Belarus. 1990.

Clocks are incredibly useful devices, it's often taken for granted how hard it is to keep track of the time without one. Elena had lost track of the days long ago, she very quickly realised there was little to tell them apart anymore. In New York, and even before that in St. Petersburg, every Sunday her Father and Mother would cook Pelmeni before they would all sit in front of the roaring fire and play a board game until the sun went down and Elena was being forced to go to bed.

There was no Pelmeni at the Red Room, nor was there a fireplace or any board games. It was just routine, the same one, day in and day out. She was woken at dawn by the same two women, stone faced and thin lipped with their hair scraped back into buns so tight she couldn't help but wonder how they were able to close their eyes. On the very first morning, when she was still exhausted from a sleep that was plagued with nightmares, they had pulled her from her bed and dressed her themselves. Straight into a perfectly neat school uniform with the red neck tie tied a little too tightly, they had muttered something about it keeping her from slouching. They had tamed her hair into two simple braids and instructed her that she was never to take them out, even when she slept. Her stomach rumbled loudly but the two women acted as if they hadn't even heard it. They escorted her to a large classroom where she saw the first other children her own age. There was only twenty of them in total, Elena filling the missing seat at the back of the room. They were each dressed identically and their hair were all matching braids. The classroom sat silently as the woman introduced herself as 'uchitel', and that she should always be addressed as such, no exceptions. Her expression never wavered, along with the other teachers in the room. She didn't ask the girls to go around the room and introduce themselves as Elena did when she joined pre-school, instead a film projector was switched on and they sat through an American animated film about a princess who managed to get seven little men to agree to let her live with them. Most of the other girls were silent as it played, clearly having never heard English before, but Elena had watched the film in New York with her mother and found herself whispering along to the words, trying to pretend she was back on the lumpy sofa in that tiny apartment. She didn't notice the teachers gesturing to her and taking notes.

After the film had finished they were instructed to change and so Elena was taken back to her cell and the teachers told her to dress in the vest and shorts, both waited outside, maybe they thought she was going to try and run away. They escorted her a different direction than the first, out into a could courtyard where the other girls were already lined up and snow flurries were piled against the walls. She was instructed to stand at the back of one of the lines and another teacher, with thin red lips nodded to two girls at the front of the lines and they stepped forward and assumed fighting stances. Elena could see they were both older than her, maybe nine or ten, she couldn't be sure. She looked across the courtyard to the girl who stood opposite her, figuring out that one day the two would most likely end up fighting like the two girls in front of them. She had long black hair that shone even though there was no sun. Her eyes were green against her tanned skin and freckles dotted her face and shoulders. She didn't ever look at Elena but instead stared at her feet on the floor.

The class continued to watch as the two girls fought, exhaustion becoming clear on their faces. The teacher said nothing but eventually she waved her hand, allowing them to stop. Her expression wasn't one of pride but of disappointment, even disgust. The girls were all sent away to their rooms and Elena was escorted back to her cell and once again instructed to change, this time into the leotard. The teachers untied her hair and roughly brushed it back into a tight bun, it pulled at her temples and before she had even reached the room where the other girls were filing in, she already had a headache. They were sat against the wall and ten older girls came in, followed by a thin man in a striped shirt who held a cane in his hand. Elena watched their feet as they began to perfectly dance to the music that came from the grand piano under the large window. When they ended she almost forgot where she was and nearly applauded them, as if she were at the Mariinsky watching Swan Lake. She thought it had been perfect and despite it all, she looked forward to when she could dance as well as them, her feet in dainty pink pointe shoes. Their teacher however, wasn't pleased.

"Again." He instructed them, and he began to circle the girls as they danced, tapping limbs that were out of place, gently at first and then harder until one of the girls cried out and lost her position entirely. He sighed and dismissed her, ignoring her as she left the room and was escorted away by two soldiers armed with rifles. The girls finished their routine again and he seemed pleased this time, turning to the young five and six-year-olds knelt on the floor in a perfect row.

"Perfection is what I expect, and it is what you will give me. Every time. Otherwise, there will be consequences." The girls left without dancing themselves.

