sympathy for the devil | natasha romanoff

chapter ii. dec 1947

UNKNOWN, 1947

COLD METAL made contact with warm flesh as a gun was pressed into the young girl's hand.

She stood in the centre of a bleak, grey room facing a blindfolded man on a chair. The girl shook as her fingers held the weapon next to her thigh.

Her mind was chaotic as she stared at the man in the chair. The blonde didn't know why or how but she knew that this was wrong; that murder was wrong.

How did she know this? Why did she know this?

Suddenly, a memory assaulted her; she could see her mother, her beautiful but wilting mother, holding her close as she kissed her flaxen waves.

"I love you, sweetheart," the woman told her, smiling despite the tear tracks left in the wake of the girl's father, "never forget that."

A moment of clarity came upon her, and the girl cried out as she began to remember.

I am Livia Foy, the girl thought to herself, fighting against an invisible restraint within her head, I am Livia Foy and I will not obey you!

With an inner strength she didn't know she had, Livia smashed apart the mental lock that the organisation she learnt to know as HYDRA had upon her head.

The girl of ten dropped the gun to the floor with a resounding CLANG! and let out a simple, "no."

In that moment, she felt so strong; so invincible. She had beaten them.

It all came crashing down when Zola had another shoot the man. Livia didn't even have the time to widen her eyes in horror before hands seized her from behind, and began yanking her down the hallways.

The little girl screamed and fought and bit, she even managed to shove a few HYDRA Agents off of her due to the formula Zola had injected in her when she'd first arrived there. It was of no use, however, as there were too many of her and nobody had taught her how to fight.

Zola said a weapon wasn't useful unless it would obey the one who pulled the trigger. Livia was still fighting, and thus not obeying so was yet to be trained.

They had began heading in the direction of The Chair which had Livia stiffening in fear and attempting to dig her heels in. One of the Agents has to kick the back of her knees hard to make her move, but they hadn't even made it to the door before a familiar voice called out, "no."

The guards turned with her to face Zola, whom had followed them from the grey room. His eyes regarded her with disappointment, his mouth set in a thin line.

Zola's decision forced her to take a deep breath of relief. When the man noticed, the line of his mouth curved upwards.

"The girl is resisting the effects of The Chair currently. Do with her what we did to Barnes; do not return her here until she has broken," the way Zola's smile grew with each word he spoke made Livia's stomach drop with realisation.

Whatever was in store for her was worse than The Chair.

~•~•~•~

CRACK! Livia screeched as her ribs broke, the metal of the Agent's boots snapping them like a twig. She curled up into a ball as she desperately tried to protect her stomach and head.

She cried harder as they stomped on her head and ruthlessly battered her back. When they got fed up of her back, they picked her up, three soldiers holding each of her arms apart to expose her front as an Agent with knuckle-duster slammed his fist into her face over and over again.