Different Call (Clintasha)

Chpt. 5 - Nightmares

Natasha

I was walking through an endless hallway. The walls were painted white and I could see a door at the end. I walked and walked but it seemed to me that no matter how long or how fast I did, the door would never draw any nearer than it was right now. I was growing impatient and I began to feel an urgency: A manic panic driving me towards this door. I hastened my pace watching my feet as I go, afraid to look up for what I might see. My eyes darted up for just a minute to see the omnipresent door and suddenly I felt my foot miss the floor. My heels slipped seamlessly through the floor and I was falling through blackness. Soft classical music played in the background on a loop giving me the chills as I struggled to find hold of something. The music continued and it seemed to go on forever. I grabbed me ears trying to block it out when a gunshot sounded through the silence. Shattering. And a scream. The scream continued and I recognized it. Soon my voice joined it and I was screaming too, tearing at my ears with my nails trying in vain to drown out the hideous sound.

Suddenly it was all gone. I woke up on a hard floor, patterned with small hexagonal tiles. The silence was absolute. I opened my eyes and a women was standing above me. Her features were sharp and her hair, pulled back in a tight bun. She kneeled beside me, holding my hand and pulling me up. My shaking form was weak and tears rolled down my cheeks. She made no movement to wipe my tears and slowly dropped my hand from hers.


"Do not pretend you are something you are not. Do not dull your skills for emotion." She said gently in my mother tongue, rounding behind me and letting her fingers brush gently along my shoulders.


"i-I can't. I can't do this anymore," I replied shakily, keeping my eyes on the ground and my head bowed.


"You can. You are our gift, a treasure and what would you be without us?" She said again, almost melodically.


I am blessed to have them...but no! I am not! I am not! ...Am I not?


"You have earned us and we will give you purpose. You will rise above." She continued and I accepted that she is right. The Red Room is a gift and I must oblige them.


But still I feared.


"But what if I fall?" I asked sheepishly, flinching for fear that I have disappointed them.


"But darling what if you fly?" She lulled, comfortingly, putting her hand under my chin from behind and coaxing it up. She stroked my cheek with one hand and my tears subsided. I halfheartedly smiled and I feel a pressure on my neck. I took a deep breath but as the pressure grew I was forced to look down. A thin sheet of blood coated the hand of the woman behind me. A sheet of my blood. She was holding a thin knife to my neck and slowly easing her way through my muscle. I gurgled, but as I attempted to make a sound I heard her breath hitch and she collapsed to the ground. Dead. Her grip was still too firm and as she fell. Her the knife dug deeper and deeper into my throat dragging me down with the limp body of the dead. I choked and I could feel myself drowning in my warm blood. My blood mixed with her as the tiles started oozing red from between them in turn. I cried out for help but was smothered. I writhed and screamed and as the last bits of life left my body there was only my cold, blood thirsty voice.


"You will never be good enough."


I woke myself up with my own screams. Even after realizing that I was still in the lodge. In my room. Alone. I couldn't stop myself from whimpering and breathing heavily. My gasps filled the room and I clung to the bed, my hair wet with sweat. My own self-hatred filled me to the brim and I was forced to lie there in terror, unable to move. I was trapped in my own mind. My nails dug into the bed and I tried struggled to contain my screams.

Don't scream. Don't yell. This is weakness. You are not weak.
Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

I let my jaw relax and tasted the metallic tang of blood in my mouth from where my teeth had clamped down on my tongue. I rolled my sweat slicked body out of bed and had a quick shower. I pulled on a hoodie and cargo pants and decided to start getting ready for the day.

I hadn't slept in days. Months if you don't count the drug induced stupors the agency forced me into under the pretence of "rest". Although this wasn't unusual this was the longest interval and I could feel the deprivation slowly taking a toll on my body. My mind wasn't as sharp, and my muscles ached constantly. Pain was never a factor though, and so I would continue.

I left the bathroom and passed the mirror without turning. Last time I saw myself was months ago and as my emotional deterioration worsened I couldn't bring myself to see my face.

I packed my bag, leaving everything in my room and headed to the lobby. The lodge was significantly quieter at 2am which both calmed and put me on edge. I walked down into the main foyer and found the counter empty and nothing inhabited apart from a man no more than two years older than me sitting on the fireside couch obviously nodding off. He had dirty blond hair and a nose that noticeably had been broken many times before. His upper body was unusually fit for someone in this town. He was decidedly suspicious. I lightened my gait as I approached hoping to get a better look. Know who he was, if he's a threat or not. As I neared, he stirred slightly.
The second he saw me his body tensed and he jumped up. I was given a split second to see him before he was awake. In that moment I caught both his earpiece and his gun. He was definitely a spy. He was definitely somebody. I was definitely not as good as I thought I was.