BOOK ONE OF THE ETERNAL WINTER TRILOGY
*EDITING IN PROGRESS*
Realizing that Natasha Romanoff a.k.a Black Widow doesn't fit into the illusion of superheroes, she decides to go on her own path. A path that leads her to becoming a vigilante. The life s...
The icy winter wind thumped against the windshield, trying to push its way through the glass, reaching for their necks. Natasha could not see anything in front of her, blurred by a white abyss. The radio screeched in rhythm with the moaning wind. They were trapped on a blank canvas.
Natasha gripped her hands against the black leather of the wheel, trying to keep the Jeep from spinning out of control. James pushed his hands on the dashboard, keeping himself from banging against the door.
"Does Trikov control weather now?" Sarcasm filled the car.
"Whatever this is, it better end soon." Natasha gritted her teeth, putting all her muscle into the wheel.
The radio was still out and the gushing wind still moaned. Then the car wheels slipped, like they were driving on a frozen lake. Natasha turned the wheel and got back in control.
"Stop the car!" James yelled. Natasha still kept her eyes on the white nothing. "Now!" James demanded. Natasha pushed on the breaks and the car screamed to a halt. Heavy breaths were silent in the wailing gale. Natasha searched through the glass for any sign of motion but they were blind.
"We wait here until the blizzard dies down." Natasha turned to protest but James was quicker. "We wait."
The snowy gale wailed for an hour, weakening with every push. Once the wind and view cleared Natasha hit the gas and they began hunting for Clint and Wanda. The blizzard covered the land with an inch of snow, slowing down their pace.
"Come on Clint." Natasha whispered to herself. "This isn't Marco Polo."
James jumped from his seat. "There." He pointed at the Hummer that was camouflaged with snow.
Natasha pulled up the car and they ran to the Hummer, brushing off the wall of soft ice. Clint then pushed his door open and jumped out, Wanda following.
"Perfect timing for one of God's bumps in the road, literally." He motioned his hand to the snow on the road. Natasha jerked her head up, a light sparked in her eyes.
"Exactly." She whipped her head towards James, her auburn hair gleaming brighter than any fire that has ever burned. "If you were in a building and a blizzard emerged, what would you do?"
"Stay inside." James said and Natasha nodded.
"Trikov isn't going anywhere." She headed back to the car. "Clint, can you get the car back on the road?"
Clint looked insulted. "Of course I can."
Natasha did not wait for his response, she pushed the key into the ignition while James helped brush off the rest of the snow.
The sky was blue once they got to Trikov's old hideout. One level of the building stood above the ground, making it seem like it was a vacant and unwanted structure. Standing like nothing darker than shadows has touched its wall. How ironic.
They all came out of their cars and entered the chilling atmosphere of the torment zone. James held his breath, hoping that no rush of rage and revenge fills his lungs. Natasha held his hand and gripped it for reassurance. Clint pulled his arrow up and scan the halls for unwanted guests.
Wanda's fingers trickled with red spirals, searching for any indication of the use of magic. The ground floor was as silent as the days that she was locked in her own nightmare.
"All clear." Clint said from down the hall.
"No sign of any magic, other than mine." Wanda said with red spilling out of her hands.
"Okay, search every crack and corner. I want every brick pulled out if that's what it takes." They all nodded at Natasha's command and dispersed.
Natasha watched Clint and Wanda disappear from the corner of her eye. Her Glocks ready in position, James' Skorpion locked and loaded. They began searching the nearby rooms.
Every room look exactly like the one before it. The same four grey walls and the same light bulb hanging by thin wire. Nothing stood out but bloody streaks, hand prints, and marks that look like nails that dug into the cement walls.
James' face was impassive, Natasha could not tell what and how he was feeling about walking back into this hell hole but she was grateful he has not lost it.
Yet.
"So many nightmares written on these walls. Like personal signatures of the torturers themselves." There was disgust in James' tone. He was already at the frame of the door, waiting for Natasha to finish. "This is pointless. He probably torched anything that could be traced to him."
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Natasha was not ready to give up. There had to be something they must have left, anything. Even a bubble gum wrapper would satisfy her, not even dust clung to these frigid floors.
Clint searched on the right side of the bottom floor. His breath and the hum of the string on his bow was the only sounds that occupied the emptiness. He was not shocked that he has not found anything yet but he still continued through the suddenly narrow halls. If they do not find anything soon, this silence was going to swallow them whole.
"Natasha," Wanda's voice filled Natasha's ear. "Haven't found anything."
"Got nothing either." Clint chimed in.
"Lets all meet by the cars." James responded. Natasha stood silently, and concentrating intensely on the swinging bulb. The light flickering with each movement.
"Outside." She whispered to herself.
"Ya, outside." James was confused.
"No. Outside. They had to have some kind of transportation, probably a SUV."
Natasha's eyes widened. "There has to be a garage." She placed her finger on her earpiece. "Barton, Wanda. Have you seen any large doors? One that could fit a vehicle?"
"I'm right in front of one right now." Wanda responded.
"Location?"
"Left, deep inside."
They met in front of the large, rusted door.
James sighed. "Here goes nothing." With the jerk of his metal arm, the door ripped open like it was tissue paper.