And so, it went on, day after day and week after week. Until eventually, Elena was moved. Out of her cell and into a communal sleeping area where the other nineteen girls slept. She carried her clothes neatly folded in her arms and remained silent as they all closely examined her, still staring when she sat at her own bed against the far wall. A clink of metal against metal caught her attention as the mattress shifted under her weight and she pulled the pillow away to expose a handcuff, one lock already fastened around the bedpost. She stared at it for a while until the girl opposite her caught her attention, gesturing that the other half of the cuff would go around Elena's own wrist. She had almost expected that once the teachers had cuffed them all to their bedframes and switched off the lights, the girls would begin to giggle and whisper amongst themselves, talking about their homes, their families. But it didn't happen, and Elena felt she had no interest in getting to know any of them either, the silence was so intense that a ringing began in her ears and only stopped when she heard the girl next to her try to get her attention.

"My name is Mara." She whispered softly. Elena hesitated before answering her, this could be a test. The girls never spoke at any other point during the day, so why would they be permitted to speak now? She could hear the distant thud of soldier's boots as they patrolled up and down the halls.

"Elena"

"Hi, Elena."

It wasn't until their next ballet class that the two girls got to properly look at one another. The same man who had taught the other girls set up a long barre in the middle of the room and placed Elena and Mara on either side whilst he had them repeatedly go through each position from first to fifth until they were perfectly in sync. Mara was shorter than Elena, though not by much, with skin that was equally pale. Her face was round and reminded Elena of a doll, her eyes were big and glistening and freckles scattered over her nose and cheekbones. Her ears were a little too small for her head and Elena almost laughed when she thought about it, causing Mara to smirk too. The man with the cane whipped the floor harshly and the two girl's expressions snapped back to neutral as they both fixed their gaze on the wall in front of them, focusing on their steps.

Eventually, Elena settled into the routine of the Red Room. It was easy to do once you realised there was no point in fighting it. The teachers went around the large dormitory, handcuffing each girl to the bed and pulling on the cuff to make sure it didn't break loose before marching out in a single line and switching out the light. Elena and Mara turned to face each other, both girls had been taught Morse code in their classes and they put it to good use at night, tapping on the metal under their mattress, just loud enough that the other could hear and then tapping a response. Elena learnt that Mara had been born in Novosibirsk and that they were the same age. When Elena asked where her parents were Mara told her they had died in a car crash when they'd gone out to buy groceries. When Mara asked Elena, she simply said her parents had died too. She was plagued with enough nightmares of her parents, no point filling Mara's head with the gruesome details. Little was said after that and so Elena turned onto her back and closed her eyes to the sound of wind howling outside, the only soothing sound the Red Room had to offer.

Elena was woken by her teacher unlocking her handcuff, as her mind processed that it was still dark, and the other girls were all still asleep, or at least pretending to be, she was pulled from her bed and dragged to the hall outside the dormitory where three armed soldiers stood waiting for her.

The Red Room, whilst being a place of nightmares with no comforts to think of, was bearable. They were fed, though not until they had gone through morning classes and sparring. They were clothed, and she had seen a class of girls even younger than her where the teachers braided the girl's hair and even appeared to smile to them when they answered questions correctly. It was almost affectionate, but the girls were reminded daily that they were there for a reason, and whilst they might not be aware of it, the teachers were and that meant they couldn't afford to form attachments with the children.

The Gold Room did not have anyone to braid Elena's hair. There were no teachers, only soldiers and scientists in white coats. They could have been doctors, but doctors were kind, they shone a light in your eyes and in your ears and if you behaved well they gave you a sweet. These men were not doctors. They all stared at her blankly as she was led into the small hexagonal room with a wall of windows on the far side. She was made to sit in a lone chair in the middle of the room, and they continued to stare at her as though she was a specimen in a laboratory and not a terrified six-year-old.

"Elena Nikolayenva Marakova." One of the scientists read, as if he was presenting her to the rest of the room and the people who she was sure sat behind the windows in another room. Her folder looked like any other, manila in colour but what caught her attention was the emblem on the front, it was like nothing she had ever seen before. A Red Star, the military might of the Soviet Union, her father's uniform had the same emblem. Combined in the image of the Red Star was a red octopus with a skull for its head, its tentacles coiled tightly at the end, ready to strangle anything that strayed too close.

"Viable." She was pulled back into the room and stared blankly at the man who had read her details. He snapped the file shut causing her to jump slightly, she mentally chastised herself for being so transparent. Another one of the scientists approached her and knelt, she followed him with her eyes but kept her head level, refusing to lower it.

"You are a very special girl, Elena. Do you know why?" She remained silent whilst he waited for an answer, he sighed and stood. "I didn't think so. Your Mother and Father tried to stop you from being special and I don't think that sounds fair. Do you? We want to help you be the most special girl in this great nation, maybe even the world."

