Winter's Widow

Chapter 87: Insatiable, Uncontrollable, Blood Lust

Natasha's pov:

I feel like dying. And running. I don't know which I'd rather do right now. I'm dressed in all black clothes. Boots, leather jacket, skinny jeans, and a t shirt. Duffel bag packed, freshly showered, I'm ready to go. Where to? I'm not sure. I just need to get out of here. I just need to run away. I'm pathetic. I respond to all my problems by running and hiding. Hiding behind pseudonyms and disguises. Under cover in the shadows. Dissociated from the rest of humanity. Even Natasha is a fake name. Natalia is a fake name. My real name? I am the Black Widow. I chose normal human names to go under cover. I am not human though, and I do not deserve to go by these names. I am no human. I am a machine. I am a weapon. Solely for the usage of others. My blood lust is acting up. I want to hurt someone. I want to feel and smell the blood on my hands. I need the adrenaline of the hunt. The rush of the kill. I need to beat the ever loving shit out of someone. I need to leave. It's my time to move on now. Someone like me can never stay in one spot for too long. I have to keep running. I grab my glocks and shove them in the duffel bag. I slip some knives in my boots, in case things get hairy. Fiery red hair paired with blood red lipstick and nail polish. This is where I take my leave.

I exit my room and enter the elevator.

"Where are you going?" Clint asks.

"Mission."

"Where to? What are you doing?" Bucky asks.

"Classified information." I respond blandly.

He narrows his eyes at me as the doors close. As I'm descending, I can only think of how hurt they would be if they knew I had no mission. I left them again. I'll be back. When, I'm not sure. Hopefully this week. Or this month. I walk through the parking lot and into the car. No license plate, thankfully. I shouldn't be gone over a month. My bets on 2-3 weeks. I'll be back guys, don't worry. I'll tell them it was a long mission. I pull out and speed off. The longs ones can last up to a month, so the facade should work. My only problem is Hydra, who might be on my case. I just need to be alone, before I hurt someone. My urge to see blood is only growing. I'm putting myself in danger by doing this, I know. But I have to. To protect my friends. From myself. I don't want to accidentally hurt anyone again.

I drove for a couple hours until I came across a motel. It's kinda late, and I'm a little tired. I pull into the motel and rent a room for the night. My room is on the second floor. I grab my duffel bad of weaponry and climb up the steps. The place is dark, except for the few flickering yellow lights that decorate the building. I walk quietly down the hall and to the room that is supposed to be mine. Room 22.

"Hey cutie, why are you out so late at night?" I hear a deep voice from behind me.

I turn around to see a tall man with scruffy brown hair and a rather trashy look. ripped baggy jeans and a dark green jacket. He looks to be around my age. He also looks a little tipsy. I see the outline of a knife in his pocket.

"Hey." I greet him suspiciously. I already know this wont end well.

"Why is a pretty girl like you out so late, hm? You got any friends with you?" He asks in a friendly but awkward tone.

"Nope. I'm alone. I'm just passing through this area." I respond calmly.

"Hmmm. Well, why don't you come with me. Then you wont be alone and I can show you a good time." He steps a little closer, now in my space bubble.

"I'm taken, actually. No thanks." I step back towards the door.

I really don't want to fight him. With an insatiable blood lust programmed into me, I might accidentally go too far. Especially with how active my aggression has been recently.

"I wasn't asking, sweetheart." He voice goes dark.

He steps closer and grabs my arm firmly. Our bodies are so close that we're almost touching. His grip on my arm gets tighter. He starts walking away from my room and pulling me with him. I follow willingly as he drags me along. We get to room 44 and he opens the door. I pull my arm from his grasp and push him inside, shutting the door on him. I start walking back, but I feel him grab my arm again. He puts his hand over my mouth and drags me into the room. Alright, I've had enough of this bullshit. I hook him in the jaw and he stumbles back. I crack him in the face again and he tumbles to the floor. I kick him in the gut multiple times, until he can't move anymore.

"You ever do shit like this again, I'm coming for you." I warn.

I grab my duffel bag and exit the room. I make it back to my room safely and unharmed. I lock the door and throw down my duffel bag. The room is falling apart at the seams. Wall paper tearing and a creaky bed. It has one queen bed and an old nightstand. It has a little stove and a mini fridge. It's really a pathetic place. The only lamp on the night stand is horrible at it's job, and flickers every now and then. The only window is covered by an ugly olive green curtain. The closet is completely empty, not including the spiderwebs and dust. Under me is a painfully bland tan carpet that looks like it hasn't been vacuumed in at least a month. The bathroom isn't much better. Blood stained while tiles make the floor, and the sink is super old and dirty. I wonder if the faucet even works still. Now wonder this place was so cheap. I plop down on the groaning bed and crash for the night.