Unbreakable
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I'm alive dammit! It's a miracle!
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Security is one nice job... for men. But when it is for a lady, tough shit is coming for you. Sexism wasn't my thing, but come on guys, we're all the same. Men have advantages and surprise; women have as well. Landing a job at security is a good fucking achievement for me. You would know self-defence and stuff and kick people's ass. And importantly, it makes you want to protect someone (because of payment). Even if my parents—that are bit of a whack job—disagreed, I still got it. What could I do with engineering? Pssh everything if I have a logical mind... but I don't have one. I have a creative mind.
A bodyguard with a creative mind. That sounds new to me.
We're already done at my achievements. Let me now tell you my downfall. Some ladies want to be with the military force, I'm like that. It's tough though, because they ridicule you because of your pathetic-ness. I'm not famous and all, but people knew my attitude. Independent, athletic, smart and ingenuity. No nickname of some sorts, like when you kill someone you already have a nickname. I'm just a plain lady, with a simple but creative mind.
Who is falling down to her doom.
Fuck.
I've been stalling by telling you my life story about my job. I mostly sugar coated it, I know you can handle the truth, but I bet you can't handle the shit I've been through.
Where was I?
Oh yes, falling. On a cliff nonetheless.
If you really want to know how it all started. Let me tell you my mission, which I am really telling since I'm going to die. Tell my tale to your grandchildren and shit.
I am assigned to protect one famous dealer. Not a drug dealer, I'm legal and have associated with police. I think he is some sort of hot stuff on the chemical community. I don't know him; he just gave offered a crap ton of money to my agency. Of course, I am a level A agent; I got dibs first. The thing is, he was having a party at the controlled mountains of Russia. Don't even ask me how he got a land in Russia. I think his name was Miller. He invited his rich famous friends that are pretty snobby. Long story short, they partied (including me), oh and surprise, a friend betrayed him and tried to kill him.
I saw it coming. And I got shot on my leg. Was it worth it? Hell no. Taking a bullet for my insurance would be more worthy.
I protected Mr Miller with all my life, because if I don't, I get fired and I'm gonna be berated by my whole community of family and friends. He let me use his expensive cars and drove away from them. This started a car chase near a cliff side. I was driving at a pretty fast pace; I didn't notice that he got shot. Oh my God! He got shot. I checked his vital signs in a hurry. Of course, this is where we meet my end.
The cliff.
I get off the car and shot the cars that are coming towards us. They deflected it much to my dismay. Caught onto us, killed Mr Miller and dragged him inside their car. And me just like a creative coward I am. I ran towards the cliff and jumped to escape.
Oh look Mom, I'm flying.
I'm flying to escape from getting fired and from dying by Mr Miller's friends. On the side note though, I kinda killed myself back there.
And now the present. Falling to my doom, in some Russian Mountain.
I hope they found my body, cause if they don't, I'll haunt them forever.
~~O~~
Life flashes before your eyes, is such a poetic thing to say. I have never been poetic all in my life, but that's what I felt when I landed on a snowy land. I think my head hit a rock and I have minor a concussion. This will hella confuse me for a while. Snowy Land? I died on a summer day! A boiling one that is.
Instead of falling for death. I'll get hypothermia. The last thing I'll see is the cloudless sky full of stars, was it night time now? Am I going mental? I don't want to die in—
"Èj! Neopoznannoe telo tut!" (Hey! Unidentified body here!)
Thank God some help! "Here!" I croaked out and raising my hands. It's freezing lying down on snow. Have you guys tried to do snow angels? I never did.
"Baškatov, nemnogo pomočʹ zdesʹ? Ja našel rebenka nedaleko ot Belarusi." (Bashkatov, a little help here? I found the child close to Belarus.)A guy called his friend. I heard a faint radio sound click. He must me calling from a telecom device.
"Dumaešʹ, ona iz toj užasnoj školy?" (You think she's from that horrible school?) He said in a panicked voice, "Ni za čto ne pojdu tuda. Ja ostavlju ee zdesʹ." (No way I'll go there. I'm going to leave her here.)
Asshole! Don't leave me here.
