Copyright (c) 2016 by Aviator39 under the Copyright Act of 1978 which states that works written under a pseudonym are protected for 95 years after publication or 120 years from creation, whichever is shorter. Stealing and/or plagiarize any aspect of this story is grounds to sue you! You have been warned. You will be reported if you violate this Copyright.
"I killed someone you see. I killed the girl who used to be me."
(translated text from Russian to English)
"You should have run when I gave you the chance." Taylor stated, voice thick with a Russian accent. She fingered the trigger of the 9mm pistol in her hand and cocked her head to the right. "Poor little girl..." She chuckled darkly, eyes a bit manic. "All alone with no one to save you."
The woman at the other end of the short hallway swallowed convulsively. This was not the girl she loved - would always love. No. The person in front of her was a killer; an assassin with no remorse whatsoever.
"This would be much easier if you simply surrendered." Taylor said casually and took several steps forward, gunning down the agent that attempted to get behind her. "Vy tak ne dumayete? (Don't you think?)" She asked and sighed.
She hadn't been this scared in a long while. It scared her how much the girl in front of her resembled Taylor in appearance but was nothing like her on the inside. The Red Room had destroyed the girl she loved. They had unmade her and shoved a killing machine in her place.
"It would be," the woman started. "But I've never really been one for giving up." She too stepped forward and drew her own pistol. "What am I to you?" She asked. "Surely your commanders have more important things to worry about then one SHIELD agent."
"Ty moya missiya. (You are my mission)." Taylor answered simply. "A mission cannot go unfinished."
A smirk. She was rewarded with a smirk that would've sent most people in the opposite direction, metaphorical tail tucked between their legs. But she wasn't like most people - she was a killer, an assassin. And she was damn good at her job.
"You really think this is the best choice?" She was trying to talk her down - a frankly desperate attempt.
Taylor's lips firmed impossibly further. "You and I both know there is only one end to this."
"I'd rather it be me than everyone else." The woman replied, stepping close - testing the boundaries.
Taylor fired another round - this time between the eyes of the sniper attempting to get into position. "Tell your Director to stand down. Unless he wants to drape even more coffins with flags." She hissed. "I am not above that."
The woman nodded, lifting her wrist up to her mouth and speaking into the comm unit. "Why headquarters?" She questioned. "You have to know that you're not getting out of here alive." Stalling - she truly was desperate now.
Taylor shrugged one shoulder. "You've grown soft in your time here." She remarked, a disgusted sneer twisting her full lips. "Ty moya missiya. (You are my mission)" She repeated and rolled her head on her shoulders. "And you bore me."
Pursed lips settled into a thin line and taught muscles tightened even further, with Taylor firing two more rounds blindly to her left - hitting her intended target but not with a kill shot; she'd be punished for that later.
What was going on? Just finish the mission. Kill her! She was right there inches away and Taylor had a gun. A primed barrel and trigger ready finger. It'd be so damn easy to simply swing around and empty the clip.
"Well," the woman prompted and readied herself. "Come at me then."
"It would be my pleasure." Taylor fired at her, causing the other woman to duck. She swiped her legs out from under her and delivered several rapid punches to her back and torso.
The woman grunted and threw Taylor off. Standing, she straightened up and delivered a harsh kick to Taylor's ribs, but the other girl no longer felt pain as subtle as that anymore. "Suka! (bitch)." Taylor growled and spun around, catching the woman in the jaw with the heel of her boot.
When she fell back, she caught herself and rolled, deft fingers slipping into a barely noticeable pouch on her right hip. As she struck out at Taylor, two sharp, paper thin razor blades were revealed to be tucked between her fingers. Taylor grunted as she realized what had sliced across her right cheek and retaliated with a sharp jab of her fingers into the woman's ribcage.
Taylor smirked and drew a small but wickedly sharp knife. Slicing up she opened a long gash in the woman's right arm and warm blood spilled onto the ground. "You've gotten sloppy." She chided. "SHIELD has made you soft." Taylor spat and slipped backward a couple of steps, boots maintaining traction despite the blood coating the soles.
The woman hissed and kicked Taylor in the stomach, knocking the air out of her momentarily. "Is that all you've got?" She was angry now. The woman had always known that the Red Room was capable of some terrible things, but seeing the killer in front of her that had once been a vibrant and loving girl made her sick. "Who are you?" She asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear Taylor say it anyway.
"I am one of 28 young ballerinas with the Bolshoi...the training is hard...but the glory of Soviet culture...and the warmth of my parents...makes up for..." Taylor stated in a monotone voice, eyes dead. The woman's heart clenched and she opened her mouth to speak, but Taylor continued. "I am one of 28 black widow agents with the Red Room...they are dead...I am not...the training is hard...but the glory of Soviet supremacy...and the warmth of my parents...makes up for..." She cocked her head to the right, regarding the woman. Was that not the answer she was expecting.
"The Soviet Union fell a long time ago." The woman replied matter of factly, holding her weapon loosely at her side.
"Did it?" Taylor countered, taking a step forward. "Vy deystvitel'no verite v Sovestkiy Soyuz ne budet? (Do you truly believe the Soviet Union to be gone?)" She scoffed. Taylor chuckled darkly and gave the woman a thin smile. "Moshch' Sovetskogo Soyuza mikogda ne budet podavleno. Gorazdo men'she podobnymi vam i vashim Mstiteley. (The might of the Soviet Union will never fall. Not even to your precious Avengers.)" She said coldly.
The woman cursed under breath and swung at Taylor who ducked easily out of the way. "Again, sloppy." Taylor spat and slammed her fist into the woman's face. She spun and locked her legs around the woman's waist, using her body as leverage to throw her to the ground. "You're a disgrace to your country!" She snapped and delivered several brutal kicks to the fallen woman's stomach.
"Shut up!" The woman hissed harshly and yanked Taylor down next to her by her ankles. Taylor landed with a thud, recovering quickly enough to kick out with one booted foot, striking the other woman in the chin.
"Predatel! (Traitor!)" Taylor shouted and pounced on the woman, straddling her hips and pinning her down. "Pathetic. Worthless." She spat as the woman forced her gun between them.
"Don't make me do this Taylor." The woman begged. "Please, don't make me." Taylor could feel the cool metal of the gun between them and wrapped her hands around the other woman's throat and squeezed.
"Choose your last words wisely." Taylor hissed lowly and squeezed harder. The woman gagged, choking and gasping for air.
She couldn't kill her. She couldn't kill the woman she loved. "I...love you." She choked out and turned the gun on herself, pressing the barrel to the center of her forehead.
Taylor froze, hands stilling as her pulse pounded in her ears. "It's okay." The woman whispered. "It's okay."
Taylor shook her head softly and clenched her eyes shut as she was assaulted by a flood of memories. The woman beneath her - hugging her, kissing her, holding her...loving her.
And just as soon as the memories surfaced they were shoved back down. Locked beneath the trap door that was her mind - Taylor laughed.
"Did you really think that would work?" She asked, scoffing at the woman's heartbroken face beneath her. "You really are pathetic." Taylor muttered, yanking the pistol from the woman's hands and slamming the butt of it into her skull.
Taylor stood, gesturing to Sergei and Valentina who stood at the other end of the hallway, uniforms splattered with blood. "The Red Room has missed you, Natalia." She purred, hefting the woman into her arms. "Welcome home."