BLACK WIDOW

mirifical

mirifical
(adj.)
amazing, wondrous, working wonders

•••

"We used our imagination a lot. It was the only way to truly get away. A lot of the times it was all we had."

•••

Light flooded into the stuffy, humid room, waking Natalia in the sweetest way she ever had. No metal chain bruising her wrist. No screaming Madame. It was completely peaceful. She opened her eyes and looked around the room to see that the curtain had just been opened.

"We need to get moving," said James."The Russian spy density is still extremely high in Belarus."

And the mood is ruined.

"They don't want anyone to know who we are though," said Natalia, not wanting to believe that they could still actually get to them. "And really, if we fight back, how are they going to take us back?"

He sighed. "There is no telling what they may have told the spies. And you very well know what kind of weapons they have. And then... what they do to me: they'll do to both of us."

"Kurosho. Let's go," she said ruffling her hair and beginning to roll it into a tight bun.

"Here, I'll braid to you head before we go. It's getting warmer outside," he offered, holding out his hands.

<Okay,> she agreed, Turing around and leaning her head back. James reached inside his back and pulled out a fingerless glove that had grip on it and pulled it over his slick, silver left hand.

Quickly he weaved her crimson hair in and out and around until it was in tight, well done French braid.

They both grabbed their bags and took a few swift steps toward the door. "You wiped the room, da?"

"Yeah," he said. "We wouldn't know that we were here."

And they sent off, well disguised with a skip in their step. They walked the dirty, secluded streets of the capital city of Belarus, knowing they were less likely to be sighted.

Even though this place was a separate country, Soviet Russia had made its way out here, too, meaning Soviet spies and hired watchmen everywhere. Every citizen were paid or forced—depending on where you live—to look out for everything and inform the Union for anything asked for or any they would consider to be suspicious. Some would keep quiet, but if they were caught, they would surely be punished. Death or the Gulag. Every time.

When the day was over, they traveled almost halfway between Minsk and the border of Poland. They could have boarded a train or stole a car, but it would have only raised suspicions and gives clues to anyone investigating their disappearance. They slept in another motel and continued on their way.

They walked along the sidewalk of a back alley away from the wandering eye the people. The sights weren't the most envious. The smells weren't the most alluring. But the fact that they were away from their prison with each other was enough.

<I was thinking,> Natalia express.

<That can't be good,> James said with a laugh. They were both speaking in Russian to blend in better to the country. They could speak Belrussian, but in the county, due to the overtake of Russia, more people spoke Russian than their original language.

She rolled her eyes and smiled at his teasing. <I was thinking,> she repeated. <Well— I was wondering more-so. What our lives would have been like if the Red Room didn't exist.>