CHAPTER SIX - Day Two
Song: You Don't Own Me (Remix) by Leslie Gore
As Star tried to roll over onto her right side, her left leg refused to go along with the rest of her body. Her left foot was hanging over the edge of the bed, being weighed down by something. The chain, she realized, had all slipped off the bed and was now pooled on the floor, taking her foot with it. Opening her eyes, she realized that she had forgotten for a moment where she was. Which, technically, she had no idea where she was, just still somewhere in Russia. With Scary. Wait…where was Scary?
Turning her head slowly as to not disturb anything, she looked over at the other side of the bed…empty. She was slightly shocked that he had never appeared and the door to the bedroom was still shut. He had left her alone last night, in more ways than one, she thought. She took a deep breath and fell onto her back, giving her left foot a slight tug to pull it back onto the mattress, the chain scraping the wood floor with just a bit of noise. She still remembered being scared when she was younger of something grabbing any dangling body part from a bed. Now she knew that monsters were real and preferred to sleep in the bed.
There was daylight coming in through the single window and the fire had burned down to a low glow, letting the chill back into the room. She pulled the simple quilt that had been on the bed all the way to her chin, trying to keep the warmth in. That was the best night's sleep she'd had in the past four years, she thought. Kozlov would sometimes let her stay in the bed with him, but he would roll over and smack her out of the way while he slept. He was violent even in his sleep. Plus, he snored…loudly. Like a pig with a cold.
When she had not been allowed in the bed with the hog, which she found she liked thinking of him as, she would be confined either to the metal cage he had in the corner of his bedroom with only a thin blanket to use, or left in one of the many bound positions that he like to have her in. Some of them were even in locations where his men were able to see and watch her.
But none of them would ever try to touch her, not after what had happened. They now knew the penalty for doing so after one of the newer men had decided that he liked what he saw after a bit too much vodka one night. She was not sure how Kozlov had finally disposed of him after chopping his hands off with a hatchet right in front of her and his men as a warning. Then he had her bound and thrown into a dark closet to be locked away for the day for 'enticing' his men, as if it had been her fault. She was so glad the pig was dead.
Now that it was morning, she wondered what to do next. Scary had closed the door, making it so that she could not see or hear anything from the other room. Was he still asleep? Would he think to come and get her or should she take the risk and make some kind of noise to let him know she was awake? It had become obvious to her that he had no idea how to command her the way she had been trained. But she had been too severely punished if she did not obey commands. Would Scary do the same? Could she move around on her own, doing whatever she wanted? Would she even remember how? She couldn't even ask Scary. Communicating with him was going to be difficult with her lack of understanding Russian.
Why did that really matter, Star thought, since Scary was probably going to kill her like he had Kozlov. Picturing that overweight, sweaty, brute of a bastard lying dead somewhere nearby brought a smile to her face and made her giggle. At least she would die with the knowledge that he would not be able to do to another girl what he had done to her.
Star then heard a sound from outside of the bedroom door. Scary must have had heard her giggle. As her training kicked in, she quickly tried to get out of the bed and down into her kneeling position on the floor before he opened the door, but she was not quick enough. Scary must have already had his hand on the doorknob before she heard any sound because she could see his form framing the door as she finally got into position. Hearing him walk towards her, she cringed and her body stiffened as she waited for the first blow. But it did not come.
"{Stop do that,}" he spoke to her, catching most of his word's meanings. His leather clad hand came into view as he offered it to her. She reached up and accepted the help with standing, but she kept her eyes cast downward.
Since she had seen his face the first time, Star had not looked directly at him. When he had left the bathroom last night after showering, she cracked her eyes enough to see his form walking around the bed with something shiny in his hand, but she had not gotten a good look at him, the only light being from the small fire. Now she saw that he had changed into black sweatpants, a black long sleeve shirt and black socks to wear to sleep in. The only strange thing were the gloves, figuring that it was not cold enough in the house for them.
"{Bathroom,}" he said gesturing to it letting her know that she was now allowed to use it. Making her way inside, she was glad that he did not follow, the way that Kozlov would sometimes like to do.
Instead, he closed the door, slightly startling her, before she heard the sound of him working on the fire, probably placing more wood on it. She used the facility and swished a bit of water around in her mouth to try and get rid of the foul morning taste she had. There was no toothbrush for her to use, so that was the best that she could do. Looking into the mirror she saw that some of her hair had gotten loose from the braid so she quickly redid it. She took a deep breath while trying not to think about what was possibly going to happen now. Did Scary like to do his killings in the morning to free up the rest of his day?
Stepping out of the bathroom, head still down, she walked closer to where he stood at the foot of the bed and waited to see what he would command. The fire was already beginning to build back up so that she could feel the heat from it on her side. Scary bent down with the keys to the cuff's lock in his hand.
Looking at the top of his head, she saw that his shaggy, dark brown hair looked much cleaner than it had previously as it fell over his eyes to partially cover his face, but it still looked unbrushed. At that exact moment, with his head so close to her belly, it decided to let both of them know that it was ready for food by very loudly growling. She closed her eyes in embarrassment. Scary just removed the cuff and once he stood back up, walked over to a gym bag that had been lying on the floor by the door. Picking it up, he tossed it on the bed.
