Julya Kuznetsov is a weapon. That's all she's ever been. That's all she'll ever be.
But when the Red Room sends her to work for Hydra and she's forced to work with the Winter Soldier, what will change and what will she discover about herself?
Part o...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
We'll never get free Lamb to the slaughter What you gon' do when there's blood in the water? The price of your greed is your son and your daughter -Blood In The Water, grandson
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
January 11th 1997 St Petersburg, Russia
It was nineteen-ninety-seven when I first saw him- not that he remembers that. And not that it was important to me at the time.
_ _ _ _ _
Tapping my foot anxiously, I fix my eyes on a bump on the girl sitting opposite me's bun. An imperfection. She glances up and meets my steely gaze, though soon drops it.
The door to my right smoothly opens and a girl, I think her name's Ana, walks out. She has a cut sculpted down her cheekbone and her knuckles look bruised. Still gasping for air, she almost stumbles into the corridor I wait in. A look of horror and disgust, the likes of which I've never seen, laces her every feature. The door closes behind her, nobody else emerging.
I knew that another girl had entered with her.
I suppose a part of me deep down isn't surprised. We all knew it was coming. It had to be.
The countless hours fighting until my usually peach skin was entirely black and blue. Every girl at the academy knows we won't all see the graduation ceremony.
Five or ten minutes later, the door opens and one of the male guards steps out, "Julya, Alina, Madame B would like to see you."
Trying to conceal my shaky breaths, I stand up and walk into the room, a numb expression plastered on my face. Alina, the girl who was sitting opposite me, follows me in.
The room's dark, only lit in the centre. As Alina and I step into the light, I can make out a one-way mirror, behind which I assume Madame B and whoever else is behind the academy is watching.
"State your name and number please." a voice echoes through the speakers.
When Alina doesn't react, I decide to speak up first, "Julya Kuznetsov, student forty-seven."
"Alina Popov, student forty-eight," she says.
I can hear faint voices from the other side of the glass, before the voice talks over the speakers again, "Since you two are entering your tenth year at the academy, you must prove yourself worthy of your place here. In five minutes, if both of you remain, neither of you will leave."
My stomach drops to my feet at the words and I desperately try to hide the shake in my leg. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Alina looking at me, so I turn to face her and we just stare at each other for a moment.
On all four walls, a red timer lights up, counting down from five minutes. Whilst I'm distracted, I feel a swift punch hitting me around the face. My head snaps right with the impact and I look back up, determination in my eyes.
As I raise my fist, I can see the terror in her eyes but that doesn't stop me, as I rain down punch after punch. No mercy. But her terror isn't what scares me most. It isn't the way her body slowly becomes limper and more helpless with every punch, kick, and hit. It isn't the blood seeping from her once-button nose. It isn't even when I hear her last breath leave her body.
It's as I look into her eyes and I see the light leave them. The last bit of life draining from her soul.
And I feel no remorse. No guilt. No shame.
I just check her pulse, then stand up and wipe the blood off my hands, onto my black shirt.
The hollow room is so silent that I can hear the conversation occurring on the other side of the glass. It's in English, the men Madam B is talking to are clearly Americans. I've studied their culture, their language, their accents- down to a tee.
"Is she the one you told us about?", an American man asks.
"Yes. She has excellent potential, I think she'd make a fantastic asset.", Madame B says, "If we put her in the field with an experienced widow or agent, I think she could help both Hydra and the Red Room achieve what we need."
"Control.", a Russian man, who I've not yet heard speak, says.
"Order.", says the American man.
"They're one and the same.", the Russian man declares.
"Send in the soldier. We need him to condition her.", the American instructs, "See how thick her skin is. See what it takes to make her crack."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A message from the author: First chapter, guys! For all of my Bucky Barnes fangirls out there, you're going to love this book! Anyways, hope you all had a good day! Remember to vote and comment! See you all next chapter! (;
