The Widows Daughter

Part one-hundred and six

Moscow, Russia. May 20th, 2011.
(Chloe's POV)

The ground moved toward me rapidly even with the parachute open. My hair whipped around and my stomach dropped as I realized I was moments from crashing into the ground. My heart rate picked up and I panicked.

Something in me shifted and I fell through the harness and toward the ground until I fell right through it. I could feel the rocks and dirt pass through me and I felt a surge of panic flow through me. I forced myself upward until I pulled my body out from under the dirt.

I gasped for air, coughing. The metal-armed man stared at me in shock. I had fallen at least thirty feet and then through the ground. He seemingly shook himself out of the state he was in and unhooked his harness as he walked closer to me.

"I see why you are with me, malenʹkaya vedʹma." He said in Russian standing in front of me.

"I'm not a witch, so don't call me that," I spoke in French hoping to spite him. "Besides, I'm not the one with a metal arm."

"What?" He cocked his head as I stood brushing myself off.

"Nothing," I replied in Russian just to be nice. "Just...don't call me a witch, alright?"

"Alright," Silence filled the gap between us and I looked around for the first time. We were in the middle of a field. There was a tree lining a couple of hundred yards from where we stood, and a river behind us.

"Where do we go from here?" I asked fidgeting with the hem of my shirt.

I was wearing what I assumed was what a normal nine-year-old would wear. I had on a yellow long sleeve shirt, a pair of black jeans, and a black coat. It was the nicest, comfiest thing I had worn, ever, I think.

The soldier didn't answer me, but instead, started walking towards the tree line.

Oh, joy.

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Moscow was a beautiful city. It was a mix of old and new buildings. The soldier git a bike from somewhere—I didn't ask where from—and drove us around the city. He didn't speak to me unless he needed to.

We drove for about an hour until he stopped in front of a tall building. He gave the keys to the man outside the building and grabbed his bag off the bike. I followed his lead and ran to catch up with him.

He walked up to a set of doors and walked in when they opened. I stared at him not knowing what to do. "Get in." He said.

"What...what is it?" I asked standing a foot away from the doors.

He sighed seemingly agitated. "An elevator. Get in before someone gets suspicious."

"But-"

"You will be fine. Get in." He held out his hand in what I assume he thought would be a reassuring manner.

I grabbed his hand and held it tightly as the doors closed. We started moving and I squeezed his hand even tighter than before in fear. The doors couldn't open faster and I was never happier to be out of something than I was at that moment.

The soldier stood by me as I caught my breath. He didn't say anything, I don't even think he looked at me, but he stood there. Silently. Stoically. Like he was watching over me.

It was weirdly comforting.

He seemed to sense when I was better and he started walking away, so I followed. He walked a few dozen feet before stopping in front of a door and swiping a card in front of the handle. I followed behind him into the room and let out a quiet gasp.

He looked back at me in surprise. I closed my mouth quickly in fear and shame. I walked into a room with a man—a monster—twice my size and twice my age. I was suddenly not scared of what I would do later, but what height do.

He sat his bag down on one of the beds in the room before moving to the window. I stood still by the door and watched him. He didn't look at me as he started pulling out metal pieces from his bag. I realized after four pieces that he was putting together a gun.

A rifle to be exact from the look of it.

He set the gun in the window and turned to me. He looked at me expectantly. I stared at him waiting for him to speak but he didn't. He moved to grab a black thing from a shelf and held it out to me.

I took a few tentative steps before I could take it from him. I stared at the small black box with buttons before looking up at him. "Watch TV. We wait now." He said gesturing to the bed his bag wasn't on.

"What?"

"TV. Watch something." He took the small black box thing and pressed a button and what I assumed was the television, turned on. "Channels, sound, power."

I nodded mutely as he pointed to a set of buttons.

Channels, sound, power.

I laid my bag on the bed before jumping on it and laying down. I looked at the ceiling before setting up and pushing the channel button. I flipped through the channels until I found something that looked interesting. It was a show about a mother and daughter traveling around the world. Unfortunately, I only understood a little bit because it was in Russian and mine wasn't very good.

I looked back at the soldier and decided I should speak. "What's your name?"

"What?"

"Well, that man, he called you 'The Soldier', but you must have a real name." I shrugged.

"I-I don't. Why does it matter?" he stared out the window.

"Well, I feel like I should at least call you something.  I'm Chloe."

"I didn't ask." He spit and I flinched. He froze at my action before saying, "You can call me whatever you want."

"How about Oliver?" I suggested. He scowled but said nothing. "Oliver it is." I smiled as I sat back and watched the show playing.

Hey, I updated. Yay. This is a filler chapter and I know it sucks, I'm sorry. Bear with me please, the next part should be good.

Tell me what you guys thought, I love your comments.😁