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Câu chuyện MidReal
Black Widow: Red Room Assassin
Bối cảnh:You are General Dreykov’s daughter from Black Widow.
Tạo phiên bản của tôi cho câu chuyện này
Elena Dreykov
General Dreykov's daughter, seeking redemption, tall with sharp features, resilient and cunning.
Alexei Shostakov
former Red Guardian and Elena's ally, friend to Elena, burly with a charismatic smile, loyal and humorous.
Natasha Romanoff
former Black Widow and Elena's mentor, ally to Elena and Alexei, athletic build with striking red hair, strategic and fierce.
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
I was nine years old the first time I killed a man.
I wake up in my old cell, the cold metal walls closing in around me.
He was my target, and I was his weakness.
The air is damp and smells of rust.
My father’s words echoed in my mind as I pulled the trigger.
The bullet pierced his heart, and he fell to the ground, dead before he hit the floor.
My head throbs, and I can barely remember how I got here.
Footsteps echo outside the cell, growing louder with each passing second.
I felt nothing as I watched the life drain from his eyes.
Then, I hear Dreykov's voice, dripping with malice.
It had been drilled into me since birth that emotions were a weakness, a liability that could get you killed.
And so, I buried them deep inside, where they could never be used against me.
"Did you really think you could escape me, Elena?" he taunts from the other side of the door.
That was the first of many kills for me, but it would be years before I understood the true cost of taking a life.
My heart races as I scan the room for anything useful.
The cell is bare except for a small cot and a metal toilet.
Years before I realized that some things can never be undone.
I spot a loose bolt on the cot's frame and quickly work it free, gripping it tightly in my hand.
My father is General Dreykov, the head of the Red Room—the most feared and powerful organization in all of Russia.
The door creaks open, and Dreykov enters with a smirk plastered on his face.
Now, here I am, standing in the shadows of a dimly lit warehouse, my heart pounding like a war drum.
He steps closer, his eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction.
"You're back where you belong," he sneers.
The small flash drive in my hand feels heavier than it should, loaded with crucial information about the Red Room's operations.
I don't wait for him to get any closer.
Alexei Shostakov, the Red Guardian, stands by the entrance, his muscles tense and ready for action.
I lunge at him, aiming for his throat with the bolt.
Natasha Romanoff is hunched over a laptop, her fingers flying over the keyboard with practiced ease.
He stumbles back, caught off guard by my sudden attack.
"Almost there," Natasha mutters, her eyes never leaving the screen.
I nod, even though she can't see me.
The air is thick with anticipation, every second stretching into an eternity.
"You little—" he starts, but I don't let him finish.
Suddenly, alarms blare, shattering the tense silence.
I knock him off balance and grab his keycard from his belt.
"We've been compromised," Natasha hisses, slamming the laptop shut.
Without wasting a second, I bolt out of the cell and into the corridor beyond.
The door bursts open with a deafening crash, and armed guards flood into the room like a dark tide.
Alarms blare as I sprint through the familiar hallways of the Red Room facility.
Red lights flash overhead, casting eerie shadows on the walls.
I know these corridors like the back of my hand; every twist and turn is etched into my memory.
My eyes meet Alexei's across the room.
We nod in silent agreement.
I reach a control room and slam the door shut behind me.
No words are needed; we've trained for this moment our entire lives.
The room is filled with monitors and control panels, all buzzing with activity.
I dive behind a stack of crates as bullets whiz past me, splintering wood and sending shards flying through the air.
I quickly disable the security systems, hoping to buy myself some time.
Alexei charges forward with a roar, his massive frame plowing through the first wave of guards like a battering ram.
On one of the monitors, I see Alexei and Natasha fighting their way through another part of the facility.
They're relentless, taking down guards with brutal efficiency.
Natasha is a blur of motion beside me, her movements precise and deadly as she takes down guard after guard with ruthless efficiency.
But more keep coming.
"Come on," I mutter to myself as I work to open the main gate.
It's like fighting against an endless sea of bodies.
Finally, the gate opens with a loud clank, and I know it's time to reunite with my allies.
I grit my teeth and focus on the task at hand.
Every shot I take is calculated, every move deliberate.
I burst out of the control room and make my way towards them.
Yet, despite our best efforts, we're being overwhelmed.
As I round a corner, I come face-to-face with another guard.
A guard lunges at me from the side.
He raises his weapon, but I'm faster.
