Red Room

practice

Katya's gaze hardened as she tightened the ribbons around her ankles. Her black point shoes almost too tight for her. 

Standing from the ground Katya stepped into the limited light that the dance room provided. The girl positioned her feet in fourth position, listening carefully as the light piano music began. 

And then she danced. 

Madame B's hard stare bore into the raven haired girl's back. Each movement under scrutiny. The elite of the underground black market were coming to the showcase. 

Madame B's black widows were highly anticipated and every organization wanted a widow of their own. 

Although they wouldn't be showcasing their fighting skills the elegance of an assassin was what drew in the viewers. 

Katya bowed as the music ended, her routine practically flawless. Out of all the widows Madame B would say that Katya improved the most. She was also the most disciplined. 

Katya rarely spoke and never messed up. All of the girls feared her- although they would never show it. But in her years in the red room she had developed a cold exterior. 

Out of all the widows Katya had forgotten the most. She no longer remembered anything from her past life. She no longer had doubts about the red room. 

In fact she barely remembered her own last name. 

It always got stuck at the end of her tongue and she could not force herself to associate with it. Despite Natalia's constant reminders of her past Katya felt no connection to it. 

She was in fact the perfect assassin. 

And they all knew it. 

Katya moved to the side of the room, allowing the next widow to step forward and begin her routine. With dull eyes the raven haired girl began to undo the ribbons around her ankles. 

Brushing her baby hair's off her face Katya glanced up at the girl practicing. Her eyes immediately taking notice of the slight falter of her ankle as she rose to the tips of her toes. 

"Sloppy." She muttered, the girl preforming faltering under the top student's observation. 

Katya's frown deepened as the girl practically fell forward. A small scoff leaving her lips.

With tears brimming her eyes the girl looked up to Katya, the raven haired girl a lot scarier than Madame B. "I'm sorry." She muttered, her Russian accent thick as she attempted to speak English. 

"Don't bother." And with that she left the room, leaving behind a grinning and proud teacher.