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The fall of the Red Room.
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Trigger warning: violence, death, abuse, and mentions of sexual assault (including underage). This part of the story is very dark thus read with caution (seriously. Natasha goes through hell). Note that anything in <<>> means they are speaking in another language (Russian).
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Berlin, Germany. 52.5200° N, 13.4050° E
Natasha Romanoff felt the shift in the air.
The chill of death crept upon her in the shadows of the train station that was surrounded by snow-topped mountains, wrapping its fingers around her heart and chasing away the warmth she took strength in. It was only twenty-four hours ago that she left America and spoke to Yelena, but darkness already cloaked the happiness she once felt. It consumed her entirely. She was the prey for the very first time in her life, hunted by the Red Room that was hungry for vengeance and bloodthirsty for revenge. She'd always been the Black Widow who struck first and was always steps ahead. It was not the case this time. She would need to trust her instincts and hope Dreykov didn't want her killed, but hope was a very dangerous thing, especially in a time like this. She knew his guards were out there awaiting her arrival. She would not be able to stay hidden once she left this busy train station, and fear enveloped her at the thought of her future if she failed. It was better to die than to fall into Dreykov's hands again. The thought of chemical subjugation, losing her free will, was enough to send her into a downward spiral. She couldn't survive such heinous torture again.
She wouldn't want to survive.
She pulled the collar of her thick coat tighter around her neck as she stepped out into the cold, blinking in the brightness of the sun as she emerged from the train station. Berlin was beautiful, but she hated the low temperatures and the bite of the wind against her cheek.
Natalie Rushman was gone, a ghost in her past who would haunt her for the rest of her life if she survived the fall of the Red Room. She already omitted her memory of Steve Rogers because if she let herself feel such potent emotions, she would want to flee to America, back into his safe, strong arms. However, she was not a fool, and she knew he would not want her now that he knew who she was. A villain like her never got a happy ending, especially with a hero like Steve.
She shivered, but it wasn't because of the cold this time. However, she took comfort in the blades hidden against her body, and a syringe was tucked into one of her pockets. She hoped she wouldn't have to use it. The cold air burned her lungs as she walked through the parking lot of the train station. She saw the black car immediately and knew her mission had already begun. The bulletproof windows were unmistakable as Dreykov was never subtle when it came to revenge. Her heart was pounding as fear enveloped her. She had never been afraid before, but she knew the cost of this mission. Failure was not an option, and she knew what she needed to do.