The third scientist from the back of the room who had been nodding eagerly throughout he mantra raised a finger in the air and pushed a pair of crooked glasses up his nose, his breathed through his mouth and Elena couldn't help but find it incredibly annoying.

"I think brain scans would be the best course of action – I would like to see exactly what we are dealing with here. If we are correct, and I think we are, she will be unlike anything we have ever seen."

Before she could react, two soldiers grasped her shoulders, pressing her down into the chair. Her pulse was racing, and she tried to wriggle free from their grasp, but they were both too strong. The soldier to her right took hold of her head and pulled it to one side, exposing her neck, her eyes flicked around the room, how she imagined an animal must look just before it is killed. Her eyes fixed onto the first scientist as he approached her with a syringe in hand – tears and screams of grief she had been holding in since her parents died broke free and the serum raced through her veins igniting her blood like a wildfire burning hotter than anything she had experienced before. She heard herself crying out in pain, hopelessly calling out for help but her own voice sounded detached and so far, far away. Eventually her body succumbed to the pain and she felt her head fall forward as the world went black.

Elena didn't wake again until they picked her up from the chair and began to drag her back to the dormitory. Her neck was sore from where they had pierced the needle through her skin and her eyes burned as if she had got shampoo in them whilst washing her hair. She stared at the ground sliding underneath her, eyes blurry and mind disorientated. She exhaled sharply as they dropped her onto her bed and locked her wrist into the handcuff. Mara whispered her name as tears of sadness mixed with the tears of pain and rolled down Elena's cheeks. She stared up at the ceiling, ignoring her friend's whispers until exhaustion took hold and she fell into a dreamless sleep.

Her daily routines continued the same as before, woken in the dark, dress for class where they would watch a different American film every day. The morning after, it was Pinocchio and at the end the teachers told the girls that they were all Pinocchio. The coachman along with his fox and cat companions represented the U.S and how it treated little girls, if they were ever to get caught they would suffer the same fate as the film. Elena didn't listen much to them when they said this, she felt exhausted from the night before. The only thought she could conjure in her mind was that these teachers were more like the coachman, pulling on all the girl's strings, making them dance to their own twisted song. After a while the girls were also taught about various types of guns they would one day be allowed to fire, their teachers spoke as if it was a privilege to be allowed to handle such a weapon, but they made it clear that they wouldn't lay a hand on one until they knew the theory of it inside and out. Ballet classes became more gruelling and soon enough their own teacher was tapping limbs with his long cane whenever one of the girls wasn't perfectly in position. Mara and Elena learned how to mirror each other's moves perfectly, so they were never out of synch, and they couldn't help but smile at each other when routines were finished without the need for their limbs to be struck with the cane. Their teacher nodded simply, the highest praise they had ever seen him offer. In the afternoons, they were once again sat in the classrooms and given literature to read and once they had read it in Russian, they were instructed to read it again in English, French, German, Japanese and Latin.

Most nights, Elena was still stolen away to the Gold Room. By the end of the first week and five journeys in the middle of the night, she had memorised the route, turn left out of the dormitories, and go past the studio where starlight poured in from the glass ceiling, sometimes she wistfully imagined would it would be like to dance in there, in the dark, on her own with no one to correct her moves. But the soldiers would drag her on past and down into a smaller hall that she didn't use during the day. The door was the only one, at the end, with a button passcode on the wall. They didn't try to hide from her what it was but why should they? It wasn't as if she would ever be free to wander this place and explore it herself. Still, she watched the soldier press the 9-digit passcode, 4-2-4-5-4-9-3-7-2, the heavy locking mechanism behind the door would clunk loudly and she would be escorted inside and made to sit on the same uncomfortable brown chair. The two soldiers who escorted her would always wait outside, armed with their rifles that Elena now recognised to be a Kalashnikov. She had begun to pay more attention to the room they kept her in during the nights, a Red Star was mounted on the wall in front of her, the symbol of the military might of the Soviet Union and behind her was the red skull and tentacles. She had hoped during their day classes that they might be taught what it meant, they had been taught the emblems for every other military organisation in the western world but not this one.

The scientists would go through her file every time, reflecting on the notes from the times she had been there before and adjusting their actions accordingly. Then the two soldiers who stood at the back of the room would pin her down and expose her neck, so they could once again inject her with the burning serum. It would set her blood alight the same as always, and her eyes would scream in pain as if she was being blinded and always the pain was too much, and she wouldn't wake until they dropped her back onto her bed and handcuffed her wrist to the frame.

The next day everything changed.

