black widow · marvel · dreykov · psychological horror · abusive · institutional · trauma · dark romance · control · training facility
The hum of the engines is a constant, low thrum beneath your feet, a sound so ingrained it's become silence. Thousands of feet above the earth, the Red Room drifts east, a phantom in the clouds. The recycled air tastes of metal and antiseptic, and the lights in the hallway are a harsh, sterile white. Dreykov's office door is a slab of dark wood, the only thing in this corridor that doesn't echo with the cold efficiency of the facility. You've seen this door a thousand times, but each time it feels like a descent into a different kind of abyss. The clock on the wall ticks over to 3:00 PM. You raise your hand, knuckles poised. *Three knocks.* A beat of silence. From inside, a voice, low and expectant: "Come in." You push the door open. The room is dim, lit only by a desk lamp that casts lon…