But I heard a gunshot, and I felt the body thumped from the ground. I heard a slow movement of footsteps from the snow and this is giving me a lot of scary vibes and all.
"Don't fret my child, you will be safe." I saw a pair of eyes stared at me. My eyelids are getting heavy and the last thing I felt was a needle through my neck.
Everything is gone.
~~O~~
My life is a series of unfortunate days.
Especially this one. When I opened my eyes, something surprised me about my surroundings. Everything is white, and it smells metallic, like blood. And when everything is white: you're either abducted by aliens, abducted by the government or you died. This medical facility looks old, but it's clean. I'm not gonna complain how good their hygiene is, because I am completely strapped on the bed.
On a metal bed. I guess somebody will sell my organs now?
"You're awake." That doesn't sound pleasant at all. "How are you?" she asked as she removed the straps from my hand.
"Head hurts," I mumbled as I slowly sat on the table. I looked at her and tried to observe.
"You'll be fine, don't you remember me?" she asked as she put her hand on my head, which is unsettling. I don't know her. This lady wore a navy blue formal top and skirt and her attire screams for formality, she looks old (though I wasn't supposed to say that), and she has an aura of elegance and... danger?
"Should I supposed to remember you?" Girl, I do not know you in any of my missions. I really don't. "I don't remember..." is what I just said to be polite.
"Oh my poor girl," she feigned her worried face. She then hugged me.
I dub her now as 'Weird Lady'. Seriously, I don't have amnesia, only a minor concussion. Out of politeness (because you have to be now and then), I just hugged her back, even it results an awkward moment. She was lying, I know. But this might be the chance to be alive as well if I either got caught by someone from the black market or from an evil mastermind. You ain't gonna shout the Russians tried to kill me in front of a Russian woman.
I guess my plan from dying isn't gonna be continued.
"Do you remember your name?"
Of course, I'm a lady not a toddler, "Alice..." Alice? What's my last name? Come on brain! Now isn't the right time to go!
"Alexeev," she continued as she pulled away from the hug. "Your name is Alice Alexeev."
"... okay?" I said unsurely. My surname is not Alexeev, but it's much better than not remembering mine. "Where am I?" I asked. Surely I'm still at Russia, but I can contact my agency if I know where I am so they can fetch me.
"Home," she answered vaguely with a still voice.
Home? That's not the answer I'm expecting... Am I still at Russia, woman?! No vague answers for crying out loud!
The lady left after about five minutes of conversation. She left me alone inside the medical room and waiting for minutes again a doctor arrived. The doctor strapped me again on the medical bed. I just complied because I needed medical attention and it was probably the best rather than being sedated again. The doctor just took some of my blood for testing, applied muscle sensors and asked me a few diagnostic questions.
"What's your age?" The doctor asked.
"29," I answered her seriously.
"Really kid? Your age?"
"It's 29!" Goddamn, this lady is more stubborn than my English professor. I'm getting annoyed by this for chrissake!
"If you're 29, the instructor would have not to save you," she rolled her eyes. "I'm serious here, your age?"
"Uhh, 9 years old I guess..."
"You don't know." she said it more like a statement rather than a question.
"Yup, I told you I'm 29, but you said I'm a kid, right? I just gave you a kiddie number woman," I snarked to her while rolling my eyes. Well, she is looking for a reasonable answer.
"You must've hit your head really hard," she said in a contemplative tone. She sighed, "I might give you a head scan now..."
"You should, I hit my head and you're planning not to examine it? What kind of doctor are you?" Holy fuck! How did you even become a doctor? Are you even licensed?
"Shut up brat, I might kill you if you don't want to close your goddamned mouth," she told me in a coldest tone possible.
"Fine, I am 9 and a half..." I lied because of her small threat, though she seemed convinced. Am I not 29 anymore?
The doctor didn't respond anymore; she continued more of the doctor tasks. In front of me is one shiny wall, you can see your reflection clearly. There is a pair of green eyes staring back at me. My eyes are of the same colour... Fuck, is that me? Damn, this wall is really clear, wonder who polished it. It's like a mirror to me. My hair is short again, and it isn't coloured... I looked at my hands and saw that they were small and soft again. No callous or dried skin present.
