KillSwitch ─ s. rogers ✓

five

This is all Google Translate Russian, so if you know actual Russian, feel free to correct me.

★★★

1955

IT WAS eight-thirty at night when Alexandra finally stepped out onto her friend's front stoop, shutting the door gently behind herself. The stone stairs were coated in a thin layer of iced-over snow that crunched beneath her shoes as she hopped down each step, creating little fault lines. Flakes were still coming down, and she smiled as they landed on her eyelashes. Alexandra loved the snow at night, loved the way it looked when New York City was covered in a blanket of white. She made a mental note to pull her brother out of bed early the next morning to go to the park down the street.

In front of Jacqueline's house, the sidewalk was deserted, or at least as deserted as a New York street could be. Alexandra could hear only a few pairs of footsteps crunching behind her, and there were at most three people ahead of her. The city was always quietest when it snowed, a fact she appreciated greatly. There was nothing worse than being caught in a standstill in the dark.

Alexandra came to a halt at the end of the street, as did everyone else within five feet of her. She was caught at the center of a circle, struggling to see whether it was safe to cross the street. After a few moments, the man in front of her stepped into the crosswalk. Her feet moved to follow him, but the collar of her coat was caught on something. She turned her head to the best of her ability to face a man wearing a thick jacket and a mask.

"Let—" Alexandra began to yell, but the man clamped a hand against her mouth. It felt freezing and smooth on her lips, like it was some sort of metal. His other hand snaked around her midsection and lifted her squirming body off the ground. He carried her into an alley, her screams muffled by his hand. Alexandra's limbs suddenly snapped out stick-straight, prompted by a pinching sensation in her neck.

"What did you do to me?" she asked the second the metal hand left her mouth. His other arm was still wrapped securely around her waist, his bony elbow pressing into her stomach.

"Eto ne imeyet znacheniya," he said gruffly. It doesn't matter.

"Let me go!" Alexandra shrieked, trying to pry the man's fingers from her body. Her eyelids began to droop, opening and closing slower and slower. "Let me go."

The man heaved her over his shoulder.

"Zatknis'." Shut up.

Alexandra felt the man jump onto the nearest fire escape, his shoulder jamming into her stomach, but she couldn't see anything. She was only vaguely aware of the fact that her captor was jumping from building to building as she slipped in and out of consciousness until finally, her body went limp in the arms of the man. He ducked into the shadows once more, taking Alexandra with him.

★★★

By the time she was unloaded from the trunk of a car three days later, Alexandra was pretty sure she wasn't in New York anymore. It was still snowing, but as someone lifted her up, she could see that they were in the middle of nowhere, in front of a rock structure. Right in the middle of the structure sat two massive metal doors that began to open slowly. She writhed in the metal-armed man's grip, causing him to drop her. Alexandra sank into the snow like it was her old friend, but their meeting was cut short by the metal-armed man yanking her off the ground. While she was out, shackles had been attached to her arms and ankles. Cold metal handcuffs bit into her forearms as she tried to struggle away. It was no use.

"Vvedi yeye vnutr'," someone said. Get her inside. The metal-armed man, along with at least four other gun-toting men, stepped into the facility. He turned down a long hallway, entourage not far behind, and stopped when he came to an unmarked door. A member of his entourage opened the door and shoved the metal-armed man inside. Alexandra looked up and saw a group of people wearing lab coats standing at the center of the room. One of them came forward.

"Polozhite yeye v etot stul, soldat. Svyazhite yeye, chtoby ona ne mogla dvigat'sya," he said. Put her in that chair, soldier. Tie her down so she can't move.

Obediently, the soldier pulled Alexandra off his shoulder and dumped her in the examination chair. She winced when her body smacked the cold surface, but she didn't dare make a sound. Another man wrapped a rope around her and tied it behind the chair. The lab coat man who spoke a moment ago picked up Alexandra's arm with his gloved hand.

"Eto budet vse, soldat," he said to the soldier. Then he looked to the men with the guns. "Vernite yego v svoyu kameru." That will be all, soldier. Take him back to his cell.

One guy shoved the end of his gun into the soldier. "Pereyekhat'!" Move!

He and his comrades led the soldier out of the room. The scientist began assembling something while several others watched in silence. Alexandra's scared eyes were glued to the syringe in his hands. A thin plastic tube snaked out of it and attached to a vial. They wanted her blood, she realized as the scientist wiped her inner elbow with what smelled like rubbing alcohol. She knew she should fight back, but she was paralyzed with fear.

"Nachalo dobychi," the scientist said. Beginning the extraction.

He proceeded to stab her with the needle. Blood flowed through the tube, filling the glass vial. When it couldn't fit anymore, the man replaced it with another. This process repeated another eight times before he finally removed the needle.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Alexandra asked before she could stop herself. The scientist glared at her.

"We did not go to all of this trouble for you to flap your stupid lips," he said in heavily accented English. "Keep quiet, girl, before my friend here puts his knife in your mouth and cuts out your tongue." His gaze flickered to the silent audience. "Vytashchite yeye otsyuda, vy, debily! Zakroy yeye." Get her out of here, you morons! Lock her up.

Alexandra felt the rope around her fall to the ground. Someone's hand wrapped around her arm and yanked it, sending her toppling onto the floor. The scientist pressed the sole of his boot into her hand, causing her to screech.

"Get up." A man holding a machine gun pressed it to her temple. Alexandra stood slowly, and the second she was upright, she felt the end of the gun slam into her back. She took this as her cue to walk, exiting the room and turning down the hall.

"Faster!" someone else yelled from behind her. She sped up. When they came to a second hallway, the gun struck her in the back again. Alexandra took a sharp left, then came to a halt in front of a closed metal door. There was a rectangular hole that revealed a layer of jail cell bars, and behind those, at the center of the room, sat the soldier.

"Move!" gun man ordered. She did not move. Her eyes were caught on the sad-looking man with an overgrown mop of brown hair. The soldier stared mindlessly at the grey wall in front of him, not looking at her once.

"I said move, you idiot!" This time, it was the back of the gun that struck her right between the shoulder blades. Fighting back tears, she continued down the hall until she was told to stop. They stood in front of a small room identical to the one the soldier had been in. The man with a gun shoved her inside and slammed the bars closed behind her. The big metal door shut, leaving only the rectangular hole for her to look through. When Alexandra was sure that the men were gone, she slid to the floor and began to weep. She missed her mom, her step-dad, her little brother, and the framed photo of her dad on the nightstand. She longed for those afternoons spent at her best friend Jacqueline's house, laughing and flipping through magazines instead of doing homework. She wanted to breathe in the New York City air that smelled of car exhaust and infidelity one last time, simply because it was home. She wanted one last snow day. Her whole body convulsed with fear, unable to manage the pain of knowing she'd never hear her mother's voice again.

Alexandra spent the next hour on the cement floor, tears streaming down her face until her eyes couldn't take it anymore. Her breathing began to slow, little by little, and eventually she fell asleep, hoping, praying, that somehow she'd find a way out.