D A R K

N A T A L I A

THEN

The Red Room was a place of darkness, enshrouded with hatred and fear. Only monsters could thrive in a place like that, Natalia just had to adapt.

Natalia Alianovna Romonova was short for her age with bright red hair that stood out in the sea of blondes and brunettes, constantly being bullied for her weaknesses. They would soon beat it out of her anyway. The older girls would knock her down, put gum in her long red hair, Kick her in the shins and slap her until her lips drew blood. They were jealous, why should they have to share their dorm with a whining seven year old? They were twelve, closer to their graduation than her. She was dirt compared to them.

She was taken from her family, just like every other girl. Given a new life, a new purpose. She belonged to Mother Russia, belonged to the hands of her KGB handlers, belonged to General Dreykov. She was defiant at first, hopeful her mama would come back for her. Her naivity would get her killed.

She wouldn't stop crying, Madame B tried to silence her. Wrapping her hands over Natalia, trying to suffocate her, to demonstrate that crying will be reprimanded. It was a disgusting weakness, the Red Room would only raise girls made out of iron. If they were too brittle they would be neutralised. Natalia, being the stubborn little girl she was, bit Madame B hard. She shrieked, pulling her hand off of Natalia's mouth before slapping the brat across her face and dragging her by her wrist to the place all little girls dreaded to go.

Natalia screamed, cried and dragged and pushed her feet on the floor. Trying to prevent what she knew was coming, Madame B smirked taking great pleasure in the girls discomfort. "Now now Natalia, don't you know what happens to disobedient little girls?. She yanked her wrist, throwing her into the damp room. The door shutting behind Natalia with the harsh sound of the lock being put in place, any hint of light was burnt out of the room.

The room was small, barely enough for Natalia to stand up in. The walls were made of stone, rough and cold. They were suffocating her. The lack of windows scared her the most, there was no escape and no light. No way to tell what time of day it was or how long she was in there. The walls felt like they were closing in on her. Hours passed by, Natalia sat huddled in the corner of the dark room. The seven year olds arms wrapped tightly around her small frame. Left alone in this nightmare to think about her behaviour, to mentally torture her. To create some sort of twisted allegiance to the Red Room. Stockholm Syndrome to an institution. To stay on their good side. She was hungry and thirsty, covered in dust. The darkness wrapping around her like a thick weighted blanket, adding to her sense of distress and despair.

She could call out for help, but who would listen? She had no mother, they told her that her mama didn't love her anymore. That she was tossed away like trash, sick of her whining, she had no one now. The Red Room would be her home. The silence of the room was oppressive, oppressive like the Soviet regime in which she was under. Her breathing and silent sobs breaking the deafining silence every now and then. She was reminded of her helpless and how small she really was.

Natalia's weakness ate her alive, she began kicking and screaming, banging her tiny fists against the door. Begging to be let out, to see the light. She screamed that she would be good, that she would do anything. That she was sorry. Madame B simply laughed at her futile attempts on the other side if the door. This child had to learn.

Present

Natalia shook awake, her nightmare startling her for a second, although she didn't show any signs of fear. She was too sophisticated and trained to show such a weakness. Natalia wasn't the frightened little girl locked in that dark room anymore, or that is what she told herself. She was only confused for a split second, the new location throwing her off her usual performance, leaving her disorientated. She was with S.H.I.E.L.D now, she was safe. Her instincts screaming at her to break free, to escape. But she needed to do this, Clint Barton had given her a chance, a new purpose, a way to clear the red of her ledger. To wipe away the sins of the children's ward massacre, Dreykov's daughter and Oksana.