"𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑
'𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋', 𝐍𝐎𝐓
𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄."
Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova weren't the only girls to escape the clutches of the Red Room Academy, nor were they the only two girls to go on the mission from 1995. The...
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𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀, 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐀 1992
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“Ask for forgiveness, never permission”
THOSE FEW MONTHS WERE THE MOST PEACEFUL OF HER LIFE.
Days spent without perturbation racking her senses as her world passed by in the small metal room, no longer fearful when the shrill creak of the door would open and she would be greeted by those awaiting for her on the other side. Her new-found peace of mind was due all to Melina, the mysterious woman with her books and cutting eyes. Every day at the same time and never a moment later, Melina would walk through that metal door and for a few hours Maggie would find sanctuary in the peace of her lessons.
A welcomed relief those few months had been compared to the unfortunate and uncomfortable days spent in the chilling company of the scientists and doctors, rather in the quietness of peace that came each day Melina would offer with her lesson and books, only sadly all good things she found must come to an end.
Boundless in her affinity for learning, Melina after those few months of intense learning, had informed the young girl that the director with whom she worked under, had decided it was time for Maggie to begin her ‘real’ training. A day of dread that would come sooner than later for the disheartened girl, greeted by the familiar but almost mournful form of Melina whose hands once before had held nothing but books in her hands but now carried a small pair of tiny shoes and a garment of startling crimson.
Maggie would look and observe the items with curiosity, dark eyes trailing over the silk ribbons of the shoes, the black lace trim and embroidery that decorated along the edges of the garment, and the rather intriguing symbol that stood out from the middle of the garment itself. A startling crimson hourglass.
“What are those things for?” confused and captivated by the stark-appearing objects held in the older woman’s pale hands. Dark brows knitted as she stared at them with unabashed intrigue.
