"WE MUST ALL BE INSANE TO RACE RECKLESSLY ABOUT IN A WORLD FILLED WITH WITH SO MANY SHARP AND POINTED DANGERS. THAT'S JUST ASKING FOR TROUBLE."
in which valentina popov discovers her true identity and tries to reconcile with her nightmares.
first bo...
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ACT I, part i, chapter two : rassolnik
: ̗̀➛
10:41 AM. APRIL 10th, 2014.
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THE last thing she remembered was collapsing in a backyard garden. Her gunshot wound in the leg finally got to her and she just couldn't go on any further. Madame B would be disappointed. Valentina's eyes finally fluttered open from a deep, silent sleep. There was barely any light coming into the room.
Was she still at the academy? Was last night all a dream...a horrible nightmare?
The smell of cooked pork and cucumbers wafted into the small room. No, this wasn't the academy.
Her body felt so sore and so tired. The most she could do was turn her neck every so often to scan the area she was in.
It was a bit dingy; the chipped grey paint, dimming lights and her bed constantly creaked with even the slightest motion.
"Gde ya?" Where am I? She muttered to herself. Valentina tried to prop herself, readying to escape this unknown place.
"YA by ne stal etogo delat', devochka!" I wouldn't do that, girl! An old, stout woman entered the room with a bowl of steaming hot soup and a slim glass of water, setting it down on the nightstand next to the bed.
The assassin's eyes turned stern, almost deadly when the woman came closer. "Teper' davayte posmotrim na vashu nogu." Now let's take a look at that leg of yours.
The woman gently unwrapped the white bandages around the bottom of her right leg. Valentina was used to such rough treatment with her wounds. She felt...safe? What an odd feeling. "Tak tak tak. YA mog by prosto nazvat' vas super-zhenshchinoy s tem, kak bystro eto lechit. A teper' s"yesh'te svoy sup i otdokhnite." Well, well, well. I might just call you superwoman with how fast this is healing. Now have your soup and rest up.
"Podozhdite." Wait. Valentina requested. There was something familiar about this lady. Her facial features reminded her of someone she knows. Correction: someone she knew. Everyone she grew up with is dead the last time she checked, "Kto ty?" Who are you?
The old woman paused for a few minutes, "Nadezhda. Mozhete zvat' menya Nadezhda." Nadezhda. You can call me Nadezhda.
Nadezhda, what a pretty name for a kind woman.
Val didn't show it but she appreciated the forwardness. It may have been just a name but that act of courtesy was more than she got in the past year in the Red Room. She finally grabbed the bowl of soup from the wooden nightstand and began to cautiously sip every spoonful she took.
With a sad smile on her face, Nadezhda began to inquire about Valentina's origins,
"YA polagayu, vy prishli ot vzryvov v ogne, ne tak li?" I assume you came from the explosions in the forest, no?
Valentina froze. The fire. Yelena. Oh god, Yelena!
She immediately went back to eating her soup, refusing to answer the question almost like she was being tortured to. There was no need to submit to Nadezhda questioning no matter how innocent of a place the woman came from. She didn't need to hurt anymore than she did—at least not right now.
Nadezhda didn't push the subject anymore, noticing how distant the girl became. She felt sorrow for her, wondering who hurt her so badly to react that way to such a simple question. It was obvious she had been built up by hate and pain. "U menya davnym-davno rodilas' doch'. Oni zabrali yeye u menya. Moya malen'kaya Sofiya." My daughter was born a long time ago. They took her away from me. My little Sofia.
She paused, taking in a deep breath to compose her emotions. "YA znayu, chto oni zabrali yeye tuda, otkuda vy prishli, no menya zastavili zamolchat'. Bylo by glupo s moyey storony sprashivat', no vstrechali li vy kogda-nibud' devushku so svetlymi volosami i karimi glazami. YA prosto ... YA khochu znat', v poryadke li ona." I know they took her to where you came from but I was silenced. It might be stupid of me to ask but did you ever meet a girl with blonde hair and hazel eyes. I just...I want to know if she's okay.
Blonde hair and hazel eyes? It could have been any girl at the academy, but by the way this woman looked, she had to be Yelena's birth mother.
"YA ne znayu." I don't know.
Valentina answered so quickly and harshly that the woman was taken aback a bit.
Without another word, she carefully patted Val's arm and exited the room. The brunette finished her soup, sighing right after. She knew exactly where this woman's daughter was, crushed and burned under the rubble of a place that broke little girls down to heartless soldiers. She wouldn't say that though.
It was easier to lie. It was always easier to lie.
