Chapter 11
Each time Yelena died, it was always different despite how it always started the same.
She’d wake up in that same small grey room, her body much smaller than it should be. She’d leave the room and head down the hall and go into the room at the end.
At least, that’s what she did the first three times. Each time it was a different fond memory of her and her sister, and each time Khonshu would direct her out when her body was safe and mostly healed. The fourth time, she was nearly seventeen.
This time Yelena was far too curious and turned the other way instead. As she walks down the hallway, she starts to notice the wallpaper darken and the floor rot away. She has the urge to turn around and sprint to the door at the very end but she forces herself to move on.
The door at the end of this very long hall is made of metal with a small window in it that reminded Yelena of the door that locked the girls in at night. Yelena reaches up and grasped the door handle before struggling to turn it.
It opens much easier than the other door did. Yelena peers inside but all she can see is darkness. She frowns, glancing back to look at the other door at the very far end of the hallway before what feels like a hand grabs the back of her shirt and yanks her through the doorway.
She lands on something hard, it felt like concrete, and it was pitch black. Yelena hated the dark because she could never see what was lurking there. In the far distance, she could just make out a cracked door, light spilling into the dark room and creating a patch of white onto the dark concrete.
Yelena turns back and tries to open the door from where she came but it’s locked from the other side and she can’t get it open.
So Yelena climbs to her feet and starts to make her way to the door. She wraps her arms around herself in the cold dark room as her bare feet hit the cool concrete with each step she took. She finds herself idly wishing for her blankie, something she hadn’t seen since she was five before Alexei took it away from her. Blankie had protected her, gone with her everywhere, and was a shield from the outside world when Yelena needed it.
Yelena hears something scurry behind her, sending a jolt of fear through her tiny frame. She tries to pick up the pace, her eyes focused on the door in front of her. She swears that she hears General Dreykov croon at her that awful nickname he had given her.
She reaches the door, bursting through it and slamming it closed behind her. Her heart is hammering in her chest and Yelena gasps for air to try and calm herself down. She shouldn’t be so scared, she can usually control her emotions better than this.
But the sight that greets her is no less daunting. She’s staring at two rows of beds, each with a girl donned in matching grey pajamas with their left arm raised and handcuffed to the bed. Yelena knows the exact spot where she had laid and belated realized that out of these dozens of girls laying in rows, only a handful survived.
A guard is moving down the row, stopping at each girl to frisk her for contraband. Yelena’s breath hitched and she tenses up in fear in hopes that he can’t see her just like the other memories. That doesn’t stop the noise of pained whines from the girls as the guard takes delight in poking their bruises and open wounds just to hear them cry. Yelena clasped her hands over her ears, feeling very much like the child that her body was at the moment, trying to drown out the noise.
She wants Khonshu to hurry up. She can’t stand this. She needs out.
Yelena stumbles forward down the rows, trying to find the exit. She can’t help but stop in front of the bed that had been hers, staring at herself peer up at the ceiling with a glazed expression in her eyes having already been frisked by the guard.
A hand grabs her shoulder and Yelena immediately lashes out, spinning around and trying to squirm out of the grip that was on her arm.
“Woah--” The figure with grey skin spoke and Yelena goes still at the feminine voice. “It’s alright, little one. I’m not going to hurt you.” The hand disappears and Yelena is left looking up at a woman with the head of a hippo. The woman cranes her head to take in the sight of the room, a frown marring her face at the scene. “This is a terrible sight and I’m so sorry that this happened to you, little one.”
Yelena forgets how her voice works. The woman, at least Yelena is pretty sure it’s a woman, towers over her tiny frame. The woman, as if sensing her anxiousness, crouches down to get onto her level.
“My name is Tawaret. I am the god of women and children,” She sends what Yelena supposes is a friendly smile her way. She holds out her hand for Yelena to shake but drops it when the girl doesn’t take it. “I’m here to guide you.”
“My name is Yelena Belova,” Yelena’s voice comes out shakier than she means for it to. “I am the avatar of Khonshu.”
Recognition flickers across Tawaret’s face before an easier grin settles on her face. “Ah! You’re his newest one…” The smile wanes. “You’re… a little bit little.” She comments slowly.
“I’m sixteen,” Yelena replies, confused on why the god was here in the first place. “I think…” She tacks on because she didn’t really know her birthday. “Why are you here?” She can’t help but blurt out, slapping a hand over her mouth in horror at the lack of filter that her six-year-old self had.
Tawaret merely chuckles, gently reaching out to pull Yelena’s hand from her mouth. “I came because you were distressed.” She then peers around her. “I assume you usually pick a happy afterlife. You picked this one this time. Anubis assumed that you had gotten lost and since you are a child, sent me to come to pick you up!”
“I’m not a child,” Yelena retorts, thinking to all the times that Khonshu would remind her of her age. “I’m sixteen.”
“Not here you’re not!” Tawaret chirps before she rises to her full stature and offers out her hand. “Let’s get out of these nasty memories, hmm?”
The White Widow from the Red Room would have never taken a stranger’s hand. She would have killed them before they could even touch her. Yet, here in the body of her six-year-old self, she can’t help but warily take the hand. Tawaret’s hand engulfs hers entirely but the woman doesn’t seem to mind as she hums a merry tune and starts to guide Yelena toward the door that Yelena had originally been heading toward.
Yelena is taken back to the memory of when she first learned how to whistle and simply stands there with Tawaret until Khonshu opens a door for her to come back. Tawaret lets go of her hand and gives her a bright grin and a wave as she calls out goodbye when Yelena approaches the door.
Yelena’s back in her safe house, staring up at that damned popcorn ceiling as she sits up. She pulls the mask of her suit off as her eyes case the room until they land on Khonshu in the corner who had been watching over and protecting her body.
“You were frightened,” Khonshu comments in a quiet rumble, staring at the wall ahead of him as his fingers tap against the staff in his grip. “You were fighting me for control.”
“I met Tawaret…” Yelena croaks out, wincing at her sore throat as she recognizes the feeling of being choked.
Khonshu glances at her before inclining his head. “I see…” He lets out a hum. Yelena can’t help but stiffen as he crosses the room, reaching out to set a hand onto her chest and make her lay back down. “Sleep.” He commands in a deep rumble.
Yelena closed her eyes, her body absolutely exhausted, but she can’t help as one thought lingers on her mind.
This other side of the afterlife, whatever hell it conjured up, didn’t have Natasha in them.
Yelena felt lonely.