ALIEN ↠ b. barnes [I]

eighteen

       "DA!" YES! THE STRAWBERRY BLOND did three pirouettes, her passé still against her knee and her arms round and strong. Her head found a permanent spot as she turned the twirls into a fouetté, the girls around them gasping as they saw the woman's flawless moves.

       It had been five years since Allura had arrived at the Red Room, the woman driving herself to learn Ballet so she wouldn't be tortured. The bracelets around her wrists had made her healing completely vanish after not having hydrogen for so long, though her body had adapted nicely to the environment — yet, it still made her weaker and easier to manipulate.

       She landed on a croisé derriére, tumbling slightly but barely noticeable. Though Madame B noticed, the smile falling from her face as she rolled her eyes, the girls still amazed by her performance and clueless to the insignificant mistake.

       "Again." So she began the whole thing once more, repeating the entire choreography until it was beyond perfect even if it took her ten hours— which it did. Allura had a small drop of sweat going down her forehead, no strand of hair going out of her bun as she twirled and jumped on the dance floor.

       Her body was pleading her to stop, her breathing ragged as her toes, feet, arms, abdomen, neck, and knees hurt terribly. Whoever decided Ballet wasn't a sport should definitely try an entire professional session—they'd totally change their minds.

        "Enough!" Madame B ordered, the empty room falling silent as the woman examined Allura, the small whip on her hand as she hit it against her other hand threateningly. The strawberry blonde stood straight, the first position clear as green eyes looked in front of her but not at Madame B.

        The adult had to admit that the girl was extremely skilled. The most talented she had ever seen in years. She had managed to learn what an excellent ballerina learns in twelve years in less than five, and the fighting abilities she had been given in Jupiter and HYDRA made her an extraordinary soldier, assassin...

       A Black Widow.

       "Go." The asset immediately retired, her pace steady as she headed towards the room she shared with the oldest girls; their ages ranging from seventeen to nineteen. She lied down on the particular bed, her hands being chained beside her as well as her feet, a crystal cover coming on top of her.

        She sighed, falling asleep immediately as her body burned from head to toe, the fifteen hour ballet class having been exhausting for her— because of the lack of custom.

        Her mind wasn't as messed up when she slept, one of the reasons why they wiped her every morning, for three hours, seven days a week. She always dreamt about her life back home, the happy memories filling her brain for a few minutes before nightmares and memories from HYDRA and all the people she had killed ruined her peaceful night.

       The woman shivered in her sleep, the sounds of her screaming being blocked by the crystal cover. The girls slept, unaware of the strawberry blonde's calls for help as she slept, or how she called out for a name that brought her comfort.

       Morning came as fast as night did, Allura being woken and the room already empty; since the girls woke up before the HYDRA agents could take her to the wiping. Like everyday, the strawberry blonde felt the metal against her skin, the electricity running through her veins like poison as her memories were no more.

        She screamed in pain, her body going forward and backward aggressively as the third hour passed, her body clear of any experience beforehand and only her programming raising in her head: