The Black Snake ☼ N. Romanoff

Prelude

It was night, it was dark, it was cold.

"It's okay, it's okay Natalia," slowly shushed Madame to the young girl in front of her. "we knew it could be a possibility after all. It's all fine."

The fifteen year old teenager sitting there wasn't crying, nor showing any signs of distress, she couldn't, or more she had never, her emotions tightly kept in check ever since she had learnt any signs of weakness shown meant a beating.

But it didn't matter, Madame B was not trying to comfort her, she was most likely talking to herself, as the plan she had set had worked as well as she thought it would.

One month prior to this very discussion, the sweet Natalia had been sent on her first ever mission for the motherland. Dispatched to the K.G.B as Madame's best asset.

The first mission she had ever done, the proof her years of training and suffering were more than just that, pure suffering.

No.

It was all worth it.

Because that night Natalia had done perfectly, as expected of her, and taken down a Ukrainian terrorist spreading propaganda in the western regions of U.S.S.R.

She had seduced him, and when the night got cold, well, not as cold as tonight was, and when she was draped up in his bed, sure that the man who was holding her was fast asleep, she'd taken out her knife and in one swift motion, had slashed his throat.

A quick, painless death, well, not as painful as it could've been at least.

But Natalia hadn't thought, not that a pregnancy couldn't happen, but she hadn't thought a pregnancy was in Madame's plan.

Being taught all her life that motherhood was an experience black widows weren't allowed, that it was a distraction, she'd guessed that since she hadn't gone through the ceremony yet, since she hadn't underwent the procedure, then Madame would most likely give her an abortion, and use that as an excuse to give her the procedure as well.

But no, it was april today, and sitting in front of Madame, in the infirmary of that dreadful place many called the death row, a place she, however, called the Red Room, as did everyone else here, she understood Madame had planned for this all along.

"You'll deliver the baby, Natalia, sweet sweet Natalia." The old lady smiled at her, but it was far from a heartwarming smile, that smile, that smile was filled with malice, with a plan.

She didn't dare ask, she didn't but she asked anyway.

"Madame ?" And with a small head shake, the lady authorized her to speak her voice.

"What if it's a boy ?"

The smile on Madame B's face only grew.

"Don't worry, I have that prepped for as well," Her hand slowly reached for her face, and traced her jawline to the start of her neck. "You do what I tell you to, and you'll be fine." She paused, seemingly looking outside the window, before ending her sentence. " So will the baby."

And she had left her there, in the infirmary room, alone.

Natalia watched through the blue curtains of the white room, sitting on the medical bed, made only of rusted metal on which sat a completely flat, very uncomfortable mattress.

Her red hair falling in front of her eyes, the freckles on her face, her young, oh so young eyes staring at the snow falling outside.

Winter ended already. She thought. But the snow still falls.

And she sat there, long enough for the hospital gown to irritate her neck, every time she moved, enough time for the sun to set.

And she thought, again and again the same thing.