"{There are clothes in the bag that may fit you. Try to find something to wear,}" he said hoping that she understood some of that, but also gesturing from the bag to her. The room had been colder than he had expected it to be this morning and he knew that she needed more to wear around the house than the simple shirt she now wore. It did not even cover most of her smooth-looking bare legs.
He had been up for a while, already taking care of the fire in the larger room, but he had waited until he heard anything from the bedroom before going to her. He did not care if she slept in…he had no use for her. The longer she slept, the less he would have to deal with her. The more time to decide what to do with her. With very limited options.
When he opened the bedroom's door and she had moved to again kneel for him, he realized that he did not want her treating him the way she had done for Kozlov. He was not going to be her Handler. He gave her a few minutes of privacy while working on the fire, which he would have thought that she would have added more wood to when it had become low.
Hearing her stomach growl as he was taking the cuff off, made him realize that she had eaten for a long while. He had not even considered giving her anything to eat last night before sending her to bed. Not that she had complained, but then again, she wouldn't, would she.
She hesitantly reached over to unzip the bag he had offered her. His eyes were drawn to the silver tag still hanging around her neck. Seeing the clothes inside, she pulled out a long pair of sweatpants and some socks. When she began to put them on, he turned around and took a couple of steps towards the door to avoid watching her. He then decided that once he found some tool that would work, he was going to cut her collar off. She did not need it as a reminder anymore. The sound of her clearing her throat softly was the only indication he received that she had finished dressing.
"{Follow me and we will get something to eat,}" he said moving into the den, she following quietly behind. Stopping at the chain in the den, she moved to stand before him and slid her leg out slightly so that he could put the cuff on easier. She complied without complaint. As he locked it into place, he began to regret having to do it, but he reminded himself that if she ran off, his mission would be compromised. He had seen her ankles still held rope burns from the ones that held her for the trip here but hopefully the socks would help to stop further irritation to her skin.
Heading to his pack, he pulled out two sets of rations. Thinking about the foul tasting items, he wondered how she would like them. It could not be only him that thought they were horrid, right? Walking over and setting them down onto the kitchen table, he moved a bar and bottle over to the other side where she could sit down opposite him. That was when he realized that she was not there. She had not moved from where she stood. He gave a heavy sigh and dropped his head a bit, his hair flopping down even further onto his face. This was not going to work for him. He was going to have to be able to communicate with her since she had basically been trained not to.
Tossing his head back firmly, he knew what he had to do. He stood and marched back over to stand directly in front of her, making sure his feet fell heavily on the floor. When her shoulders began to hunch up and her body tensed, he knew what she was expecting, to be hit, but that was not what he had in mind.
"I am not Kozlov! Look me in the face!" he said forcefully in English. Her head came up slowly, her hazel eyes taking their time before making contact with his. Glaring down at her, he tried to keep his face neutral, trying to not scare her. Her expression changed quickly from shock, probably at hearing him speak English, to something that he did not recognize. It was not an expression the other soldiers at the base had, theirs were usually made of fear when they looked at him.
"I do not care what you have been trained to do, but from this point forward, you will not do any of it. I will not order you around like Kozlov. We will be together in this house for the next few days, until my extraction day. During that time, I cannot have you running away and jeopardizing my mission. So…you will remain chained to prevent it. Do not try to escape! Do not irritate me! If you do, your time breathing will be cut short. Understand?" he calmly but firmly said, watching her expression change slightly as he spoke English to her. If she had not already annoyed him so quickly, he probably would not have let her known he spoke it. But there was no way he could handle the next few days being unable to communicate with her, having her frozen in place from fear of punishment wherever he left her.
She continued to stare at his face before allowing a nod of her understanding. He had changed into a black long sleeve t-shirt, not wanting to frighten her with his arm. The shirt made his arm match his right, but he did wear a pair of gloves to cover his hands. She was taking in his appearance and she no longer had the look of fear on her face. If anything, he would say she was curious about him. She looked like she wanted to say something.
"What?" he decided to ask, sure that otherwise she wouldn't speak.
"Sir, what name should I call you by?" she quietly asked.
He took a small step back, the idea behind the question irritated him a bit for some reason. He did not have a name, he had a designation: The Winter Soldier. His Handlers used the term Asset, but he did not like that even though he answered to it, so he thought for a long moment.
"Soldier," he said finally, hoping that it would be sufficient for her. She just nodded her head and accepted it. Her question made him realize that he would also have to address her.
"And you, what do I call you?" he asked.
"Star," she replied with the same name on her collar, but he noticed that she frowned a bit after answering. He just gave her a nod with his head in response.
He walked back over to the table and sat down, opening up his rations. She quietly walked over and sat across from him, the only sound being made was the chain dragging across the wooden floor. Opening up the bar, she took a small bite and as she began to chew, he saw the look of disgust cross her face. He knew the feeling. When she opened the bottle and took a sip hoping to cleanse her mouth, she about gagged on the drink. Yes, he understood that too.
