❛ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 ❜

❝ i think i am better
a ghost, than i am
a human being. ❞

QUEENS, 1936

ANASTASIA let out an angered scream, hurling a vase over her head. They all watched it flip in the air as if going in slow motion. When it crashed, the fragments scattered like mice; sliding into various corners of the room and tucking under furniture.

Both of her parents direct a disgusted look, with her father promptly filling with ire.

Anastasia stood with her chest puffed and chin held high, "You're deranged! That's what you are! You can't expect me to do something like this! I'm only seventeen!"

"Yes we can, and you will, Anastasia!" Her father nearly yelled with his thick German accent. "We moved to Queens to give you a new start!"

She sputtered at them, bewildered. "A-A new start? You must be joking!"

Her mother gave a stern, yet thoughtful look upon her daughter. "Ana, sweetie," Anastasia nearly snarled at her. "We only want what is best for you. If you think about it, they'll protect us, and we'll win."

"No, you won't!" Her own American accent thundered over theirs. "You're walking into a death trap."

Anastasia's native accent was dying out; slowly being replaced by an American one. Her parents thought it was 'payback' or 'revenge' towards them.

"You will join this organization!" Her father brazenly yelled, bounding toward her in three strides before shoving his face into hers. "You will join Hydra with us at once!"

Anastasia looked up at him, puffing out her chest. Her eyes narrowed daringly. "I would rather die."

She swore she saw his face get red in seconds.

Grabbing her arm tightly, he shoved her forward. Anastasia winced as she fell onto the stairs that led to the upper floor. Twisting back, she couldn't get a word out before her father started shouting again; "Get out of my house!"

Her mother gently grabbed his arm before being swatted away harshly by him. "Oh, Anton—"

"No, Valentina! I won't have this disgrace of a child disobey me in my own house! Out with you! I want you out of this house now!"

Without anything else than a snarl, he stormed off to his own room. When the door slammed, both women winced. Anastasia only realized now that she had shed a few tears, wiping her fingers under her eyes to see blackened water from her mascara.

Slowly lifting her gaze to her mother, she felt betrayed when she couldn't bear more than a saddened expression. Her mother quickly left to her shared room, checking in on her husband.

Anastasia gave her own stubborn huff, standing to her feet, hiking up her dress with both fists and stomping her way up the stairs.

The main suitcase she travelled with was stored under her bed. It was a leather briefcase style that was coloured an off-blue. It was gifted to her by her grandparents two Christmas' ago. Anastasia flung it on the bed and flipped it open.

In less than ten minutes, she had shoved every dress, pants, shirts and shoe she could into the bottom. On the top half, she stored her hairbrush, a few clips, pins and ties, along with her daily makeup and skincare products.

After she was set, she stomped back down the stairs and set it by the door. With her parents arguing in their bedroom, Ana slipped into the kitchen, grabbing a few items to take on the road. Anastasia noticed her father's wallet on the countertop, quickly deciding to swipe it.

After she was ready, she shoved on her heeled loafers before opening the front door and leaning back. "You know what?! I'm gonna join the American army to prove to you that you'll lose! I'd die first before I join Hydra!"

She listened, noticing the yelling on their end had ceased. After a few short seconds, the door opened, banging loudly on a wall.

Her father's voice roared out, "ANASTASIA—"

Anastasia grabbed her suitcase, fleeing outside and shutting the door behind her. She jogged down the driveway as best as she could, making sure only to slow down when she made it a few streets over.

She panted, looking over her shoulder a few times with a satisfied smile. "I'll show them. I'll show them all."

It was a long walk, but eventually, she found her way to a general store. She roamed around it for a short while before approaching the cashier working. "Excuse me? What are the surrounding places of Queens?"

The young boy hummed before scratching his head. "Well, miss, I think there's Brooklyn...uh, Manhattan?"

She nodded to herself with confidence. "Brooklyn it is, then."

SOVIET UNION, 1945

"NOW...I'm going to ask you this one last time, Mrs. Barnes,"

The said woman huffed in annoyance but remained silent. She loathed the thick Russian accent that spoke to her. The burly man of whom she had forgotten his name paced around her in a slow and relaxed manner. After doing a full circle, he bent down beside her head.

"Where is Sergeant Barnes?"

Her dark eyes glanced down at the dirty tank in front of her. It was filled with water; ice-cold water more specifically. Anastasia's body was forced in a kneeling position with some man holding her wrists in an uncomfortable way.

"I already told you, he died last year," She hissed behind clenched teeth. The comment made her heart physically ache.

Anastasia had repeated the sentence so many times it was starting to etch into her brain. It only angered her further that the other men surrounding her didn't like that answer. Of course, she wouldn't give the soldier's position; she couldn't anyway. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

She noticed the change in the man's wrinkled face. It dropped in disappointment, with a sigh shortly following. Lowering his head so the single source of light didn't catch it, he rose to his feet and walked from her line of sight.

"It saddens me that we have to come to this, but I will get an answer from you sooner or later, rokovaya zhenshchina."

Before she could question what he had said, another hand grabbed a chunk of her hair and forced her head into the tank. Eyes widening drastically, she let out a scream as the coldness shot through her like a bullet. Writhing against her bonds, Ana's face swayed back and forth in an attempt to gain back oxygen.

Just when she started to choke on the water, she was pulled back up with a yank of her hair. She screamed again as the man now stood in front of her, fire in his eyes.

Anastasia looked up at him, mascara running down her cheeks. "I fucking told you! I don't know where Bucky is!"

He only tsked at her teasingly, not taking her threat seriously. "Such sharp words from a beautiful lady. Very un-ladylike" Her glare only darkened as the surrounding group shared a pitiful laugh. After a moment, he bent down once more with a smirk. "Why put up all this fuss?"

"Go to hell," She hissed back with as much venom she could muster. Gathering the remaining salvia and water in her mouth, she spat it at his face, satisfied when his head twitched back.

He wiped the liquid from his cheek with two fingers. He stood and moved away. "I like her ardour. We could use someone like you with the upcoming asset."

A chill ran down her spine. Use her? Anastasia sighed out in exhaustion, allowing her head to drop. "I'd rather die."

The man stopped, turning on one heel slowly. After a moment of silence, he started to laugh. He waved a finger at her, looking between the other men. "I must say, I really like this one. Good fighting spirit."

After his chuckles died down, he watched Anastasia lift her head again to glare at him.

"Let's see if we can break it."