Viviana P.O.V
I'm back at the red room. Why was I back here? Mom and I escaped this god-forsaken place five years ago. You know what, get the heck out now, ponder later even if this this place is familiar in a sick, twisted sort of way. As soon as I realize this, I also realize what's so familiar. The pain. I haven't felt this much soreness since I left. It's been a while since they tortured me. Ripped my skin from it's bones until I bled. Dumped buckets of ice cold water on me just to see me shiver. I could keep going, but it's too depressing. I didn't even know when the pain would end.
The first day, she sang to me. She started by humming a simple soothing tune. Next, mom would begin to sing. The sound of her soothing voice slowly emcompasses my memory, the lyrics becoming clearer as she sings to my younger self.
"Where the dreamy Volga flows,
There's a lonely Russian Rose
Gazing tenderly
Down upon her knee
Where a baby's blue eyes glisten
Listen
Every night you'll hear her croon
A Russian lullaby
Just a little plaintive tune
When baby starts to cry
Rock-a-bye my baby
Somewhere there may be
A land that's free for you and me
And a Russian lullaby"
The memory fades. That was the first and only time she would sing for me in our time there. I find myself crying, aggravating the soreness of my torso. I wish she was here now. To soothe me. To hold me the way she did when I was little. Unfourtenetly, the not the way it goes here. Mom isn't here. I wish she was. This thought pushes me over the edge. Before I know it, I'm crying for my mother again. I wanted her to make this pain end.
Not physical pain. I already did that.This pain was mental. But the physical torment would follow, even if I didn't know when. When it arrived, and god did it arrive, it was beyond the level my then five year old selfcould handle. Bruised arms. Broken wrist. Cracked ribs. But, after a while, I got used to them. I grew harder. I became something more than human flesh . I was rough stone, polished into marble. The madame said this was neccesary for me to take my place in the world and make up for the failures of my parents. The madame speaks. "You will finish what they started Viviana. You will take their place".
Without warning, her voice is suddenly joined by thousands of others, thus truly beggining the mental anguish.
"Can you see her?"
"Hulk....Smash!"
"I need those eggs, Charlie"
"Now, everyone read chapter 3 tonight"
"Make those copies and file them under".....
It got worse, until I could hear everyone's thoughts all at once. The voices echoing off of each other, chasing each other around and around. Suddenly, I could make out one word admist the seemingly neverending chaos. One name. My name. Who was calling me? What did they want?
YOU ARE READING
Widow's Venom
FanfictionCover by @spiderkru Natasha Romanoff has no one she cares about that isn't a hero. Is it so wrong to want someone normal in her life to care about, maybe even love? Cue Viviana Romanoff, who has only been trying to survive Hydra. She's been abused...