Elena dressed for her sparring lessons as usual and walked perfectly in line with Mara two places behind and to her right, the same way they did every day. Elena was at the front of the line this time and she was ready to fight the girl opposite her. The stood silently in the courtyard, facing one another, Elena and the girl opposite glaring coldly at each other. Their teacher eventually stepped into the space across from them and nodded to the two girls. Elena and her opponent stepped forward and assumed their defensive stances. They looked to their teacher as she stood, arms behind her back and ayes narrowed.

"Vasiliev." Elena's opponent looked sharply towards the teacher as she gestured for her to stand back in line. Elena kept her position but adjusted her curled fists.

"Petrov." She instructed and slowly, Mara stepped forward and took the other girls place. Elena felt sick to her stomach, the repetitive serum injections were taking a toll on her mainly her appetite, and she found herself eating less and less at meal times. The girls examined each other as they both stood, wide-stance and fists raised. Elena tried to apologise to her friend, but Mara's eyes were flitting from one position to another, she was panicking.

"Fight." Their teacher instructed, and the girls reluctantly did as they were ordered. They had learnt from watching the other girls that there were no rules when sparring, ribs were kicked, and jaw were punched, hair was harshly pulled, and nails were dug into fleshly skin. Elena had even seen one girl dislocate her opponents arm before. The spectators remained silent as the two girl's energies began to wear thin, but they didn't stop – you never stopped until you had your opponent in a headlock where they couldn't fight back, or you were told to quit. Mara threw a sloppy punch, Elena thought fleetingly that it might have been intentional to allow Elena to slip under her arm and slide her own arm around Mara's neck and place the other on the top of her head. Mara slapped Elena's arms in defeat and just as she began to loosen her grip, their teacher held up a hand.

"Do you think, if you are captured by the enemy, they will let you go? So, you can go back and kill them later? Or so they can kill you?" The girls in the line shook their head and Elena felt her palms begin to sweat, she could feel Mara's pulse hammering against her wrist.

"They will not show mercy and neither do we. Mercy is weakness and weaknesses are not tolerated." Elena's eyes darted from one side of the courtyard to the other as she noticed two soldiers with their rifles try and sidle in without being noticed.

"It's kill or be killed." Her teacher said, Elena stayed silent and unmoving for a moment before the teacher nodded again and Elena closed her eyes as she swiftly snapped Mara's neck and felt her weight drag as she slumped to the floor. Elena was surprised at how easy it had been, one of the strongest bones in the body and it just…snapped. She stood straight again as the two soldiers approached Mara's body and removed it from the courtyard. The girl who had intended to be Elena's opponent dug her nails into the palm of her hands, trying to hold back tears of relief. The teacher nodded again.

"Emotions form attachments, attachments make you weak."

Elena sobbed silent tears that night, staring at the empty bed next to her through blurred vision.

They came for her the night after. She had spent the day in a haze, waking next to an empty bed and staring at Mara's empty seat in their class. But like her parents, the Red Room didn't give time for mourning and so she remained neutral, following orders as usual, dancing steps perfectly in ballet. Remaining completely detached from it all, the teacher had been right, emotions form attachments and attachments make you weak. Elena wasn't going to make that mistake again.

She was prepared for the Gold Room and found herself even welcoming the serum, at least she would fall unconscious for a while and be able to escape it all. But that didn't happen, they didn't take her to the door at the end of the small corridor. Instead they led her around and to a normal wooden door that didn't have a heavy electronic locking mechanism. Inside was a dark desk scattered with paperwork and manila files, most of them emblazoned with the same two emblems Elena had grown so familiar with. On the far wall was a bank of windows and she had the sudden realisation that whoever used this office had been watching her every time she had been stolen from her bed and experimented on. There was one further window in the room, behind the desk, it was small but big enough for a skinny girl to fit through and Elena had visions of her escaping and managing to find her grandmother in Sochi and somehow, trying a second attempt at life. The door closed, snapping her attention out of her daydreams and back into the real world and her empty stomach churned as the scientist who had greeted her on her first night made his way over to the desk.

"Sit." He said simply and despite wanting to be difficult, Elena was too tired to fight anymore and so she followed the command.

"Now, you have made quite the impression. Your ballet teachers speak highly of you, your technique and perseverance is admired. Your class teachers on your obedience and physicality. You show a lot of promise." Elena gripped the edges of the seat, willing herself to be in the other room, away from this sickening man and with the others who seemed the smallest bit scared of her. He leant forward, interlocking his fingers, Elena saw the name 'Montgomery' on his jacket.

"I have chosen you. Elena Marakova. For a very special experiment."