Wolf Avenger x Natasha

19 - Captured

A man dressed in black is slouched on the ground, leaning heavily against a brick wall.

The man groans, moving in a rebellious attempt of escape, I can tell he is struggling with the darkness of unconsciousness.

What a silly idea. What an idiot. I clearly have him.

I lift him by the collar of his shirt and slam his back into the wall, trapping him there. He moans.

Blood is leaking from his throat where my claws had found his skin.

I lean towards him, taking in his sickening aroma. He is such an idiotic child, most assassins would not have been so loud in their pursuit of their target but this fool clattered his way up behind me like a spring chicken.

"Please..." he begs, speaking Russian, coughing up blood, "... spare me."

"Who charged the hit?" I ask in the assassin's tongue. It must have been Soviet from the language. Maybe the Red Room has finally come for me.

I was so distracted by the man's smell that I did not notice the smell of anesthetics in the air. I notice it now, though, as I teeter backwards, drunk on the gas.

The youthful blood assassin musters his strength and leaps at me.

My back falls against the floor and a knife finds itself inches from my chest, it is connected to an arm which is held suspended in the space between the assassin and my chest by my strong grip. I try to sober quickly.

I try to distract him as I try to think of a way out, asking again, "Who charged the hit?"

My face contorts in effort against the knife to my chest and the sleep pulling gas, a growl rising from deep in my throat.

I shove him backwards. He slams back against the wall which he originally occupied.

My protracted claws slash, ripping his face causing him to scream and clutch at it in a futile attempt to salvage his fragile vessel. But I just tear at his arms which he threw across his face. Blood flies everywhere.

And then everything goes black. So much for my night out on the town.

I wake on a damp cold floor to the smell of mold. I am in a four block stone cell.

I stand quickly, ready for a fight, and something tugs at my neck.

A collar hangs from my neck, a heavy chain tying my throat to the back wall.

The cell door opens and I lung forward to attack the man now standing in the doorway.

The collar holds me back and I cough and choke and struggle, my claws only finding air.

The Russian laughs, "I see you are finally awake, little wolf."

"Fuck you," I seeth threw clenched teeth as I claw desperately at the thick collar.

The man just smiles, "Not a 'Who are you?' 'Where am I?' 'What do you want?'"

I growl, deep and harsh and untamed.

"Very well," he shrugs, "You are going to help us destroy the Avengers."

I did not see that man again. Instead, a speaker started to recite words: "Longing, rusted, furnace, daybreak, seventeen, benign, nine, homecoming, one, freight car." And then they would repeat in english. And then the order would change, as well as the words used. This was consistent and even kept on while I slept.

It did not take me long to realize that they were trying to find the right combination to brainwash me.

I do not believe that I was ever programmed but I was not going to take any chances. Immediately, I transformed into my human form that possessed weaker hearing and I slowly began to subtitle clog my ears by filling them with snot from my nose.

It took time, but eventually I was able to block them out.

But there was no room for escape. I was trapped. The thought of being rescued never even entered my mind.

I did not eat the food pushed through the slot in the door and weakness was beginning to take me but I kept my glaring eyes trained on the door with my chin up.

And then they came for me, the avengers. They bursted in with their guns raised and blazing. I was shocked to my very core.

I had always been so alone.