This can't be real.
~~O~~
I could have landed a job on films and arts.
Didn't I tell you that I'm a good actor? That makes a good liar. The lady that told me my name thinks that I have amnesia. She knows that I don't have parents or relatives. I asked her name one time, and apparently her name is Madame B.
Seriously, is her first name Madame?
So I got indirectly been adopted. Her actions made me think that she wanted me to know that she was a close relative. If I have amnesia, I would have believed her.
But thanks to my training. I know it's a lie. I'm playing a safe game here, if I somehow get this lady on the bad side. I have a feeling that I would get killed.
They have stuck me at the medical facility for... I don't know... Uhh, a week? Probably more than that. You have no sense of the time when you're stuck inside the room for a long day. The doctor earlier kept a close check on my brain, but it kept giving a result of normal.
She insisted that I wasn't normal. And hell yeah she was right! You think that being a child again is normal?
I didn't see her next week after that.
A new doctor, thank God is normal. Keep records on my vital signs. Madame hasn't released me yet from this medical facility, though she allowed me to roam inside the room. Not touching sharp materials and opening the door. Which was closed, unfortunately. I think there's a lock outside and inside... I don't know. I can't open the door.
Guess what I'm doing right now?
Surprise! It's nothing.
I'm going insane just by staring at the walls. I've read all the medicine names from the cabinet. Which was luckily unlocked because of the doctor forgetting to close it. I'm not a medically smart person, but this could help me. Even half of the medicines have funny names.
"Open dammit!" Somebody seethed from outside the room. And it sounded from a child. I walked closer to the doors and listened carefully. Which I only got were a string of curses. You shoulda heard how she cusses, sounds like an experienced sailor.
I looked at the lock from my door. I guess she can't open it because they locked it from the inside. I opened it, which I shouldn't have done, because the door almost slammed to my face!
"Biscuits! Be careful next time! You know somebody could die because of doors!" I whisper yelled at the girl. Door knobs are lethal; They can give you mental damage if you got hit in the head pretty hard. And I ain't gonna experience another head injury.
The girl seemed surprised because she almost punched in my stomach, which I dodged skilfully. You hafta see her moves, pretty graceful and experienced, but I'm more experienced.
I grabbed her hand tightly and talked, "Chill, I'm sick. What can I get for you?"
The girl struggled from my grip but she still didn't escape. "I need... Antiseptic and bandages..." She said reluctantly. Damn, this girl is hella strong for a normal kid.
"Oh you could have asked me for that properly," I answered nonchalantly as I let go of her. "Go sit there and I'll get it for you?"
I found all the things that she was looking for in a cabinet. "Are you an experiment?' the girl asked with no emotion of pity.
"I'm a patient," I answered as I handed her the medical needs. "Are you hurt? I could wrap them up for you, yeah?" I offered.
"No thanks, my friend needs it the most."
"I'm Alice by the way... What's yours?"
"Natalia. Why are you here?" she asked with a small voice.
"They saved me," I said as I smiled at her, "Madame saved me I think..."
Natalia seemed to flinch when I mentioned Madame. I was about to talk to her more when we both heard a clunking noise near the room. "You should run away from this place." Natalia left the room and locked it quickly. Leaving me behind, all alone again.
"Why would I?"
~~O~~
I have never been at an orphanage or been at a private boarding academy.
Madame B. already thinks that I'm good to join my family. Oh boy, I almost dropped my jaw when I saw this. A total of 55 girls, including me, are inside a room. She introduced me to other kids with a cold tone. The girls' reaction is either a glare or a blank face. Much to my dismay, I didn't see Natalie within the group of girls. They looked like robots in my opinion, those silent killer robots. They're stiff and have bruises on their arms and legs.
Is this spy academy?
Sure hope not.
After Madame B., left. A person instructed us to go at the small cafeteria. I followed without question, though the girls seemed to ignore me still. They served a normal lunch but not as appetising at what she ate at the medical facility. You shoulda seen their cutlery and their food, it's boring.
Bread and Borscht is what I ate today. (If you're curious, what I ate the medical facility is beef Stroganoff).
