The buckles tighten around her arm.
They aren't behind the door this time, but in a vacant dormitory-turned-laboratory center. She thinks the ideal place to run medical tests, which is what Director Vershvovski said they were going to do, would be a hospital.
Of course, if the Red Room had one of those, it wouldn't be the same, she reminds herself; if her sisters were weak enough to be hurt or sick, they were too weak to live anyway.
The doctor running the test tightens the straps again, one around her wrist, one around her upper arm.
"What kind of test's are you going to run?" she asks, watching the hunched over man with his small and beetle like eyes.
She's not expecting an answer, but the one she assumes would be blood test or something skin related. Maybe a reflex test, though that wouldn't make sense with the buckles and all.
Director Vershvovski steps out of the shadows, surveying the set up with a judgmental look on his face. After a moment he turns to her, smiling a little. "Doctor Buryshikin here is going to shatter your arm, Natalya. And we are going to see how long it takes to heal."
An awful metal sound echoes around the room and she barely has time to comprehend what he said, what is happening, before there's a flash of silver in the corner of her eye and then-
Pain. Horrible, terrible, unbearable pain.
She slams her eyes closed and can feel tears welling in them, opens her mouth to scream but it hurts too much and she can't yell, can't cry.
In some ways, she guesses that's a good thing but she doesn't really care and just wants the pain to stop.
The world is spinning when she opens her eyes, blurry and out of focus and there are dots in her vision, and she's not sure how long it's been since she closed them. Minutes, maybe. Hours. Days.
Two figures stand in front of a large computer, a black and white image up on the screen. She thinks it's an x-ray, and she notices that what should be bones instead has the appearance of gravel.
The one in the lab coat says something about two to three weeks, and the taller and scarier man says sooner.
She closes her eyes for only a second, and when she opens them again, he's standing over her with a needle. She doesn't feel the shot, doesn't feel anything but the horrible, terrible, unbearable pain that pulsates through her body and intensifies when he bumps the table her arm is strapped to, and she's sure it was on purpose.
Natasha grits her teeth and wishes she still had the ability to pass out.