The White Widow

Chapter 7

Yelena's eyes lazily open, but it takes a while before she becomes lucid. She can’t remember what happened. Yelena’s chest is heaving, and her mouth is dry as she slowly takes in her surroundings.

The lights were dim, but she still squinted as she peered around. The room was practically empty. Above her, a projector hangs, along the wall, Yelena counted three chairs, and lastly, a huge mirror that she was sure was a one-way window.

She tries to stand but finds herself strapped tightly to a chair. There were six straps. Two for her legs, two for her wrists, one for her chest, and one for her head. Yelena tests the bindings, unable to produce even a small wiggle.

Her whole body feels like lead, and her head is pounding. She can’t focus, and she suddenly feels like crying. Yelena's falling deeper and deeper into a state of hysteria. She wants her big sister.

Yelena flinches when the door opens behind her, tearing her from her thoughts. Her anxiety skyrockets as a man in a white lab coat walks into her vision. Doctors were never good.

"Good to see you awake, Yelena." Nausea bubbles in her stomach upon hearing her native language.

The doctor faces the mirror and says, "Shall we begin?"

Before she could stop herself, she blurted. "Begin what?"

He smiled, and it reminded Yelena of a giddy child. It left an uneasy feeling in her gut. "Reprogramming, of course."

His words sent sharp jolts of panic through Yelena's body. And as quickly as he entered, the doctor left.

Yelena watches as a projection of a black and white swirl flashed onto the projector in front of her. 

"Focus on the center of the swirl,” the doctor instructs her, his voice firm and unkind. “And count backward from ten.” 

Yelena can't bring herself to follow his commands. A sudden pang of electricity shoots through her. She doesn't react. She's endured worse.

"Do as you are told, Widow or you will be shocked again."

Even in the face of the threat of electrocution, Yelena disobeys her captor. She would resist the programming for as long as she could.

"Do not worry, Widow. We will rid you of this impurity, this defiance." His voice was eerily calm. "You will be a good girl."

Soon enough, the doctor moves from shocks to a more painful and efficient form of discipline. Whipping. Before Yelena knew it, she was being forced out of the chair. Though she's weak, she puts up a valiant effort, but she is quickly overpowered by several guards. The snapping of cuffs around her wrists brought her back to the present.

Yelena is violently lifted in the air. Her toes barely touch the ground. She's hanging from the ceiling, the cuffs digging painfully into her skin. Everybody leaves the room, and Yelena is left alone again. And this time, she's overcome with a sense of dread.

Yelena doesn't know how long she is hanging there before the door opens again. She waits, expecting to see the same doctor as earlier, but who she actually meets eyes with sent chills to her bones.

"Hello, my precious girl." He smiled grimly. Her heart drops.

"Dreykov. " Yelena recoiIs asa wave of red hot pain on her cheek.

"You refer to me as the General! Do you understand!?" He spat.

Yelena nods.

"Good. Now, let's beat some manners into you. Disrespect is intolerable."

Dreykov positions himself behind Yelena. Yelena's body tenses in suspense. The crack of the whip hurts Yelena's ears, and she flinches hard. Yelena doesn't want to give Dreykov the satisfaction of breaking her, making her scream, so she bites her tongue to the point, drawing blood. Hours pass, and Yelena keeps swallowing blood. Her mouth tastes like copper, and she keeps her face perfectly neutral to hide it, but the pain is hot and wet, slowly becoming unbearable. Yelena doesn't know how much more she can take.

After each strike, Dreykov repeats one sentence.

"I am a Widow. I am made of marble! Attachments make you weak!

Yelena endures hours of endless torment. Having lost her strength, Yelena hangs lifelessly by her wrists. She can feel the warmth of her blood blanketing her skin. Her head hangs down, her chin pressed harshly to her chest, and she can see the crimson red pool collecting around her feet.

Unknown to Yelena, but she's been in the Red Room for three days. Hanging from her wrists for two days. Dreykov takes several breaks over the course of those days. Yelena isn't sure how long it's been since he's left the room. The brutality leaves her unconscious a lot of the time, but her body remembers it all. Each strike, each time Dreykov repeats that phrase like a broken record, but what Yelena fails to notice is how her lips begin moving, quietly mimicking.

As the third day rolls around. It is the first time Yelena echoes Dreykov, and it is the first moment that Yelena begins to lose control.

It's been years since she last recited it, but it rolls off her tongue too smoothly for her liking. It seems that no matter how hard she tries, she can always be reverted back to a widow. So, is there really anything else to her than being a killer?

Her voice is hoarse, and it hurts to talk, but she repeats.

"I am a Widow. I am made of marble. Attachments make me weak."