𝙻𝙰 𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙰 𝙳𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚁𝙽𝙾, 𝚅𝙰𝙻𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙸𝙰, 𝚂𝙿𝙰𝙸𝙽
𝙽𝙾𝚅𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝟷𝟿, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟹

𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝟏𝟏 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄. Even if she didn't remember it, it made it slightly easier with the past experience. The woman was sprawled across a cold metal table with bright lights shining down onto her. Her eyes were clenched closed, both out of pain and to shield them from the blaring lights.

"Sigue empujando." A dark haired officer commanded, his voice harsh and cold. There were three others of them all crowded around the metal table in the centre of the room dressed in black and red uniforms, alongside Señorita Millicent, who unlike the others was clad in a black blazer and matching pencil skirt. Keep pushing.

Asset 11 went to brush away the dirty blonde hairs that had stuck to her sweaty head, only to be held back by the leather cuffs around her wrists that chained her to the table. Her wails could be heard just outside the Doctor's office, though Millicent wasn't too worried about the outside world hearing. The sounds would have a hard time pushing past the barriers of titanium and concrete.

That didn't stop Asset 7, however, who was sat anxiously outside the office as he heard the woman's screaming. Of course, himself and the guards around him where the only ones who could hear it as everyone else was located a few feet above them. His leg bounced up and down as he bit at his fingernails.

"Detener!" Bellowed one of the guards surrounding him, smacking the butt of his gun against the man's leg to stop the shaking, "Soldado patética." Stop! Pathetic soldier.

The guards were never nice. They always held the same stone cold, emotionless expression on their face with their eyes trained forward, yet they could always see what was happening around them. Asset 7 didn't like them at all and the feeling was very much so mutual. In fact, he had lost count of how many beatings he had taken from them in the past week alone.

"¿Como es ella?" He mumbled, fiddling with his thumbs to stop him from bouncing his leg again, refusing to look over at the guards, "¿Ella está aquí ahora?" How is she? Is she here now?

"¡Cállate!" Shut up!

The same demand had been directed at Asset 11, who had been screaming relentlessly since the moment she entered the room. She wasn't sure what else they had expected from a woman in labour, they had seen many births before. The older guards had probably even seen her own, maybe even her mother's as well. Perhaps it was because she had been in that position before that they were getting annoyed, maybe they thought she should be used to it.

"Uno más." The Doctor spoke softely compared to the rest in the room, patiently waiting through her yelling for the child to be born. One more.

Asset 11 was tired, so tired that she nearly gave up. She probably would have if one of the Guards hadn't roughly tugged at her mousy blonde hair to keep her conscious, "No más. No más." No more. No more.

Señorita Millicent stepped closer to the table and grabbed onto Asset 11's hand, massaging it gently as she whispered to her in her thick french accent, "Mettez un terme à cela, oui?"  Put an end to that, yes?

She pressed her thumb harshly into her skin, listening to the bones beginning to crack under the pressure. The woman let out a whimper and Millicent let go, "Faible." Weak.

After what seemed to be over fifteen minutes to the woman, cries finally erupted throughout the room and bounced off the walls. Some of the guards visibly grimaced, a sour look taking over their already emotionless features but most had managed to hide it.

"Una abominación." A Guard hissed, scowling down at the baby. An abomination.

"¡Te arrepentirás de eso!" A weary Asset 11 barked, pulling at the restraints as she growled at him. Two of the guards placed behind her forcefully pushed down on her shoulders so she had no choice but to slump down against the table in defeat. You'll regret that!

The Guard stepped forward threateningly when Millicent pulled him back by the shoulder, "Maintenant, maintenant, Soldat. Cette fille sera le début d'un révolution." Now, now, Soldier. This girl will be the start of a revolution.

Asset 11 was too weak to fight, her sky blue eyes hardly open as she slipped in and out of consciousness.

"Amenez le père." Bring in the father.

The same guard who had angered the asset was sent outside with a nod, looking down the narrow corridor to find Asset 7 with two other guards at the far end of the dimly lit hall.

