└> 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 ❜
. . . ♪♪♪ : 𝗌𝗐𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗀 - 𝖽𝗎𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝖺
can you really put a past behind when it's full of bright red? can a ledger so dark and bloody be covered up? can it really be possible to run from a wave of a crimson past...
PART I ━━ 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲. · 。ﾟ୧ ⋆. SWAN SONG. ₊˚.༄ ━━━ VALENTIZINA: THE ORIGIN ❝ innocence ❞
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SHE STILL REMEMBERED February 1st like yesterday. She remembered the little Valentizina Alianovna being the only five-year-old in the room to not make a sound. Her eyes were incapable of producing tears - even in this situation it seemed. She simply stood like a ragged doll, ready to be pushed and pulled around by the man standing around her. A recollection of senses haunted her to this day. The feeling of a stranger's dry hands that wrapped around her thumb, lowering it further into the bowl of blood beside them. There was little of it, in a little China bowl too, yet still, the sticky substance was thick enough for Valentizina to grow a disliking towards the feeling. Almost as if she was surrendering to his commands, her hand fell limp in disgust, only making the job easier. For a five year old, the stench was by far the least important part. Yet for this five year old, only the stench seemed to bother her. The smell of almost nothing but everything at the same time. Of metal. Of something rotten. Yet breathe deeper, and the smell had faded into nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Valentizina's eyes stayed plastered onto the file below her, reading every word with more ease than the surrounding children.
Gifted, the man behind her thought. He noticed how her head moved from one side of the page to another, reading all the details about herself. As if it was new information she hadn't known before.
Full Name: Valentizina Nadia Alianovna Birth Date: 01/01/1982 Nationality: British -Russian
His slender fingers tightened around her thumb, pressing it down on the paper beside the word thumbprint. Her little, feathery brows furrowed, asking herself why they needed it. But god forbid she asked them. It was all too strange. She was only young.
The five year old looked up at the crying and squealing children who tried to escape the grip of the guards, being pushed towards the right.
Yet she felt her body being spun around to face the man who knelt down, eye level to the red headed child. Her blue doe eyes narrowed in question at the guard, an act that the man took into consideration. Curiosity. Her heart didn't beat fast - nor did it skip a beat faster. It remained its calming, steady state.
"Ты боишься?" Are you afraid?
The girl looked around, taking in her surroundings. The screams. The curse words. The blood splattering everywhere. The fits the children were causing...
Within, there was a void in where fear should be.
Should she have been scared? Valentizina did not know. She was raised in these conditions. This was like a second home.