Star placed the items on the table, putting them at arm's length as it they were dangerous. She looked over at him as he took another bite.
"Sir, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but I don't think I can eat this," she said casting her eyes downward as she spoke freely for the first time. He glanced over his shoulder at the kitchen, remembering all of the groceries that Kozlov's men had brought in.
"There is food in the kitchen," he informed her. She then began to glance around the room, as if looking for something that she had forgotten about.
"Can I ask what happened to Yegor? He is one of Kozlov's men who is in charge of cooking for him. He always travels with Kozlov," she cautiously asked but he suspected that she probably already knew the answer he would give.
"There were five men who arrived at this location with Kozlov. They were part of my mission, therefore, they are no longer…a concern," he stated fairly bluntly without going into much detail, hesitating only a little while trying to find the right description to give her. He watched as Star simply nodded in understanding at what he was implying. He began to think that she should seem a bit more upset, either at the fact that men she knew had been killed, or at least in the fact that she was talking with the one who killed them.
"Do you know how to cook?" he asked knowing he had a curious expression on his face, doubt mixed with hopefulness. He also hoped to pull her thoughts away from the way they were heading. Right now, he did not want to have to deal with her getting hysterical if he said the wrong thing.
"Yes," she said, her face lighting up some. They both knew that anything would be better than the rations. Star looked over at the kitchen area before turning back to him. "Sir, can I…"
Star had started to ask for permission to move but quit when he gave her a stern look. Instead, she got up from the table and made her way over to the kitchen area. He silently watched her as for the next few minutes she inspected all of the cabinets, leaving all of the doors open, and checking inside of the fridge and freezer. When she took a step back, he could tell that she was lost in thought, planning something.
"Sir, about how many days will…..the food need to be stretched out?" she asked hesitating as she spoke the last part of the sentence, as if trying to word the question carefully.
"Nine days," he responded turning the chair so that he had a better view of her.
"Sir, I can have breakfast ready in about twenty minutes," Star said looking over at him with a determined look on her face, giving her a nod of approval. With that, she began to pull out a couple of cooking items, as well as food from the fridge.
Since she seemed to know what she was doing, and he had the time, he decided to go do a surveillance loop around the property. He wanted to make sure that the area had still been undisturbed during the night, but he had not wanted to leave her alone in the house while she slept. He stood up and gathered his mission clothing from where he had piled it on the floor near the couch last night. Leaving on the long sleeve shirt to soften his leather vest and putting on his tactical pants, he then slipped his combat boots on before loading up a couple of knives and guns.
"I will be back in less than twenty minutes," he said checking to make sure that any other weapon was out of her reach, at the edge of the room. He looked over at her and realized that she had stopped moving and was staring at him. He had not put on the eye black or face mask, so he knew that she should not be too scared of him. Instead, Star just nodded her head and went back to moving hurriedly around the kitchen.
When Scary had closed the front door, Star let out a loud sigh of relief. While selecting the items she would need to cook, she had heard him moving across the room. Turning around to see what he was doing, she was stunned into watching him as he removed his clothes and began to change, right there across the room from her.
After seeing nothing but Kozlov's overweight form for the past few years, seeing Scary in such excellent shape had made her mind suddenly stop. There was no way after what she had been through that she should even be enticed by a man. But by putting on the leather vest over his shirt it only seemed to enhance his body, not frightening her at all.
As she cooked, she could not help but think about the partial face covered in ratty hair that she had seen when she finally looked up at him. She had still expected to see the dark eyes and hidden face that she had dreaded all night. She had not even thought about the fact that when he took a bath last night that he would clean that stuff off his face.
Nope, she could not think of Scary as anything other than the man that was going to have to kill her in a few days. She needed to enjoy this strange freedom she had for the time being. Quickly turning her thoughts away from him, she concentrated to cooking her first meal in a long time.
Luckily, Kozlov had a preference for American style foods, which meant that she found the pantry filled with foods she was familiar with cooking. Most of the items she had found were probably black-market here but Kozlov was rich enough to pay for whatever he wanted. And with his expanded waist line, it was obvious that he had.
When she had first been delivered to him, she had only been given minimal meals, to try and slim her down to the frail body form that he liked on his pets. She had heard the other men talking about previous girls, sometimes in English, but she had never learned what had happened to them.
Now, she realized that Kozlov did not just pass them along to someone else, they were killed. He had said enough while he was drinking to know that she was not meant to leave this place again. And she still wasn't.
Again, she found herself trying to stop her mind from going over ideas that she should not be thinking about. So far, Scary had not outright indicated that he was going to kill her, but what other option did he have. Even though it seemed that he had felt bad for her situation when he discovered her, he had said that he could not let her leave because of his mission.
But once he was extracted, as he called it, what would she be to his mission then? Leaving her alive would mean that she could tell anyone about him and what had happened here.
She was a liability.