No one wanted to sit beside me because I'm all alone at the table. You really feel alone when you're new in a group.
"Can I seat here?" a girl with long hair asked me politely.
"Sure." Never mind, I'm not alone. What a graceful blessing.
"Is it true that they have experimented on you?" She suddenly asked with small interest. "My name is Rain Sienna by the way."
"Who told you that they have experimented me? Heck no!" I answered with an annoyed tone. I really thought little girls don't meddle in private business. I guess they still gossip, no matter what their age is. "Who told you that?" I repeated.
"Some girls," she told me vaguely. I didn't know little girls could be this cryptic. "What's your name?" Rain said with a hopeful bright smile.
"Alice," I answered. "For gloomy name you're pretty happy..."
"My name isn't gloomy... and Rain is a nice name."
"Sure thing Sunny," good, make friends as fast as possible. "Friends?"
Rain looked sad for a moment before she smiled. "Friends!"
Our short lunch break was immediately cut off by the same instructor earlier. The group of girls are divided by level, and not so surprisingly I was at the beginner one. Rain is at the novice level.
What use is the level for, I don't know. I'm new so don't blame me. The instructor gathered all the beginner level inside a dance room. I noticed that I was the oldest out of all 15 girls in the room.
The person managing seemed to instruct us that this training would last for five hours than would proceed to sparring. Our training, in my opinion sucks. Why the hell would I practice dance if the next activity is sparring?! And they letting us practise ballet! Only ballet! I would rather dance on a hip hop song for chrissake!
The instructor focused at me since I was new. She let me forced to do ridiculous moves that I could not do!
Échappé and Attitude are like the hardest! I saw one kid do that. I think beginner means advance for them! The instructor taught me the basics first in five excruciating hours. They gave us a short break after those hours. And after that went inside at the sparring room.
They gathered us in a small circle and the instructor with a devoid of emotion stood in the middle.
She called up two cute little girls that are probably a year younger than me. The instructor told them to fight. With hesitation, both girls tried to punch their opponent. You could see a small regret in their eyes.
Is this the fight club? Nobody told me about the fight club. I know the rule that nobody is supposed to talk about the fight club. But damn, do they start this early? And with these poor young girls?
Two of the girls have a bloody mouth and bruised and bloodied arms already. One seems like passing out in this training, which the other girl used advantage to. She held the other girl on the head facing the ground. The girl who won looked at the instructor for further instructions. All the other girls who were not in the fight seemed to be tense.
"Kill her," the instructor said with a cold tone. Her face looks evil as hell, even if her face is stoic.
The girl has tears beading up in her eyes. With a shaky breath, she bashed her opponent's face on the cold hard tile floor. She bashed it repeatedly until the girl's face is bloodied. The girl cried with no sound. The floor looks like it's painted in pure red. You can never measure how much blood that is flowing out of her head right now.
"D-d-done," she told the instructor as she shakily stood up.
The instructor slapped her face hard. "Don't cry and don't stutter. Have no emotions."
The said girl silently nodded and went back at the circle. As I looked around, some girls wanted to puke because of the blood on their sight. But one can't take it and puked on the floor violently.
The instructor shot her a cold look telling a dark message that I can't tell.
"Next time kill your opponents efficiently," she told them. "Snapping their neck is the most efficient practice of killing and bashing your opponent's face on the floor is a bad kill. Learn your lesson. Last one up..."
I blanked out.
This is a torture house... kids got killed young. Why didn't I hear this when I was working? This hellhole shouldn't exist.
The instructor removed the body; she just dragged it like some rag doll. The next spar would involve another kid, and she is going to die, and it wasn't me. Thank God!
The blood is still there.
The girl who killed her opponent earlier is still up next. But this time she efficiently snapped her neck. Everybody heard a loud crack.
This is a slaughter torture house.
I'm scared.
A/N: The language said by the two guys is Russian in Latin Alphabet. Idk if it's right.
Tell me your thoughts about this... This idea suddenly appeared in my brain. I can't tell you if this story is going to be AU-ish. (I mostly would not connect this red room at the comic verse of marvel. Though I might. Not sure.)
My grammar is not the good, please excuse it.
I don't own any characters from Marvel.