"Trae al padre. Solo el padre."  Was all he instructed before swiftly turning to reenter the office. Bring the father. Only the father.

Asset 7 was aggressively pulled to his feet by the guards behind him and shoved up the hall towards the room before two brown, leather handcuffs were attached to his wrists and feet, "Entra." Enter.

The man couldn't disguise his shaking, even with all the training he had been given. Without a second of thought, a hand rushed him into the room.

All eyes landed on him, parting to let him waddle over to the table where his daughter slept in her mother's arms. He cautiously glanced around the room, reading the facial expressions of his superiors. It was impossible, all their faces calm and relaxed without of wrinkle of worry in sight. Something wasn't right.

He approached the table, his cuffed hands reaching out to grab his child's hand.

A daughter. Alive and well.

Only two minutes of silence had passed when Señorita Millicent spoke up, her head facing the new family directly and her eyes narrowing at them as she commanded her guards, "Mátalos. La madre primero, luego el padre. La niña vive." Kill them. The mother first, then the father. The girl lives.

"¡No!" Screamed Asset 7, guarding the mother of his child with his body. He was yanked away from her almost immediately and the now screeching newborn baby girl was snatched from the mother's arms and passed back to Millicent.

Asset 7 felt the hands of 2 out of the 4 heartless men drag him back into the shadowed corner as the remaining two approached the new mother. One pushed his hands down onto her body to keep her laid still, not bothering to try and hide her screams. It would torment him more to hear them. He had decided. Let him suffer.

A cold metal was placed against her drenched forehead, making her breathing become uneven with panic. She wasn't scared of death itself, but rather the idea that her daughter's only real memory of her would be her death. Her blue eyes flickered over to Asset 7 as a plea. Her forbidden husband.

Millicent knelt down beside her, the newborn still secure in her arms, "C'est ce qui se passe lorsque vous ne respectez pas names régles." This is what happens when you don't play by my rules.

All Asset 11 could do was stare up at the woman. The fear made the adrenaline pump through her veins, her heart beat increasing rapidly by the second. For a moment, she was convinced it would explode. She wanted to run fast and escape, start a new life with her new husband and child on a deserted island for them alone, or tackle a gun from one of the guards and press it against Millicent's head, just like it was against hers.

"Un enfant qui vient de l'amour?" Millicent let out a hyena-like laugh as she scowled at Asset 11 in disgust, "Sais-tu ce que c'est? Une recette pour le désastre." A child born out of love? Do you know what that is? A recipe for disaster.

The bleach blonde woman lifted herself off the floor and moved to stand in front of Asset 7, who was now being held in a headlock by the guards to stop him from struggling, and stared at him with devilish eyes and a taunting smile, "Je suppose que c'est une bonne chose que nous soyons ici et prêts à nettoyer votre petit bordel. . . même si cela signifie que nous devons nous mettre la main un peu sale dans le processus." I guess it's a good thing that we're here and willing to clean up your little mess. . . even if it means we have to get our own hands a little dirty in the process.

"Eres un monstrou." Asset 11 snarled from behind the woman, her teeth gritted as her bottom lip quivered. You're a monster.

The older female didn't bother to turn and look at the girl, barely even seventeen, when she spoke and instead stared directly into Asset 7's eyes, "¡Hazlo!" Do it!

"¡No!" Asset 7's protests weren't acknowledged by the group surrounding him, pulling him back from running to his wife.

The young girl hadn't even had the time to do something as simple as flick her eyes over to her lover or their child when the gunshot rang throughout the room. There was a split second when she was halfway between life and death, barely grasping on. Her eyes fluttered furiously as her mind showed nothing but a flash of light. She wasn't sure whether it was the flash of the bullet in her brain or a heaven of some sort.

She wasn't religious at all. That was never something that La Casa de Invierno encouraged. Not that they needed too, for the girl had always known that she simply couldn't wrap her mind around the aspect. If there really is a God, where was he/she when I needed him/her the most? Why wasn't God stopping the bad people from winning by killing both her and her husband? Why wasn't God stopping Millicent from leading her baby into a doomed life of death and gore? She had thought.

