A Starter for @captive-commando for a baby who is gonna cut a bitch.
It was 6 pm when the Red Room handlers met with the Hydra agents in the discontinued subway station. The old lines made for decent cover, at least for a quick transaction. The small product secured and kept in a large wooden crate with metal lock. A weapon, they’d called it. Magdalina understood that much as they spoke, mostly in English, a language she didn’t speak with any reasonable capacity. She hadn’t gotten far enough in the program to be schooled in foreign languages. But locked in a crate, being talked about in words she wasn’t meant to understand put the girl on edge, pushing her already violent temper against her fight of flight instinct. She’d kill given the chance. She watch the door of her prison for a moment in which she could strike, have nicked a knife during the chaos of attempting to contain her to begin with.
She waited as voice raised and a struggle followed. She waited as shots were fired, one of which slicing through the crate only inches above where she crouched. Death wasn’t meant for her yet, and even if the concept of death was a bit lost on the 11 year old, she knew that in her bones. When her crate finally opened, she sprung from it, face dirty, hair wild, someone else blood staining her clothes. She rolled between her savior’s legs, and stood, holding her knife in her too small hands. She was petite, and small and angry.
“You kill?” she asked, her accent thick but at least yes or no would be a simple enough answer. something the small blonde might understand.
