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(warnings: suicidal thoughts/effects of the Red Room.)
R E D R O O M (location unknown)
May| 2016
She lost Marc Spector. She lost her assignment. She had failed.
"Balandin, as one of the highest skilled Widows, I thought you were better than this." His haunting voice, accented in Russian. Inside his office as the night grew older, casting shadows to keep him hidden. His large and intimidating silhouette making her breaths shorter.
Alex cleared her throat, she opened her mouth to respond until he spun around and slammed his hand on the table.
"You failed! You, never fail me! No one fails Dreykov!"
Shutting her mouth in cowardness, she put her head down. Dreykov snarled at her through his glasses. His combed back hair nice and neat. He wore a no- nonsense black suit coat adding to her fear. Equivalent to being paranoid of monsters lurking in the shadows when she was little. Most of those imaginations were weak and fake as a real monster, that haunted her every day, standing across from her.
"You were supposed to kill him! But you let him get away!" He said as spit sprayed out of his mouth as he dug his finger on the desk.
"I know sir." Alex replied, trying to maintain strength in her voice.
"Balandin, you and Agent Belova are my best agents. Both of you have the most, red in your legers. That's true, no?" Dreykov asked lowly as if Alex should be proud of her success.
He may have control over her mind and actions, but that didn't stop her from dreading every second she had to face him. Not knowing if she would live another day. Maybe she should have left Marc kill her instead so she could escape this panic room. She didn't believe in the afterlife, but living in hell sounded more appealing than thus nightmare.
The man treated her and the other girls like lab rats. Separating the weak and the strong. If there was a minor slip up, there was no guarantee for a second chance.
Alex finally nodded.
"Then how!? How could my top assasin fail to kill this man!?" He yelled as he approached her with rage.
After one deep breath, Alex cleared her throat once again. "Marc Spector isn't an ordinary man, sir. He wore a superhero suit of some sort that allowed him to heal. It gave him the advantage. "
Dreykov clenched his fat jaw as his mouth straightened into a line of disappointment. "Still no excuse for you to fail!" He came closer to her as she could smell the awful mix of alcohol and colone. Both scents clashing, causing her nose to clog and to keep herself from gagging.
