Red Room

RR66 Burning Cities and Napalm Skies

Natasha was in a trance. She watched as the blood slowly dripped from her nose, splattering onto her leg, and then rolling off her sweat covered skin, puddling onto the grimy, dark floor. The door slamming shut had startled her awake, but she couldn't bring herself to remember who had been in here in order to even shut it in the first place. She quickly found that if she didn't move, she didn't hurt, so she tried her hardest to remember what she was doing here to end up in this position. Another drop fell from her nose and onto her leg, repeating the same events as the last time. Drip, splatter, pool, drip, splatter, pool...The red pool collecting and slowly growing at her feet threatened to cover the entire room if it didn't stop soon. Drip, splatter, pool, red, room. Oh yeah, Red Room. If she could have smiled at the realization, she would have, but even the slightest twitch took a toll on her, the simplest thoughts made her exhausted. It was better to just continue what she was doing and watch as the crimson coming from her body added to the pool around her.

Not even a minute after being startled awake, the door opened with such an explosion that she thought she would go deaf. Reflexes made her gaze tear away from her task of watching the drops and she grimaced at the effort. After she realized that the door did not explode, she recalled how her body was bent on betraying her as every nerve in her being was set to high alert. Her eyes met those of an older woman with gray hair as she moved into the room, closing the door behind her in another explosion of sound. Natasha squeezed her eyes closed in response and when she opened them again, the woman was gone. She knew that she was behind her though, circling her like trapped prey while bound to a chair. The slight currents of air that moved with the woman felt as if they were slicing into her skin. It took more effort than she cared to admit to push the feeling away. She had to steel herself for whatever was coming next, although she couldn't imagine it being any worse than what Yuri had just put her through.

"I'm still not giving Yuri a damn thing," she choked out when the woman stopped in front of her and paused. The effort it took to speak had stolen most of the air from her lungs and they screamed at her in response. When the woman didn't respond, Natasha became even more confused. Why was there an old woman here? She didn't look very threatening, although the look in her eyes gave Natasha a very uneasy feeling. Her silver hair caught the dim light in the room that almost caused it to glow, but Natasha tore her eyes away from that and to the ugly scar on her chest. She averted her gaze when the woman's features changed into a grin when she stepped closer to her. She brought her hand up to brush it against her cheek, but Natasha shied away from the hand that would no doubt ignite fire beneath her skin.

"My name is Anacostia," the woman finally said, breaking the silence in the room. "Does that mean anything to you?" When Natasha said nothing in return, the woman shot her hand out more and struck her across the cheek for her defiance. The resulting grunt of pain from Natasha did little to satisfy her revenge.

When Natasha gained some composure back, she responded with a 'no' and then averted her gaze, almost submissively.

Anacostia grinned at the action and then looked at her in disappointment. "Of course, it doesn't, why should it?"

Confusion crossed Natasha's face for only a moment until the door opened once more and Anacostia disappeared behind her. At the same time, flames erupted around the room and surrounded her, igniting a fear that she had fought so hard to keep buried. Due to the effects of the serum, it felt as if the flames were under her skin, blistering her from within. Her heart began to race in panic, and she fought to remain in control. Her mind kept throwing her back to the tortures Ivan had her go through, the tortures she had tried so hard to forget. Across the wall of fire, she could see a small figure, staring through the flames and looking lost.

Ignoring the pain, she struggled to break free of her binds when she realized that it was a young girl, about 12 years old, staring back at her. The binds released her suddenly as if they had been cut, and she fell from the chair, stopping short of the wall of flames as her limbs refused to help her. The agony of hitting the floor caused her to cry out once again, and she recoiled from the flames after realizing how close she was to it. The fear of the inferno as well as her abused form made her want to curl into a ball and forget everything that was going on around her...but the girl. Agonizingly pulling herself to her knees, she looked though the flames and shivered violently when the girl seemed to stare back at her in terror.