пятнадцать

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пятнадцать. into the bitter end
" the real valentizina "

 into the bitter end" the real valentizina "

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I WASN'T EVER ONE TO ADMIT DEFEAT. It's not that complicated, I never truly felt defeat. I always won. I completed my missions, I de-attached myself when I needed to. It was always easy for me. I never had anything to lose, nothing to fight for but myself. And then I grew tired of having nothing. And I got this job. I got a family. I ran from my past, from a life I didn't want. But it seems like fate decided I was done running from who I was. Fate brought me to be tied in a chair, a camera pointed at me, with the feeling of cold fingers running against my exposed skin from the shirt dress I had chosen to wear.

I have hunted for less. Killed for more. But never have I hunted with this much pleasure. And I will admit that. I'm done running from my past. I know who I am. What I've done. Where I stand in society. And it sure isn't in a locked room under threat.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you... My best work yet."

The sack over my head only allowed me to see soft silhouettes, but her words confirmed my suspicions of the camera.

"Yet I suppose, the only one's watching are those who need the truth. Dr Spencer Reid however, was always smarter than all of you. One step ahead, he knew everything. Held her dirty little secrets. So I'm going to save him the pain."

Great. Now she has them captured. I wasn't sure how, but I had suspicions. Fighting a group was a lot easier than one person, the more you know. A group is clumsy - they get into each other's way, and when half of the BAU team weren't made out for fighting, it was an easy fight for them to lose. That's why they had me.

"Valentizina Alianovna."

The sack was ripped off my head, revealing, well, me. I saw myself in the viewfinder. Sadistic technique. She wanted to see me in pain. She wanted to see me suffer for the crimes that I've committed against her. I saw the bleeding on the side of my pounding temple, my black eye from the other day, the scars that ran down my arms from all my past fights. And I gave her what she wanted, my full attention to look back at my past. I sat, a blank stare on my face as I was faced with my past.

"A cold-blooded killer. A spy. An assassin. Trained in the depths of my academy, she became the best there was. Killed over hundreds. A gifted individual with a specific skill set she got from me. It was all me. She also really likes ballet! And who would have guessed! She's flawless at it because I taught her. And how did she repay me? She ran away. To the FBI. She attempted to run from the past. She always did run. And look where that got her. Back to me."

The scraping of a metal knife made me almost cringe, but as the sharp ring of it being picked up sounded out, it was followed by her wicked laugh.

𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆     SPENCER REIDWhere stories live. Discover now