2: Are you ready to comply?

Chapter 16

*finally found some motivation and drive to write a little again, God I wish I still felt like I did a while back when I was writing a lot more frequently, and loved every second. Whereas now my brain feels useless and foggy. My eating disorder has gotten a bit out of control, but what's new tbh. My doctors and everyone are monitoring my closely, I hate it. But I just don't know what to do at this point*

Wanda's POV

It had been a month now, the dividing wall between Natasha and I had been removed as both of us were trusted to be near one another. This was mostly because during training Nat would get pretty beaten up, she'd refuse to go to harsh on the younger widows, and it was always noticed, the older widows also resenting the torture that followed once she left. I'd watch her walk back in, I could see the way her face clenched to try and hide the pain, I could also always see the blood seeping through her shirt. They would just throw medical supplies in and expected her to be able to patch herself up all the time, but eventually they realised some of the wounds she'd sustained needed more than one pair of hands; that's where I came in I guess.

Neither of us had seen her, not even Nat. She was driving herself insane trying to think of ways to get out of here, to signal for help and assistance. We both knew the attempts were futile, but she kept going. I couldn't imagine what she was going through, being back here was horrendous enough, but losing Ana, and having me trapped alongside her. I could tell it was destroying her, but she never gave up.

She did make me promise to never look inside her mind, to never look at what she had to do, and what she'd saw. I knew that at first she'd resisted, she did everything in her power to help those girls, she could deal with the wounds and injuries she'd sustain for doing it. But there were worse punishments for the widows if she were to go easy, if she tried to help. That she couldn't live with.

There was a cruel sense of humanity within the torture for her. She never had to be the one to kill them. Watch? Yes. But she never had to make the call, and she never had to pull the trigger. She'd always blink, she told me one night when she felt hopeless. If she tried to stop it the one girl who was sentenced to death would become 2, or 5, sometimes even 10, or instead of a sudden death they'd be used by the older widows to practice torture techniques, slow, painful deaths.

We weren't stuck in the cell, Natasha even less so then I was having to train the younger widows. But normally we'd train separately, mostly my choice. I would prefer to do the bulk of my training in the morning, first thing. Clear my head of the images that haunted my dreams during the night. I promised Nat I'd never purposefully look into her head, but her nightmares? They were so strong that I couldn't always help it. Natasha preferred to train at night.

Nat's POV

It was around 11pm now, I had finished training the widows 2 hours ago. But I could never go straight back to my cell, my mind would be screaming, it would be so loud that I'd probably deafen Wanda, first I needed to clear my head. Punch the bag until my hands would feel like they were broken, shoot the targets dead on until I had ran out of bullets, then I'd run. Around and around the confined outdoor space I was allowed to go in. I never counted the laps. Instead I just ran until I couldn't anymore. Instead I'd lie down, stare out into the night sky, and look at the stars,

I woke to Ana shifting beside me, I looked over to see her face scrunched in pain, sweat dripping down her brow. She couldn't lie still, she was moving around ever so slightly, fidgeting. She didn't often have nightmares when she slept in my room, sometimes though after a hard therapy session it wasn't always avoidable, even with all the movies I woluld watch with her.

"Ana" I whispered, touching her wasn't the best option,

"Ana, lovely it's okay" I said a little louder, "you're safe, wake up now kid"