Music: Breathe Me by Sia (Nightcore)

Picture: Young Jeremy Renner from Pinterest

All rights go to their rightful owners.

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ONE

Some people say that knowledge is power. Other would argue that an army beats knowledge any day. When you're a eighteen year old Russian orphan, living on the streets, begging for food and money, you learn that the art of being invisible is true power. You learn that being unseen is the perfect way to get around people's expectations. You learn to disappear and become part of the shadows.

Of course, being "gifted" isn't exactly an invisible trait. Especially when your powers cause havok to the satellite feeds around you, when the screaming of people can be quieted with a flick of an imaginary switch in my head, when the sound waves around me can be altered with a gentle touch of my fingers. Loads of people would pay lots of money for that kind of power.

Joining H.Y.D.R.A. wasn't my idea. I was forced, to put it truthfully. It went something like this: you work for us, and in return we will give you food and shelter. If you refuse, we will hand you over to the Soviets, who hate anyone who is different. They would have killed me on the spot.

My choice was made for me.

"Dariya Romanova, report to Dr. Zola's office immediately."

My hands are shaking as I tread towards the dark corridor. Every time Zola wants to see me, he always has some horrible, unspeakable act for me to carry out. I can't argue, I can't disagree. I merely have to listen, obey, and shut the hell up. Or I'm a dead woman.

The H.Y.D.R.A. guard steps aside from the door to Zola's office, allowing me to enter. He turns to me and winks. "You and I will have some fun after your mission, bitch," he says to me in Russian. "Just like last time."

I shiver and cross my arms. Not only have they taken away my rights as a free citizen, but they've taken away my rights as a human being. I'm entertainment for the bastards here. Zola lets them do what they please, and what they please usually involves sex and violence. I'm surprised I've made it thus far not pregnant and alive.

I open the door and step into the office. It's large and dark, much like the Red Skull's office was. I've seen pictures. Dr. Zola Jr. sits at his desk, partially enveloped in shadow. He looks exactly like his father, Arnmin Zola Sr. And he's even worse than him. He's much more cruel, much more evil, and much less cowardly.

"Step closer, my dear," he whispers in a smooth voice. "I have a request for you."

Request? Ha! More like order.

"Yes?" I answer, politely.

"Only speak when spoken to!" Zola shouts.

I flinch at his loudness and shrink back, nodding my head.

"Now, I need you to do a favor for me, dear. I need you to help... eradicate the pest that S.H.I.E.L.D. has become. There is a base," he points to the map behind him, towards upper Russia, "here. We've known about it for some time, but recently, they have become progressively more aggressive towards our projects. I need you to join a H.Y.R.D.A. team and take out their communications and their calls for help using your gifts."

More like a curse. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for this stupid power.

"Use your ability to disable sound waves to keep them from calling in reinforcements, and then I want you to create a sound so high pitched, that it kills anyone in the area."

"But, Sir-!"

"No talking, bitch!" he shouts again, and reaches across the table and slaps me. Hard. "You do as I say. You take them out! Understood?"

I whimper and hold my hand to my aching face. I nod once, dreading the horror I'm about to inflict on those poor, innocent people.

"And you will look like you're enjoying yourself," he says, sitting back down in his chair. "That is all. You leave tomorrow at dawn. Dismissed." He waves his hand at me, looking down at his papers.

I nod and turn around to leave. Once I'm through the doors, the same H.Y.D.R.A. guard starts to follow me back towards my quarters.

"Leave me alone," I say, walking faster.

"I'm escorting you."

Liars. They're all liars.

I break into a run, dashing for my door. It doesn't have a lock, but once I'm inside, I push the heavy furniture in front of it, keeping the guard outside. I can hear him shouting horrible things at me through the metal. I still hear his hands beating the door. Thank God it doesn't budge, or who knows what he would do to me.

I curl up in the corner furthest away from the knocking and screaming. I open my true eyes, my eyes for my power, and begin to see strands of light coming from the door. They're bright red, and come in short spurts, waves of sound. I raise my hand and then lower it, cutting off the sound from him to me. I can now hear nothing. The silence is welcoming.

The rest of that night is spent, curled up by bed, my knees to my chest. Crying is all I can do to cope. Cry, cry some more, and shake. Uncontrollably shake.

Calm down, calm down, calm down!

This is what it's come to. Dariya Romanova is sentenced to a life of imprisonment and a life of hurting other people.

Killing.

Torture.

Slaughter.

Death would be kinder.

END

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Hey guys!

So, this is a story I've been wanting to write for a while. It's a Clint Barton fanfiction, set in the early 00s, before Cap, Thor, the Avengers, Iron Man, and Hulk. Natasha Romanoff has been working for S.H.I.E.L.D. for less than a year, and Clint has been assigned to kill Dariya Romanova, Natasha's 18 year old half-sister on her father's side.

Since most of the Avengers won't be in this story, I'll have time to write some of my best loved characters, like younger Phil Coulson, Maria Hill, Nick Fury, and others.

And don't worry! I'm not abandoning "Age of Glory". Simply starting a new project :)

What do you think?

Love and Light,
~Save_Pietro_Maximoff