Chapter Text
September 1989
What do people normally think when a young girl is five. Dress up? Dolls? I suppose that would be correct in 90% of cases, but for Anastasia, there was no dressing up, no dolls, no childhood.
While other girls Anastasia age would be at home, learning how to bake cookies with their mothers, Anastasia was learning how to load shot guns and rifles.
Sounds odd, doesn't it. What sick, twisted person teaches a five year old how to load guns?
His name is Dreykov, the overseer of The Red Room Academy, a Soviet-Russian facility used to create Black Widows, or in lamens terms, a group of female assassins and spies.
So, was Anastasia ever really alone? Despite being ripped away from her family? No, there were other widows, her age, older, younger. Dreykov started them as young as he could.
Anastasia joined the widow programme at the beginning of the year.
Dreykov noticed from a distance how well she did in early education, learning how to read and write quickly, having a keen interest in ballet and being good at it, noticing how strong she was physically and mentally at a young age.
She was perfect.
At first, Dreykov tried to bargain with her parents, but to his dismay, they refused to give her to him. So he took matters into his own hands.
Dreykov was used to this. The vast number of families he had torn apart, so taking Anastasia from her parents was just like any other day.
She was terrified at first, of course. But he knew she would never remember them, she was young, and she had so much training to go through.
"Again!", Ms Petrova spat at the group of girls, she circled them with a cane in her hand, smacking it onto the other.
The girls practised their ballet routine, the same one they've been practising for two months. They had practically mastered the routine, but they had to remain in sync at all times, which Ms Petrova had decided they're lacking at.
Drekov entered the room, watching the group. Ms. Petrova noticed his entrance and wandered over to him, still keeping her eye on the girls.
"They're doing well," he praised.
"Thankyou", Ms Petrova replied, tuck the cane under arm and crossing them.
"Which one shows the most promise?"He asked.
She took her eyes off the girls and looked at him, "I'm sorry?"
"Which one do you think will rise to any challenge, prove their worth?"he clarified.
She scanned the room, landing her eyes on one, "Anastasia."
"Ah yes, Ms Antonova", He nodded, "She seems to learn quick,"
"She hits every beat without fail. Some of the girls are starting to try and follow her. Some have succeeded, while some stumble." She crosses her arms.
"Which ones?" He looked stern.
Ms. Petrova panicked inside but remained calm. She lifted her hand and pointed at two girls.
Dreykov began walking towards the group. Once they noticed him approaching, they paused their dance.
He crouched down in front of the two girls Ms Petrova said were stumbling, "Ladies, please come with me, will you." He gave them a gentle smile.
They nodded, and each held onto his hands. He led them out of the room, and Ms Petrova held her breath. It was a job, but she always felt a slight feeling of guilt.
Anastasia gulped, her hazel eyes watching the girls leave. They had started at the same time as her. She knew she was never going to see them again. They weren't the first ones she'd seen get taken away and never return.
Ms. Petrova dismissed the class, needing a moment. The girls headed to their rooms.
Anastasia sat on her bed and hugged her legs.
"Where's Kira and Alina?", a red headed girl walked up to her.
Anastasia looked at her and just shook her head.
"Oh", The girl replied and looked down.
They stayed silent for a moment.
"I'm Natalia, by the way. But some people call me Nat", The girl spoke.
Anastasia gave her a small smile, "Anastasia."
-
Over the next few weeks, more girls were coming and going. Anastasia worried about when it would be her turn to leave, but so far, no one seemed to be paying her any attention. She couldn't tell if that was good or bad.
"Turn to page 5", Ms Volkova, her private tutor, instructed Anastasia.
She did as she was told, noticing the topic on the page.
"French?", she questioned.
"Precisely, it's important you begin to learn other languages." Ms Volkova moved towards the chalkboard. "Let's start with the basics and work from there,"
They spent the rest of the week going through the French language, Anastasia managed to grasp the language rather quickly.
"Ne bouge pas ou je te ferai du mal" ("Don't move or I'll hurt you") she spoke softly.
"With force," Ms Volkova spat.
"Ne bouge pas ou je te ferai du mal!" Anastasia spoke again with a slightly louder voice.
Ms. Volkova grew impatient, storming towards Anastasia. She leaned on Anastasias desk, gripping the sides.
Anastasia could see the anger in her eyes.
"You're not going to scare anyone with that high-pitched voice", she moved her hand and jabbed it into Anastasia's throat.
