectively small squeeze was all it took, and his grey matter spilled out of broken skull. I grunted as I grabbed his right leg and chucked his corpse at another man. He had just barely re-adjusted to my position, before the lifeless body of his comrade came hurtling towards him.

I didn't need to watch to know what happened. With superhuman speed, I moved through the chaos, I made chopping motions, carving my way through flesh and bone which such disturbing ease. Every so often I'd let out a burst of red and another man would lie dead.

It didn't take long, before they were all dead. Well, all except the one that had spoken.

With a deliberate slowness, I turned my head towards him, eyes still ablaze with the fiery red hue. His gaze met mine, registering a visceral horror as he confronted the undeniable fate that awaited him.

I stepped forwards, he stepped backwards, tripping over himself, and landing flat on his arse. The front of his pants, were darkened, and the stain ran down his thighs and into his boots.

"Bleib zurück." He shouted hysterically, pointing the gun at me.

I raised my brow, staring mockingly at the barrels end. Raising my arms to the side as though I wanted to give him a hug. "Shoot." I taunted. "Go on." I tapped my bare chest. "Right here."

He looked as though he was considering it, instinct overpowering rationale, although he survived the barraged of bullets without a scratch, maybe this time would be different.

For a moment the two stayed in that position, before the man lowered the rifle and raised his hands. "Ich ergebe mich." He said.

"Smart."