Chapter I: A Smile

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The sink water flows fast as I violently scrub the blood off my hands. It suddenly increases in temperature, causing me to jump and shake my hands excessively. The blood's gone. I turn off the tap and walk out of the dimly-lit bathroom. I need to report to a man named Andreyev. He'll give me my next mission. The hallways are grand, with wooden pillars and sweeping staircases. 

But don't be fooled, it's no castle. And I'm no princess. 

My name is Natalia Romanova. I am an assassin for the red room. I am nineteen years old, and have been trained for my job since I was thirteen. At fourteen years old, I killed someone. Now, I've lost count of the death's I've caused. They tell you not to care. And in the daytime, I don't. It's only in the nighttime's when you wake up screaming with a wet face from tears and sweat. It's only in your dreams when you feel sorry. But when you wake up, you push the dream away, and continue with life. It's the only way to survive. 

I sit down in a wooden chair in front of Andreyev's office. I cannot enter until I am told to. Someone sits down in the chair in front of me. It's impossible to ignore their presence, even though they aren't looking at me or making any noise. I look up. Across from me sits a man. My age. However, I won't call him a boy since he is too grown-up looking for that. He's got a glove on his left hand, but only his left hand. He's wearing a bullet-proof vest and his brown hair is swept back. I can't see the rest of his face since he's looking down, but I know he's handsome. More than handsome; beautiful. Finally, after sensing that I'm staring at him, he looks up. His eyes are blue, the most gorgeous and purest blue I have ever seen. But they're also foggy. And hurt. Just like I predicted, he's handsome. He's the most handsome man I've seen. 

He and I hold a gaze, not daring to look away, but also not daring to say a word. Finally, after several minutes of staring at each other's faces, he smiles. It isn't a smirk, or a pity smile. It's a smile that I have trouble explaining. It's not a happy smile, but a sad one. One that explains more than words ever could. For a moment I feel like we're two prisoners, on the way to receive the death sentence, and just before the end arrives, there's a smile. A smile that I will no doubt remember for the rest of my life. 

The door opens. 

"Romanova. Come in." A voice says. The moment is now ruined. I get up from the chair and follow the man into the room. The mission, in short, is just an assassination or someone we already have in holding. I shall kill them tomorrow morning. After no more than fifteen minutes, I leave the office. When I do, the man with the smile is gone. 

It's nine in the evening, already. I don't bother to eat. Instead, I head right up to my quarters. They're located on the seventh floor. We don't have elevators in the red room. We just have staircases. I unlock the door. Inside, there is a simple bed, wardrobe and desk. There is nothing else in the room. Not even a chair. The bed is plain, with white sheets and pillows. I lie down and close my eyes. It takes longer than three hours to fall asleep, usually. And even when I do fall asleep, it's never properly. I've haven't had a proper sleep in more than six years. 

When I do finally drift off, images of the smiling man flash in front of my eyes, giving my dreams something else to focus on instead of the murders. When I wake up from a nightmare-less sleep, I know that the man has saved me. 

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