Darkness, all I see is it: The same dream. Beaten. Broken. Repair. Reinvent. It's bullshit. I can't breathe, darkness. It feeds on me, darkness, I struggle to get free. It tears me down, darkness... Darkness is my friend, my enemy, my savior. I'm consumed by the darkness.
I hear the door open, interrupting my thoughts. "Remove her blindfold," I hear an older gentleman say. Some shuffling follows before I can finally see, my hands tied to the back of this cold chair. I realize where I am. Hell. "Ah, how are you today, Ms. Belova?" The older man sarcastically asked me. Just peachy. I answer back sarcastically, trying to get my bearings on this small cold damp room. Back for more snarky comments from yours truly? I smile blankly. He accommodates my shitty humor by slamming my head into the table. "I don't have time for your jokes today, Ms. Belova. Besides, I'm actually here to hear you ramble," my smile has faded away by this point and I look confused. What do you mean by that? I ask plainly. He sets out a classified file that has the last name I dread. Romanoff, N. He then opened the file and moved a photo of her in front of me. "You know who she is, your enemy, the one person who has caused you so much pain," He says coldly, as if I'm supposed to feel threaten. Why are you showing me this, I ask angrily. "We wanna know the whole story, Ms. Belova," He said sternly. Well, let me begin then.
May 31, 2577
New Angeles, Orb Union
The first time I saw her, there was something special about the Black Widow that I wanted to have that power. Lucky for me, the vial I found months earlier was of her blood, which I reluctantly injected into myself. I felt stronger, faster, better. Someone who could outmatch the Widow herself. While I spent time on that shitty Orb planet, I became a deadly assassin. I went so far as to calling myself the Black Widow.
I remember that May night, when it finally happened.
I was buying fruit, some kind of raspberry, before making my way to the local bar they had. I walked in and sat down, just looking around. I heard some people chanting outside a few minutes later, so I got up. What I saw next blew me away. Two men, probably aged 30 or so, were fighting Romanoff, obviously losing the fight to the Enhanced super soldier. I hung back until the fighting was done, and she left without a trace... or so she thought
I managed to follow her through alleyways while she transversed on the rooftops. She was sitting on a ledge, just overlooking the entire metropolitan area. I snuck up behind her, You're her, you're the Widow. She was startled and jumped up, ready to fight. Who are you, and why are you...? Her voice sounded coarse, but shocked, seeing that I was wearing a similar cat suit to hers and that my gauntlets were identical to her Widow's Bite. I'm your replacement, I pulled out a gun and aimed it at her, time to die, sestra.
She managed to strike my arm and caused me to drop the gun off the roof, but I kicked her stomach in and beat her down onto the ground, in which she grabbed my leg and brought me down to her, where she jumped on me and beat in my face, before shocking her off me with my gauntlets. We both regained composure and stared down each other. I could see a fire burning in those green eyes of hers. Yes, let your hate grow inside, let it consume you and spit out the good in you. She charged me, nailing punches in quick succession. While I was taking much of the blows, she nailed a hit at my chest that made me hit the wall hard. Struggling to get up, I spouted more shit at her, intending to make her angry. She, however, ran before I could fully recover.
That's why to this day, I hate her. That team of hers, the Invaders or whatever those clowns call themselves. "Ms. Belova, we've heard enough but we still require a story from you, YOUR story," the interrogater told me
Then why are we wasting time?