CHAPTER NINE; BLACK WIDOW

❝ me and the devil, walking side by side ❞

･ ｡ﾟ☆

❝ the red room [ dreykov's office ] ❞

"THIS PLACE ISN'T MY HOME," insisted the Draganov teenager resisting him still. The old man tilted his head laughing at her, it drove her mad how he thought he could laugh at her. Her blood boiled, so much so she wished she could make his do the same, literally. She stayed perfectly still seeing the metal soldier lying in wait in the corner.

Backing away and returning to his desk where he once stood Dreykov said, "It is, and soon you will see just how much everyone missed you, moy klinok."

In Russian Alina instantly snapped, "YA bol'she ne tvoye oruzhiye! YA Alina Draganov, a ne tvoy klinok." Alina promised herself when she left, she would never, ever be Dreykovs 'blade' again. He had always called her his blade because that was all she was to him, but that was not all Alina was.

"Your time with Natasha has worn off on you," Dreykov laughed at her.

This time Melina finally spoke up asking, "What about Romanoff?"

Dreykov slowly fixed his attention on Melina, lowering himself down to her he said, "She, like Alina, is a traitor. She turned her back on her people. On her blood. She had nothing. I gave her home. I gave her love.' With his arms on her chair boxing her in the entire time Dreykov finished, "Put that thing in her you do. You know, uh, chemicals. Turn her into one of your pigs. Can you imagine what I could do with an Avenger under my control?"

"Wouldn't you like to speak to her first," asked Melina.

"When you look into the eyes of a child you have raised, no mask in the world can hide that," Dreykov deduced sitting up. He reached for her face, only to have 'Melina' block his hand for a moment. Eventually she relented allowing him to take of the mask covering her true identity, Natasha, "Welcome home."

Seemingly in a rage, the soldier pulled out their gun pointing it at Natasha. Dreykov held up his hand to stop them warning, "Now, now. Don't go breaking my new toy." Turning his attention back to Alina he began, "I knew from the moment we met, one day you would escape. Our methods of control would never be fully proof on you, yet I never expected you to go to an Amercian school."

Alina swallowed hard at his words, "Date American boys," he laughed at the notion. Reaching for files he had on his desk he read off, "Boys like Connor Stacy, and Peter Parker."

"Prikosnis' k nim, i ya ub'yu tebya," Alina warned stepping towards Dreykov only to have a warning shot fired into her arm. She fell to her knees at the raw burning hole in her flesh. She didn't care, Alina still screamed at him, this time in English, "I swear I will kill you if you lay one hand on them!"

Dreyakov laughed at her once more correcting, "I will not kill him, you will." Alina's eyes filled with fear as he explained, "Like I said, I knew you would escape, and build yourself a life. Now, now after your chip has been reinstalled you will return to New York and kill them."

Shaking her head Alina refused, "No I won't, and you can't break me this time. Not if it means hurting either of them." Natasha was at her side applying pressure to her wound, but it didn't really matter. Not even know had that taken her healing away.

"Don't you see," he prodded kneeling in front of her, "This wasn't you escaping, it was your finale test before graduation. I want you to destroy everything you grew to love; only then will I know I have fully broken you. Then you will have the same celebration for your graduation that Natasha had. Don't worry, it's not that bad."

His words made tear stream from Alina's eyes as she brokenly said, "You're the devil."

Lifting her chin Dreykov said, "And you are the devil's favorite demon, so what does that say about you?" Looking between both her and Natasha, he asked them, "Is this your plan?"

"Our plan is to kill you," said Natasha before correcting herself, "Actually I was going to let her do it."

Dreykov threw his arms up saying, "I'm alive. So, what do we do now?"

Natasha, going along with him asked, "What was my mother's name?"

Dreykov hummed for a moment answering, "Where we buried her, there was a tree... Um... A pink blossom. Beautiful. And there was a tombstone with her name engraved on it. What was her name? Ah." The cruel old man chuckled finishing for er, "Unknown."

The ginger woman shook her head questioning, "You don't feel anything? You feel anything when I killed your daughter?"

"Is this your haunted past? Really," Dreykov questioned laughing at her before he said, "Thank you, Natasha. You gave me my greatest weapon. Say hello." They watched as the soldier clicked buttons underneath a panel in her arm, "When your bomb exploded, it nearly killed my Antonia. I had to put a chip in the back of her neck. In the back of her neck. Look at her. You find it difficult to look at her? I do. She... She watches everything and she can do it. She's a perfect mimic. And she fights just like all of your friends."

"Can she hear me," asked Natasha unable to look away from Antonia. 

Dreykov came back swiftly speaking directly in her face, "What? You want to make her feel better? You want to tell her you're sorry? Well, you should have thought of that before you blew her face off. But enough of all this bullshit." Speaking to his daughter he ordered, "Go to work. I have rats in the basement. Go. Go."

The second his child left, Natasha pulled out her gun, "Well, that was a mistake."

Alina stood to her feet as Dreykov questioned, "Was it?"

Natasha nodded confirming, "You just sent away the one thing that would stop me from killing you."

"Try, then. Do it," he said and try as she might, she couldn't.

Alina stepped behind her, her wrist still bound, "Natasha what are you waiting for do it!"

Dreykov calmly wondered, "Is the safety on?" Natasha strained but still nothing happened, she couldn't even stop him when he took her gun. Shooting it into the ceiling seeing it worked fine he said, "No seems fine."

Pointing at the blade in her belt he said, "No. Try your knife." Natasha did just that bringing her blade out trying to swing down on him, but her arm stopped mid motion.

Natasha gasped as she felt her hand force her to drop her own knife. "You're in trouble," sang Dreykov confidently.

Her voice terrified Alina questioned, "How are you controlling her?"

Dreykov shook his head explaining, "I'm not controlling her, Alina. Well, not yet. But there is a pheromonal lock. Smelling my pheromones prevents Natasha, or you from committing violence against me." Making his way to his chair he disappointedly said, "I'm very upset with Melina. It's a shame I have to kill her."