She can remember it as if it were yesterday. Her days under Red Room, the 'Black Widow' programme. It left scars beneath the surface quite unlike anything else she had experienced in life. Working with SHIELD was a walk in the work with them ( Red Room) was justified- at least that's what she had been told. They were cruel,barbaric, and it pained her to admit that it was those faithful to them who had shaped and melded her into the woman she was today. To admit that all too frequently she walked that fine line between a woman doing what she believed to be right, and the work of a ruthless killer.
The dead of winter in Russia. Not a soul walks the streets. At least not one to value their lives. It's 15 below freezing and the icicles that hang from window ledges and roofs alike are all in excess of 7ft long. If rumours were true, a man had been killed by one in the dead of night, ran him through like a hot knife through butter, or perhaps it was another deterrent to stop the girls from venturing outside. Not that their lives were valued, they were no more than cogs in a machine, and should they fail? They were easily replaced.
No older than 13, Natasha sat in her quarters, a small bundle of golden fur curled into her side, shivering as it fought so desperately to keep warm. The pups entrance into her life had been a little more than unexpected. It was a kindness offered by her superiors that she had never thought she would witness, though she took the small life into hers with open arms, after all, her life was less than warm and welcoming, and to have something else living and breathing at her side to keep her company day in an out served to keep the redhead at least a little level headed.
Nimble fingers slowly worked through the pups fur as her gaze flicked back and forth across the pages of a book so neatly settled in her lap. One of the the few moments alone she was afforded when they weren't training her or instilling their ideals upon her concious.
The creak of the metal hinged door was what broke Natasha from her internal train of thought, and as she looked up to the figure stood before her, she cringed back into the wall behind her. The things that struck fear into the young assassin were few and far between, but this man…. this creature, instilled the fear of every god there was known to man, though his scarred face and slit eyes were the last thing her gaze focused on, it was instead the metal garrotte pinched so comfortably between fingers crippled with arthritis.
" What do you want?" Her words were short and clipped, falling from her lips in her mother tongue gave her a certain air of danger herself, not to mention the vague annoyance evident in her undertone opposed to the fear that coursed through every part of her being. " We want you to prove your worth" Came the reply, drawn out, ended in a sickly wheeze that rattled deep in his chest. Clearly the cold played havoc with some, set the cold deep within their bones. Though Natasha wouldn't be the one to give in to it. She was a fighter, all her life thus far she had been a fighter, and what was to stop her now?
" You want me to fight for my life?" she laughed dryly, eyeing the garotte in his hand once more before her eyes flicked back up to meet his " Aren't I already doing that" She was met with a smile that chilled her to her very core, though perhaps if she were lucky she could pass it off as the cold finally breaking her resolve." The worst a pretty thing like you can do is to form attachments…" There was a pause, the garrotte dropped to the bed, waking the pup from it's deep slumber, stretching, he shuffled closer and curled into her side, head nudging beneath her hand in a bid to be shown some form of affection. " You thought the beast was a gift? A kindness on our part….. It's a test, and if you're to prove your worth…. you'll end its useless existence…. Either way, that garrotte will be put to good use"
Her stomach turned, a cold sweat breaking across her skin from head to toe, it was a cruel task at best, but one she had come to expect of them, and gods forbid she showed just a hint of weakness. Never would she hear the end of it. Her gaze remained steadfast; book set to the side, Natasha leant forwards and plucked the garrotte from the bed, the cool metal turned between her fingers.
Quick and painless, that was how this was to go, needless suffering was not something she wished to inflict, and the sooner this mans presence was gone from her room, the better. Her fingers stroked down the pups spine smoothing it coat flat before in one move quick as a flash, her fingers curled into the scruff of its neck, wrenching it from its comfortable spot on the bed with such a shock it yelped in fear.
Dexterous hands secured the pup as it squirmed, ears flat against his head as his tail tucked between his legs, startled at the sudden change in contact. Her expression was blank, and she possessed a look on her face that was almost vacant. No warmth remained in her gaze, and as the wire was secure around the creatures throat, her jaw set tight, she pulled, a sickly wet sound filled the small confides of the room as the pup struggled to breathe, its cries of distress filled her ears and left her heart settled heavy in her chest.
The wire broke through skin, rivers of red coloured once golden fur and ran down her hands, her hands sticky as the warmth covered her skin and settled on the bed beneath her. The pup once full of energy now lay lifeless in her lap. The job was done, the wire dropped from her hands as she tilted her chin up an met the others gaze. Still steady, still unfaltering " Did I prove my worth?" she inquired, head tilted to the side.
She received no answer, a few further seconds of his eyes burning into hers before he turned and hobbled from the room, the door echoing as it shut behind him. Once assured she was alone did she allow her walls to come down. Though she didn't cry, nor did she scream, or shout curses. Natasha was composed, put together, and as she would have on any other mission, she compartmentalised, at least as well as she could.
She owed the pup one last kindness, if not much given how callously she laid waste to its life. The garrotte was removed and cast across the floor. The pillow case pulled from her pillow, she delicately wrapped the pups body within it, her hand running across it once more before she settled it on the floor.
It was the dead of night when she stole away into the snow covered fields, the ground dug with her bare hands until she had a shallow grave formed before her. From the folds of her coat she pulled the pup still safely bundled in the pillow case and lowered him down. The earth was pushed back over, perfectly covering the makeshift grave, snow pushed back into place as if it had never been disturbed.
From then on, she made a silent promise to herself. Never again would she lay a hand on an animal, nor child. Man killed man, that was the way of the world, a pointless way of the world at that But one certain living beings should never be brought into. Natasha would find her out, be it days or years from where she sat now, but she would find out, and no longer would another innocent die at her hand.