FILE n°888 | SUBJECT RED
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hydra facility
sokovia, europe
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july, 2008
Sashenka had lost track of how much time she had been in the facility.
Pietro and Wanda had told her a few days ago that it had been a year since she had arrived here, cold and weak. Now, she was stronger, healthier, deadlier. This whole year, she knew they had been training her for something more. While Pietro and Wanda were running tests to determine whether or not they were fit to be experienced on, Sashenka was training and learning.
Every morning, at five am sharp, a guard would open the door of her cell and drag her out of it by the electric collar she had started wearing six months ago. The collar was designed to send sharp bursts of electricity in her neck every time she tried to fight off the guard or resist anything they would do to her. She would spend the next seven hours training with the cruelest of instructors in the facility who would throw punches and kicks in her stomach, legs, face. She learned to adapt, she learned to survive. It didn't matter that she was less than half his size of her instructors or that she was a six year old premature child who had only been kept alive thanks to a powerful serum.
She learnt to master her abilities and what they could do for her. She was faster than the average human, smarter than the smartest of them and could inflict pain in a hundred different ways in just a minute. Her hearing became sharper and she learned to move in a way that allowed her to practically blend into the shadows. She had a gift for stealth and was able to move around without so much as making a single sound. They hit and kicked her until she managed to dodge attacks, block them and more importantly, retaliate. She learned to climb and twist her body in ways that threw off her opponents.
The guards at the facility were overjoyed at her progress. They laughed and said, "Iz neye poluchitsya otlichnyy ubiytsa. Nash sobstvennyy tkach teney." She's going to make a great killer. Our very own weaver of the shadows.
That's where her new nickname came from. Tkach teney. The Shadow Weaver.
Once she was beaten to a bloody pulp, laying on the ground healing a broken noise or a twisted ankle, they would take her to the shooting range where she'd fire guns, throw knives and shoot arrows into the target. Usually, her targets were wood boards that were left in splinters after just an hour of training. But, yesterday they had brought a different target in.
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"Proyekt RED, voz'mi svoy luk, my khotim, chtoby ty strelyal po sleduyushchey tseli. Yesli ty promakhnesh'sya, Ivan zdes' budet metat' v tebya nozhi, poka ty stoish' pered etoy stenoy tam." Her instructor had gestured towards the metallic wall that was behind the wood targets. It was covered in faded blood, Sashenka had immediately noticed. Project RED, take your bow, we want you to fire at the next target. If you miss, Ivan over here will get to throw knives at you while you stand in front of that wall over there.
The five year old red head looked behind her, her eyes devoid of emotions, where Ivan was standing. He was a bulky man with a shaved head and ink all across his biceps. He was one of the many men who got to punch Sashenka's lights out every morning during her training. He was also one of the many men who would drag her out of her cage during the night to his room and keep her there while she couldn't defend herself against them. Every time she tried, electricity would pulse through her veins, making her spasm while he laughed.
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑 | romanoff-barnes ¹
Fanfiction- SHE WAS A SWEET, ROTTEN THING. Born dead, tossed in a metal coffin, reborn as an experiment, Subject RED was destined for great things. Not a child, not a girl, but a weapon. But what she would become was not a mere resuscitation of life. No, she...
