⧗𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝚆𝙸𝙳𝙾𝚆⧗ - 𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙴𝚂(𝙾𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕)

-𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍-

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌
𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀, 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐀
1997

“Siberian Overture ”

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌,

escorted by guards like all those many years ago. When they reached her room they tugged the blindfold off and she was allowed to go to her room, inside no different than it had been six years ago.

A metal room with a small cot and a thin blanket to keep her warm against the Russian cold. Walking into her room, she sat down on her cot and brought her sore legs up as she hugged herself for warmth. 

The room was quiet and it was moments like this where she sat and thought about her sisters, Natalia and Yelena.

She wondered if they remembered her or missed her like she did them, if it had been real for them too.

Sometimes when she laid to sleep at night, she pretended the walls of her room were yellow and pink instead of steel grey and that her blanket had flowers rather than being the dark color of the blanket she had wrapped around her and that she could feel the warm press of lips of her forehead telling her goodnight.

Maggie knew thinking of those three years would bring her pain, but it was a better pain than one she endured day in and out from being trained by the Red Room.

It was her escape from everything, from the doctors injecting her with things or being forced to commit the heinous acts that the hell she was to call training made her do.

There were some days in the beginning that Maggie had in her the spirit to fight back against the regime of the Red Room, she would be stubborn or purposely fail just to piss them off and it had worked for a while.

She wanted to say her stubborn nature had been worth it, but when she looked back on it now in the coldness of her room she didn’t know if the outcome of her defiance was worth them using those words on her in retaliation. 

Those horrible words, those horrible eleven words. Maggie sometimes in the middle of night could still feel the shocks of electricity and the men training the words into her head, to bend and submit to their will.

Making her wake in painful gasps and shakes as if she could still feel the shocks run through her body.

Like her body was still fighting off the shocks but when they would die down she would just sit on her bed and hold herself as she shook from it all. 

 Feeling only the cold air on her body as she tried not to cry from the ghost and voices of those she had hurt, haunt her. The nightmares of the mind training would lead to other nightmares, ones of ghosts and pain.

The only reason they forced those words was when she had been defiant to their demands, when she wouldn’t do the training or comply with the medical procedures.

When she would try to fight back and keep some little shred of humanity that was left in her. And when that would happen one of her handlers would grab the little red book with the black star on it and begin to read from it. 

“Toska.” Longing.

“Rzhavet.” Rusted.

“Semnadtsat.” Seventeen.

“Rassvet.” Daybreak.

“Pech’.” Furnace.

“Devyat.” Nine.

“Dobrokachestvennyy.” Benign.

“Vozvrascheniye.” Homecoming.

“Odin.” One.

“Gruzovoy Vagon.” Freight Car.

With those words she became their little submissive girl who would follow the whims of the Red Room training or the medical procedures they wanted from her.

When using her words, it would send her into an almost mental catatonic state. 

Where she would vaguely remember the things she had done, but her memory would be spotty or just completely gone, and when the Red Room was done with her they always used one special word to bring her back out from the persona they made of her. To bring Maggie back from being the cruel Red Widow. 

“Spokoystviye.” Peace. 

The irony and mockery that the word to bring her from her destructive and cruel persona was the word peace. The first time they had trained the words into her.

She could remember how she had screamed against the mouth guard and fought to free herself from the straps of the chair they had binded her to, still haunted the young girl to this day. 

 Then when she was herself again, her memories were nothing but gaping holes in her mind, and the scariest thing was to come back to her own mind and not truly knowing what she had done.

But to either see the blood or the weapon on her hands, and to see the pleased smirks on the instructor’s faces, gave her all the knowledge she needed to know what horrendous things she had done. 

The whispers of the people who she hurt haunting her and the cruel nickname she had earned from the other girls at the Academy for her vicious and precise execution of her training as the Red Widow.

“Berserker.” they had gifted her, for the trance-like state she would go in when the words were whispered in her ear. 

 She had learned to just comply with what they wanted from her from then on. Even if it made her sick and haunted her dreams at night or the memories of her actions visited her in her room. Better in her mind to have semblance of control rather than lose it all and wake up again to not know what she had done. 

Maggie told herself after they had used the words on her the first time, in the quietness of her room shaking from everything.

That no matter what they did to her, whether they tore her apart limb from limb to rebuild her to their version of perfection or take her sanity away to be the perfect soldier. 

They would never take her heart, not the Red Room or Dreykov. That was the one thing she wasn’t willing to let them take and corrupt to their whims, she would take the last bit of advice Melina gave to her and her sisters. 

‘Don’t let them take your heart.' and she wouldn’t. 

°•☆•°Author's Note°•☆•° ~

Hi guys, here's part two of the chapter. I hope you are enjoying the story and don't worry we are going to be seeing a very special character soon. We are also going to have more Natasha scenes as well. Because I miss the sister duo and I have so many sister moments planned out.

What do you guys think of Maggie’s journey so far?Again would love to hear feedback from you guys.

Thank you again for reading and be safe.

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