The Russian
Present day, 20 years after the war-The year 2041
"What the fuck do you mean he is gone?! He can't just disappear into thin air associate!" Natalya screamed at the new trainee.
The poor girl had a very visible tremor in her movements as she listened to the anger bestowed upon her by the donna who bore holes in the girls' head with her ocean filled eyes.
"I'm sorry donna, but he-" the poor girl started but was soon interrupted by venom laced words entering her auditory canal with so much force it almost ripped its way right through to the other side of her head.
"Did I say that you could speak to me! You are an associate! A trainee! You do not dare speak unless you are spoken to. Not just with me girl but with any member of this mob at a higher ranking than you! Which in fact is everyone!" Natalya never had mercy on trainees. She wanted them to leave their weaknesses and meaningless emotions behind along with their last names and lives they used to have. "Again!" She screamed.
The donna's slight Russian accent only seemed to make her more terrifying. The members of her elite mob were trained to perfection. If they did not meet the required standards, they were to stay only as associates and nothing more. The lowest ranking given, not for any degrading or shame of the ambitious new girls. But rather protection from the real job. If they did not require the deadly gifts and skills needed, they would not be used for any work that requires it. Fortunately, her harsh training prevented any of them to fail. She was the only donna that did not have anyone break, giving her girls a 100% success rate.
The poor girl still trembled on the floor and shifted back to her chosen position and stared through her scope of her gun. This gun was no ordinary gun, not many ordinary weapons exist anymore. Weapons were designed according to each women's specific talent they possessed. For this girl it was an energy absorbing sniper rifle. Her quick eyes found her target and the trainee froze in place. The target was quick, but he would not escape down the rabbit hole this time. If he did, the girl had a very slim chance of walking out of this alive. It was either her head or the artificial target made by the training grounds simulator.
Taking a breath in, the veins on the girl's body suddenly went a porcelain white. Each one moving under her skin like snakes finding their next prey, of which in her case is exactly what is happening. The markings pressed further up towards her chosen points of usage. The eye staring through the scope and the finger hovering over the trigger. The eye now completely void of colour making her seem sightless while the exact opposite is occurring. The energy absorbed for her right eye made her focus on the very top vertebrae at the back of the targets neck. His jugular vein jumping under is synthetic skin.
Her trigger finger, resembling a digit dipped in paint, came to rest and slightly dipped as she made her move. The shot fired echoed throughout the whole facility and each person that stood watching narrowed their eyes on the bullet, that to them only seemed to move in slow motion as their eyes easily adapt to the speed. A pure white energy bullet pierced through the air and struck its target, decapitating its victim instantly. The target falling to its knees and disappearing as it threatens to fall any further, taking any trace of a crime ever committed with it. Of course, it was an illusion but the simulation never shied away from being graphic and realistic. The bullet was absorbed by the oxygen around it and vanished without any evidence remaining. The once occupied space of the target was now empty and the room was quiet.
"See? You can do it! Don't let your emotions control you. You were scared and that made you lose focus. Well done! We see you tomorrow at initiation. Congratulation's trainee, you are graduating." Natalya said. Her expression more kind but still hard since she still had to be professional. Only the Flairs that are a part of the mob itself knew how normal everyone around here actually can be. Trainees and everyone outside the mob only saw ruthless, cold and dangerous killers.
The girl was shocked at the sudden change of tone in her now new donna's voice but was soon replaced by relief. The other trainees all already completed their final trial and only waited for the last girl to finish. All at once the girls ran to her and in unison cheered and hugged each other. This is what Natalya loved the most about her work. The girls train their whole lives for this moment and for them to achieve their dreams brings a small smile to her face. She let them have their moment for a few more seconds before she nodded towards a fellow head soldier next to her, interrupting them.
"Trainees!" All of them froze and stared at the soldier. "After tomorrow you are on your own. The lessons you have learned are not to be taken lightly. Mercy unfortunately in this environment can't exist. This might be the last few hours with the person standing next to you. This is a harsh world we live in and we have to make sure it does not crumble back down. Enjoy your celebrations while you still can. Tomorrow you are taken to your new group and your new life begins. Good luck girls and may we all see each other again."
The soldier moves her hand up towards her face and makes their known sign of admiration and good fortune to the new members standing before her. The move is simple, a closed fist with the pointer and middle finger stretched out. The palm facing the person or group it is intended for and placing it in front of either your left or right eye. The eye depends on which side you are strongest at, therefore depending if the person is left or right-handed. If the person is ambidextrous any eye can be chosen. If the palm faces the person who made the intended move it means to have no hope. An indication of closing one's own eyes, as if you have accepted death. It has only ever been used once before and since that day no one had the need or privilege to accept their fate.
