Y/N Kuznetsova an agent for STRIX must go undercover as Natalia Anderson and attend a high school in New York to blend in. She then carries out the second phase of her plan and stays with the Avengers. She is an emotionless girl raised in STRIX, a R...
I walk back into the Avengers Compound at around 01:34, It's quiet obviously because I assume everyone is asleep or at least in their rooms. I make my way down the dim halls, then up the stairs to the second floor and to my bedroom.
"You're back late." Natasha stands in the doorway of my bedroom, clearly looking at me suspiciously.
I roll my eyes. "Sorry. Can I not stay out past your stupid curfew? Oh wait you never set a curfew for me because I'm just living here until the school year is over." I huff before pushing past the woman.
Natasha grabbed my wrist. "I'm on to you Anderson." She starred directly into my soul as we stand there.
She was so intimidating. I mean I've obviously faced worse, but at the same time her eyes....her eyes just made me want to get lost in them forever, and make me feel something I've never felt before.
I yanked my hand away. "Who says there's not something up about you Romanoff? You're a killer....who little girls look up to and call their hero."
Natasha didn't say another word, she just walked away and went back to her own room. I could tell by her reaction that hurt her a bit but...
She crossed the line first.
So it's not my fault if she doesn't want to hear the truth and face reality.
I shut my bedroom door then take my heels off, placing them in the spacious closet. I then remove my dagger, place it under the small nightstand next to my bed. I placed a magnet under there a while ago so the knife is attached to the bottom, that way if somebody decides to go through my room...they won't easily find it.
I undress myself and place the dress on a hanger in the closet before looking myself in the mirror. I turn around looking at all the scars I had, then my eyes landed upon one specifically, one I'd rather not think about. I take a deep breath and put some shorts and a large T-shirt on.
It's still odd wearing clothes as these...
In STRIX we have 6 uniforms.
A white nightgown.
Black leotard with the same color pointe shoes.
One piece black leather training uniform with pants and short sleeves.
My favorite of all, missions uniforms.
I mean it's standard full body black leather suit, nothing special. Besides this one...
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He only ever lets me wear this though on special missions. My favorite missions. No undercover spying beforehand....
Just pure killing.
You can't really be mad at me for loving my job, this is what I was raised for, trained to do, and born to be. Was it scary? At times I'll admit, but everything that's happened has shaped me into who I am today.
I crawl into bed and pull the covers over top of myself and lay in my back staring at the ceiling.
"If I did...ever change who I am...what would I do? What person would I become..." I whisper to myself out loud while looking at my hands.
ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ 20 Years Ago...
"You." Zakhar says from behind.
I look straight ahead not moving my eyes from the target where I had been previously shooting bullets.
2 guards come yank a girl away as she is screaming.
"NO!! NO PLEASE!!!" the girl sobbed. "YA OBESHCHAYU!!! POZHALUYSTA, YA OBESHCHAYU, YA BUDU LUCHSHE!!" (I PROMISE!!! PLEASE I PROMISE I'LL BE BETTER!!)
My heart was pounding out of my chest for some reason. I'm not scared...Mr. Zakhar would never do that too me...
"prekratit' yeye." (Terminate her.) He says before the door shuts.
If you aren't good enough. You will be killed.
All this is...is a fight for survival. I'm fighting to survive...
"Send the next 5 girls in. You are dismissed to your headquarters." He waves us all off then another group of girls comes in to showcase their precision.
The guards escort us back to our cells then lock the door behind us as usual.
This was a daily routine.
Ever since I can remember....this is my life...I'm 7 years old and I'm being trained to kill.
They're training us to kill the bad guys they say, so that's not a bad thing.
And when we graduate we'll become agents and be heroes, saving people all around the world from all the bad guys...
I grab one of the books of my bookshelf and start studying again.
"pravilo nomer 13... nikogda nikomu ne doveryay." (Rule number 13...never trust anyone.) I whisper out loud as I use my finger to keep track of the words.
My door creeks open as a guard stands there. "U nego yest' syurpriz dlya vas, molodoy." (He has a surprise for you, young one.) He says.
I put the book down and go to the door where they put the handcuffs back on. This was normal everyday life, anytime we're out of our rooms we have to wear handcuffs behind our backs.
We walk down the dark halls and pass all the doors with tiny windows in them before they blindfold me and I honestly don't know where I'm going now. I think we're going up an elevator?
The elevator chimes as the doors open and we walk out. They take the blindfold off as I see Mr. Zakhar sitting at his desk.
"There's my little child prodigy." He says with a chuckle.
They place me in a chair in front of him.
He notices how quiet I am. "You have permission to speak when it's just you and me."
"Is there something you need Mr. Zakhar?" I ask curiously.
"There is, actually." He gets up from his chair and walks in front of me. "I think you're old enough, to open yourself up to new things young lady." He says in a low tone.
He gets up close to me as he places his hand on my clothed thigh.
This is normal, right?
"I've decided to add something to your weekly routine. Twice a week, you will come here and do everything I ask of you. All you need to do, is sit still....and let me take over...." He says as he places his hand on my cheek looking me in the eyes.
"O-Okay...." I reply. I don't know what he wants to do to me, but this situation feels weird....
