IVANOV ~ yelena belova

𝟎𝟎𝟏

The pale crescent moon shone like a silvery claw in the dark sky. The night was deafeningly quiet until shrieks of terror and red flames lit up the sky. What was once tranquillity had devolved into chaos.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the narrow streets as children paused in their play and dashed to their mothers. Soldiers marched through the village wearing black uniforms and helmets that obscured their faces. Mothers tried to shield their children as they knew what was about to come.

Men dressed in heavy armour frequently wreaked havoc, with one man in the centre of it all. He chose who would accompany them and become a victim of his organisation. Nobody knew what happened to the young girls, but they never returned.

"Momma!" Screams erupted from the little village in Russia as children and mothers fled their small houses. Fifteen year old, Karina Ivanov, was separated from her mother during the raid. Her own footsteps echoed in her ears as Karina scampered to a new hiding spot: behind a flipped-over wheelbarrow. She knew her efforts were futile, but the fact that they couldn't see her gave her some solace.

She waited with baited breath, covering her mouth to remain silent. As she crouched down to keep herself hidden, the dirt imbedded itself under her nails.

The smell of smoke was unbearable and caused her to eyes water. However, the sound of gunshots was far worse. Each bang made her jump and cause her to suppress a whimper. The broken cries of mothers separated from their children would forever haunt Karina, but her main focus was on finding her own mother, as well as her younger sister, Sharlotta.

She felt responsible for her family, ever since their father left them penniless and beaten. Despite the fact that her mother, Mariya, never tried to provide for her and Sharlotta, Karina still loved her, even if it was difficult for her to show it. So the prospect of her sister hiding, unprotected, and potentially falling victim to the ruthless organisation fueled Karina's determination to find her.

However, the hand that was wrapped around her arm prevented her from doing so. Their grip was tight, which most likely resulted in bruises on her skin as the guard's nails dug into her skin. Her body was frozen as she lifted her head and met a man's black, heartless eyes. But it was the figure behind him that drew her attention. Her mother stood there, a remorseful expression on her face.

"I'm sorry, родная," she said quietly, Karina couldn't hear her but it wasn't hard to figure out what she had done.

"What have you done?" Karina hissed, as if the words were poison in her mouth. "Where is Sharlotta?" But there was no response.

She struggled against the guard's tight grip, but her efforts were in vain. Her struggle was met with a hard smack to the face. Karina gasped and gently held her cheek as tears welled up in her eyes, but she was able to hold them back. The thought of the man, guard, or her mother seeing her frailty made her feel sick.

"You have fire, little one," the man said, chuckling, but Karina didn't want or need his praise. He had an unsettling look in his eyes when he looked at her as if she were his new toy. "Hello, my name is Dreykov."

"I don't care what your name is, сволочь," Karina knew she was teetering over the edge of his patience, but all she cared about was the safety of her sister and the betrayal of her mother. "Where has Sharlotta gone?" She inquired once more.

"You don't need to be concerned about that," Dreykov said, but the prick in her neck distracted her attention from his words. "Thank you for your contribution, Mariya."

The fight in her gradually faded as her defensive position dropped. The fifteen-year-old girl collapsed in the arms of the guard. Her mother looked remorsefully at her unconscious body, but she knew it was the only thing she could do to save herself. She knew it made her a selfish person and a terrible mother, but she had been raised to do whatever it took to survive.

"What should we do with her?" The guard's emotionless voice broke the silence, but the horror-filled screams raged around them as the raid continued.

"Put her in with the others, мы должны торопиться," Dreykov ordered. He had gathered a sufficient number of girls for his new collection of Widows, but he was well aware that only a few would survive his rigorous training and sadistic tendencies.

The guard did as his superior instructed. Karina's mother returned to her small house, her head bowed in grief. Her head had won the battle against her heart, as self-preservation clouded her judgement.

She knew she couldn't go against the ruthless organisation in which she had been raised in. She knew that sending Karina to the Red Room was unavoidable, but the dreaded day arrived all too soon. Despite the fact that their small family was set up by the organisation, she considered Karina and Sharlotta to be her daughters.

She sat in her small living room, staring out the window as the large cars carrying her daughter drove away. The raid was still going on around her, but all she could hear was silence.

She pursed her lips and leaned back against the chair, allowing her tears to fall freely. Karina's fate was entirely her fault. The shuffling from Sharlotta's room, on the other hand, reminded her that this would happen again in a couple of years. She'd have to relive that dreadful day.

But that's what you get when you're a Widow.