The group of girls mirrored the soldier's move and dispersed into the night, excited to celebrate their last night of true freedom. The last girl however paused at the door heading towards her new life, her hand hesitating on the handle. Her eyes scan towards her hand where her tremor returned, making her brows furrow.
"You're choosing emotion again." Natalya spoke behind the girl.
The girl froze and her body went tense, not in fear but in shame. She feels that the donna only promoted her out of pity and did not want a failure amidst her mob. The young Flair turned around and faced her donna.
"You are not pitied you know. The tremor makes you stronger than anyone that performed here today." She said almost as if she could read the girls exact thoughts. "You don't have to control it; it controls itself whenever you choose to ignore it. Now go, you don't want to miss the party."
"Thank you, donna." The young Flair smiled up at Natalya and continued her journey towards the rest of the group.
The donna's smile soon disappeared from her features. She suddenly saw herself in the young girl that stood in front of her mere seconds ago. It was a rare occasion for Natalya to be sincere to anyone. She had a past that made her less human. The only ones that bring her back from completely leaving behind her humanity are her group. Mob members are divided into groups of six. It made missions easier and control over everyone more manageable since mobs today consists to over thousands of women. Natalya's group are seven since 2 of the girls are twins. Usually this would not mean any exceptions are made. Tons of siblings are split up and end up never seeing each other again. Others are luckier and get to spend their whole lives together. Groups are divided according to the gifts each Flair has. For example, a group cannot have two telepaths or two with super strength. The groups are divided equally to guarantee better survival for everyone.
All seven in her group are donnas of their own mobs, each representing a different country. They are also the Flairs with the deadliest of gifts. Since they each control a mob of their own, they travel a lot and their missions are much deadlier. Each member feared by everyone that knew them. Although, Natalya was feared the most. She wasn't known as Belladonna for nothing. Deadly Nightshade was an accurate description of the Russian. After the war her gifts along with her enhanced senses, speed and strength was the ability to melt anything with a poison so strong it eats and destroys anything it touches. The poison itself the colour of ink, a striking contrast with her diamond eyes that easily stare at you enough to see how your ancestors ceased to exist on this wretched planet they used to call Earth.
Her gift can be energised and used as bullets similar to the sniper rifle used by the last trainee. Her mere touch can melt skin and make you burn from the inside out. Her veins turn to charcoal and her hand changing along with it. Her power, the colour of death. From the exterior nothing seemed out of place when she first initiates her gift on her victims. It's the gut-wrenching scream of agony that leave their mouths and along with it their blood slowly traveling down them. Their tears of blood and their sudden expression of staring into the abyss.
A scream that seems to last forever but cut short to become the loudest silence possible. The silence of death. No more lungs and no longer a trace of a voice. The victims are not dead yet at this stage, the burning still making sure they are alive long enough for them to have realisation come across their features. They usually just stay on their knees staring into the sky. The crimson liquid seeping from their eyes and their agape mouths. With their bodies on auto drive, the movement starts in slow motion as their bodies fall backwards and they land on their backs. Their mouths open and their non-existing eyes staring ahead into the grim fate they have been presented with.
Natalya unfortunately learned the hard way what made her a Flair. She can still remember the crimson tear on her mother's face when her insides turned into wildfire and slowly melted her from within. She still remembers mimicking her mother's scream and with it her silence as she realises what she has done. That night Natalya took a random sharp object she found during that week of gloom all those twenty years ago and sliced at her skin. She did not want to bare the marks of darkness; she did not want to both shine like the crystal blue pools in her eyes and also drown in the death her veins provided for her.
Still today, her long jagged scars trail up her forearms. Too soon that day she also realised that her healing abilities made the concept of dying impossible for her. Instead, as she healed and laid crying in her blood she found herself throwing her palm on her face, shielding her eye from the sun that suddenly appeared a week after it disappeared into the smoke of war. Her two fingers protected her new sharp and intense vision but even with the beauty of new gifts bestowed upon her, she wished her poison could take her life as well. She wanted to accept death as a gift, reaching for it with open arms.
Natalya fell asleep in that same position, exhaustion consuming her. That's how she was found by her rescuers. On her back, laying in her own pool of blood, her scars painted on her skin and her simple attempt of her two fingers to shield the sun away.