Apart of her wanted to believe. The idea that the good people went to paradise and the bad went to rot in hell was rather comforting for her. Death had always unsettled her ever since her close encounter with it when she was 10. If she was to die, she wanted to go to heaven and spend all of eternity receiving all the love that had been absent her whole life. She wanted to meet her Mama and Papa, if they too were dead, of course.

She began to do what she had never done before; pray. She prayed that Millicent and her team of followers would go to hell and endure all the torture they had inflicted on others. She prayed that her husband would die, not only to keep her company during the journey into the unknown but for his own good. If they spared his life, it would hardly be mercy. And most of all, she prayed for the safety of her child. One day, she hoped that she would find a family that would look out for her, that she wouldn't lead a life like her own. A life of loneliness and sorrow hurt not only the heart but the soul as well, it snatched hope from little girls and boys and replaced it with a pit of never ending fear and guilt.

Asset 7's sapphire eyes were locked with her own of a similar shade, though she could not see him. Her mind blanked, the light fading out from her eyes as she sucked in her last breath. It was fresh, unlike the poisonous air she was forced to breath her entire seventeen years of life. A breath of fresh air she had only encountered once before; it was during a mission with her lover in Austria. They had been hunting down a target who hid inside his large, wooden cabin. Pearly white snow had covered both the ground and the cabin's roof. Neither of them had seen snow in person before then, but they loved the feel of it in their rough palms and its cooling feel. It was peaceful, far away from La Casa (even if they where monitoring their every move).

A cry left the man's throat as a guard closed her eyes for her. A cry of heartbreak and betrayal.

"¡Te mataré por eso! ¡La vengaré!" He screamed, his lungs gasping for air as a hand wrapped tightly around his throat. I'll kill you for that! I will avenge her!

A smirk was tattooed to Señorita Millicent's face, one corner of her red stained lips lifting upwards, "No si te matamos primero." Not if we kill you first.

Asset 7 gasped for air, his lungs beginning to feel the immense pressure as his throat closed in on itself. Bruises were sure to mark the skin of his near-dead body from the guards grip. The guard was enjoying his view, watching as the man kicked his feet when he was hovered above the ground and thrashed around for release. Suddenly, it stopped. The guard presumed he was dead at first, that he had finally cut off all airways and collapsed his lungs. But no, the man had simply given up. If he were to die, he was to do it without giving his torturers the satisfaction they desired. Not after nineteen years of doing exactly that.

The guard growled, the pupil's of his colourless eyes contracting as he tightened his grip. A whimper left the man, but Asset 7 was a fighter.

He kept his eye contact with the pitiless woman, struggling to get out his words as the guard continued to squeeze his throat tighter, "Podrerte en el infierno, perra." Rot in hell, bitch.

The last thing Asset 7 saw before he heard the crack of his own neck was the angelic face of his little girl. It pained him to know she would be abandoned in their cruel world, though he dreaded to think of all the things Millicent had lined up for her. Perhaps, it would have been more merciful to put her out of her misery before it could even begin and save her from the whirlwind of pain. She deserves a chance, he thought to himself, the chance to fight back.

His limp body was carelessly discarded onto the concrete floor just beside his wife's corpse, bruises beginning to show around his neck alongside the multiple other wounds that had been inflicted upon him.

As for the child, the girl would grow up to become Asset 18. A weapon of destruction that was possessed by La Casa. The girl's sole purpose was simple; to put an end to the life of Natalia Alianovna Romanova, the nine year old assassin belonging to the Red Room academy. A child so innocent to the world with her life mapped out for her from start to end. A life with nothing but death, blood and fear.

𝘈 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭.

✧˖࿐

𝐆𝐈𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒. 💎💧❄️
( 𝚃 𝙸 𝙽 𝙺 𝙴 𝚁 𝙱 𝙴 𝙸 𝙸 𝙴 )
i know very minimal french that i don't really remember from primary school and i know absolutely no russian but i can speak fairly good spanish but definitely not perfect so if you speak any of those languages and i get something wrong, please correct me. :)