⚠️Mention of torture⚠️
The days seem to drag on endlessly, each one filled with a growing sense of dread as thoughts of the Red room haunt me. I'm determined to never step foot in that terrifying place again. On Friday, my mum picks me up from school earlier than usual. We have to make our way to the airport.
On the plane, I find my seat at the back and slump into it, burying my face in my hands. Muffled laughter soon catches my attention, it's coming from one of the guards sitting nearby, who up until now has remained stoically silent. Apparently, my obvious distress provides some form of entertainment for him.
Desperate for some peace, I do my best to block him out and concentrate on something else, anything other than his annoying presence. But it's like an itch that I can't quite scratch. His laughter echos in my ears, making it impossible to ignore.
My frustration builds up until I can't keep quiet any longer.
"Why don't you try being tortured in the Red room?" I snap angrily, unable to contain myself any longer, "I bet you wouldn't find it so funny then!"
Deep down, I know that lashing out won't change anything, but somehow verbalising my resentment brings a fleeting sense of satisfaction, if only for a brief moment.
Peters pov
I stand by the school gate, observing as Alex's mom arrives early to pick her up. It seems like they have some appointment to attend, perhaps at a doctor's office. I can't help but notice how distant and distracted Alex appears, definitely not her usual cheerful self. As they make their way toward the car, our eyes meet for a brief moment, and I sense an unspoken sadness. She gives me a small, forced smile before walking away with her mom, leaving me wondering what could be on her mind.
Alex's pov
⚠️Slight trigger warning. Guards restraining Alex⚠️
I let out a desperate scream and fight back with all my strength as the guards forcefully pull me towards the small, dimly lit cell where I am to spend my weekend.
"Let me go, you motherfuckers!" I shout furiously, feeling my thighs burn with the strain of trying to maintain balance, yet they only laugh and sneer.
The guards grip on my arms tightens, making it impossible for me to break free. In an act of defiance, I try to hold my ground, but they overpower me and toss me onto the cold concrete floor. The handcuffs around my wrists dig into my skin as I struggle unsuccessfully to get back up.
Their hands forcefully press against my back, pushing me down and holding me in place as I yell out in frustration and pain. My face presses against the icy floor, leaving me to stare into the dark shadows that dance across the surface. Tears of helplessness start streaming down my cheeks.
It's clear that fighting is futile at this point. I take a deep breath and let my body go limp, submitting myself to their control. As darkness begins to enclose me, I brace for the long, arduous weekend ahead in isolation.
YOU ARE READING
The rise of the White Widow
FanfictionAlex's life was confined to the walls of the Red Room, where she was trained to become a lethal Black Widow. But everything changes when she crosses paths with the Avengers. As she spends more time with the team, Alex finds herself opening up and ev...