I duck under his arm and deliver a swift kick to his knee, sending him crashing to the ground.
I twist away just in time, driving my elbow into his throat and sending him crashing to the ground.
"Elena!" Natasha's voice calls out from ahead.
I see her and Alexei fighting off a group of guards near the main gate.
But there's no time to celebrate; another guard is already upon me.
I spin around and fire my gun point-blank into his chest.
I rush to join them, taking down another guard who tries to block my path.
"We need to get out of here!" Alexei shouts over the chaos.
He drops like a stone.
"Elena!" Natasha's voice cuts through the chaos.
Together, we push forward, our movements synchronized from years of training together.
"Fall back!"
We reach the main gate just as more guards flood into the corridor behind us.
Natasha slams her fist into the control panel beside the gate, causing it to slide open just enough for us to slip through.
I glance over my shoulder and see her retreating towards the exit, Alexei covering her with a hail of bullets.
We need to get out of here before we're completely surrounded.
"Go!" she yells.
We sprint through the opening and into the night air beyond.
I turn to follow them when a familiar voice echoes through the room, stopping me dead in my tracks.
"Well, well," General Dreykov steps into view, flanked by more guards. "Isn't this a touching family reunion?"
The alarms are still blaring behind us as we run across the open yard towards freedom.
But then a shot rings out.
My blood runs cold at the sight of him.
His eyes lock onto mine, and for a moment, everything else fades away.
"Father," I whisper, my voice barely audible above the din of battle.
Dreykov strides forward, a sinister smile spreading across his face.
My body trembles, my mind racing with possible escape routes.
His guards close in, disarming Alexei and Natasha with brutal efficiency.
Dreykov grabs my arm, pulling me close.
"You disappoint me," he hisses, his breath hot against my ear.
My eyes dart to Alexei and Natasha, both restrained and struggling against their captors.
Dreykov signals his men with a flick of his wrist, and they force me into a waiting vehicle.
The door slams shut with a finality that sends a chill down my spine.
I lock eyes with Natasha through the window; she gives me a subtle nod, a silent promise of rescue.
The vehicle speeds away, leaving Alexei and Natasha behind in the chaos.
Inside the car, the air is thick with tension.
My fear begins to morph into resolve.
I know I must escape the Red Room again.
The guard sitting next to me keeps a watchful eye, but I can see the slight droop in his eyelids—he's tired.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself for what comes next.
The vehicle swerves through narrow streets, the city lights blurring past the windows.
I shift slightly in my seat, testing the strength of the restraints on my wrists.
They're tight but not unbreakable.
"Where are you taking me?" I ask, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.
The guard grunts but doesn't respond.
His silence only fuels my determination.
We hit a bump in the road, and I use the jolt to slip one hand free from the restraint.
I keep my movements slow and deliberate, not wanting to alert the guard.
He glances at me suspiciously but then returns his gaze to the road ahead.
I wait for another bump, another distraction.
When it comes, I act swiftly.
My free hand darts out, grabbing the guard's gun from its holster.
Before he can react, I press it against his temple.
"Stop the car," I command, my voice cold and unwavering.
The driver glances back in shock but complies, pulling over to the side of the road.
"Now," I say to the guard beside me, "you're going to let me out."
He hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly.
As soon as the door opens, I leap out of the vehicle and sprint into the darkness of an alleyway.
Behind me, I hear shouts and footsteps—Dreykov's men are already giving chase.
I dart through narrow passages and over fences, my heart pounding in my chest.
I can't afford to get caught again.
Not now.
Up ahead, I see an old warehouse with a broken window just within reach.
I scramble up a stack of crates and dive through the opening, landing hard on the concrete floor inside.
For a moment, I lie there catching my breath.
But there's no time to rest.
I push myself up and scan my surroundings.
The warehouse is filled with rusted machinery and stacks of wooden pallets.
It's dark and musty, but it offers plenty of hiding spots.
I hear footsteps approaching outside.
They're getting closer.
I duck behind a large piece of machinery just as Dreykov's men burst into the warehouse.
"Spread out!" one of them orders. "She can't have gone far."
I hold my breath as they fan out, searching every corner of the building.
One wrong move could give away my position.
I need to find a way out before they close in on me completely.
As they move further into the warehouse, I spot an exit door on the opposite side of the room.
It's now or never.
I make a dash for it, weaving between stacks of pallets and rusted equipment.
Just as I reach for the door handle, a hand grabs my shoulder from behind.