Anastasia choked slightly, holding onto her throat.
"Say it again, with force", Ms Volkova slammed her hand onto the desk.
"Ne bouge pas ou je te ferai du mal," Anastasia managed to speak out, with a slightly deeper voice.
Ms. Volkova knew she was only young, and eventually, she'd seem more intimidating, but this was enough. "Excellent", She said with a small smile.
March 1990
Dreykov gathered all the six year olds into the hall.
He looked amongst them, all sat on even rows of chairs, sat up straight with their hands on their knees.
"Your progress in the red room is admirable. You've made it this far," he began. "But don't think that means you're here to stay. We need to make sure you're the strongest you can be."
The girls remained with poker faces.
He grinned at their compliance, "Ladies, if you will, please stand and move your chairs to the side of the room, we're going to do a little exercise,"
The girls complied, all standing and moving their chairs to the sides. They gathered in a circle around Dreykov.
"I need to see who is the strongest, who can fight the hardest," he began.
The girls remained still, but they glanced at one another.
"Romanova, Ivanova," he called upon Natalia and Anya. They both stepped into the circle. "Use your training you've learnt from Master Vasiliev. Whoever survives gets to stay that way."
Both girls' eyes went wide, they had to fight, and the chance one would die frightened their young minds.
"Begin," Dreykov demanded, stepping out of the circle to spectate.
Natalia and Anya glanced looks, but knew they'd have to comply or matters would be worse. They stood opposite one another.
Anya lunged for Natalia in an instant, but Natalia was fast. She bolted out the way, turning to kick Anya in the back. Anya stumbled slightly but didn't fall. Anya was so sure she would have knocked over Natalia.
She turned, anger in her eyes. She threw a punch towards Natalia, and Natalia ducked, hitting Anya in the stomach.
Anya groaned, clutching onto her stomach.
"Finish her," Dreykov said.
Natalia eyes widened, she glared at Dreykov.
"Finish her," he repeated himself through gritted teeth.
Natalia took a deep breath, and tears filled her eyes. "I'm sorry."
While Anya still held onto her stomach, Natalia threw a punch, her fist collided with Anyas face, blood flew from Anyas nose and hit the mat, Anyas small body followed, hitting the floor.
Dreykov made his way back into the circle, Natalia looked up at him.
"Well done, Natalia, you passed", He gripped her shoulder. Then, he ushered her to leave the room.
Slowly but surely the rest of the girls fought eachother, body after body hit the mat, while one remained standing.
Eventually it was Anastasia's turn.
"Antonova, Lebedeva", Dreykov announced.
Anna Lebedeva was the scariest Widow Anastasia had ever come across, which is odd, given they're both six.
She was taller than Anastasia, and carried a bit more weight, but she was skilled, which was why Dreykov took an interest in her.
Anastasia gulped hard, she knew she wouldn't be making it out alive. She glanced down at the splatters of blood covering the matt, hoping hers wouldn't be joining it.
Anna furrowed her eyebrows and glared at Anastasia. Anastasia returned the same look, trying to seem just as intimidating.
"Begin", Dreykov demanded.
Anna was swift, she kicked forward, hitting Anastasia in the shoulder.
"Ah", Anastasia cried out, not expecting the hit to come so soon.
She balled up her fists, she had seen so many girls come and go, and she wasn't ready to be one of those girls. She lunged forward, quicker than Anna expected, pushing her over.
Anastasia, did a forward roll as they hit the matt, and quickly stood up. She turned and kicked Anna in the face before she had a chance to move.
Anna growled.
Standing up, Anna turned to face Anastasia.
Anna watched Anastasia run toward her, she went to swing but missed, as Anastasia slipped under between her legs, Anastasia quickly got to her feet and elbowed Anna in the back.
Anna cried out and fell to her knees.
"You know what to do", Dreykov called out.
Anastasia closed her eyes to hide the tears, taking a deep breathe.
She opened her eyes, crashing her elbow to Anna's back again, Anna's body flattened on the Mat.
"You win", Dreykov congratulated Anastasia.
Anna cried out, a painful cry. It echoed down the hall, and sent ringing into Anastasia's ears, Anastasia felt guilt course through her body.
Dreykov quickly ushered Anastasia out the room.
He knelt down near Anna's face.
She looked at him with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry"
"You failed", He spat in her face.