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Listen carefully, I don't have much time. I was set up, betrayed by one who I thought I could trust. But I'm no longer sure. They have turned against me, using my pain for their entertainment without an ounce of remorse. Perhaps the blame is also mine to bear. I was naive, stumbling into their trap like their unsuspecting prey. Now I, the weak prey, fall dead at the hands of my predator.
"Oh get up, it's not that bad." A soft kick in my side forced a groan from me. Romanoff stared down at me with no pity in her eyes. "The longer you just lay there, the longer I'll make this training last."
With her threatening words, I jump to my feet, wincing at the pain running through them. Romanoff smirked at my quick obedience, getting back into position. She readied herself near the ballet bar expectantly. I pushed down my protest and stood in front of her for what felt like the billionth time.
"1st." She commanded. I immediately threw my legs together, widening my feet apart like a duck. I rested my arms in a circle shape around my stomach. Romanoff used her foot to move mine outwards more.
"2nd." She spoke, her eyes running over my form for any mistakes. I separated my legs, spreading my feet further. I opened my arms more, relaxing my shoulders. Once again, Romanoff corrected minor mistakes.
"3rd." I held my breath as I adjusted my footing, moving my legs closer. I raised an arm above my head, leaving the other extended. Romanoff seemed displeased with my footing, staring at it judgingly until I fixed it.
"4th." I stared ahead as I extended my left leg outwards and curled my right arm inwards. I knew if I looked at my arms or feet Romanoff was going to make me run through them twenty more times.
"5th" Finally I raised both arms over my head. I connected my feet to my heels, praying she was satisfied. I held my breath as she checked over my form with an unreadable gaze.
"Good enough, now we can begin on stretches. Can you do the splits?" Romanoff questioned, allowing me to rest. My heart shattered, we still had more to do? I shook my head, causing her to sigh.
She walked over to a shelf, taking two yoga mats. Romanoff rolled them out, beckoning me over. "I know it seems stupid right now, but building foundations are important for proper fighting."
Since about 4:30, Romanoff held me her hostage, in the gym trying to teach me ballet. So far we only got to the positions and the stretches I needed to go on pointe. She said I wouldn't be able to go on pointe for a couple of years as it takes conditioning, but that she would still have me learning.
"Learning ballet will help you keep your motions fluid and relaxed. You waste too much energy when you fight. You need to save that energy for your shifts." Romanoff had informed me after a few hours of complaining.
The yoga wasn't too bad, it was certainly better than Romanoff telling me my form looked like a drunk monkey, then yelling at me in Russian. After about half an hour of yoga, Romanoff got a call, as she left she told me to continue practicing while she was gone.
When I finished, I decided to go down to the lab. While Romanoff was trying to train my physical body, Stark seemed determined to train my abilities.
AC/DC blared through the lab accompanied by the sounds of Stark messing with a suit. I walked into the lab, greeted with Stark checking over points in War Machine's new suit. He would occasionally mutter along to the song's lines. An evil thought came to mind as I watched him work, deep in thought.
"Gross AC/DC's so ancient, F.R.I.D.A.Y. please change it to Crazy=Genius by Panic! At The Disco," I called out tauntingly.
F.R.I.D.A.Y. complied, changing the song. At the sudden song change, Stark's head shot up from his work. "First off, how dare you."
YOU ARE READING
Not a Hero
FanfictionVivian Holt wasn't a hero. She didn't have the spark most heroes had. She didn't have something to fight for. Nevertheless, she became a hero, albeit reluctantly. When she is caught in an unfortunate 'accident' she gains abilities, accompanied by un...
