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« on: June 09, 2010, 05:42:07 PM »
So, this is a little snippet of one of the chapters of the fic I’m working on as promised. Not sure if all the tiny details are absolutely perfect but I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. You might want to grab some Kleenex before reading.
~*~
Less than fifteen minutes later, when the trio came into the street in front of Ipatiev house, they noticed something different. There were no guards standing in the street. In fact, the house looked empty in that somewhat forelorn way that houses look when everyone inside seems to have gone away and left them. Kolya reached quietly for his father's hand and M. Gilliard's hand with each of his as he came to the middle of their small group as though he felt better there. Very occasionally he had been allowed to share lessons with Alexei if his father's work at the palace that day also corresponded with Alexei's lessons time and so he felt familiar enough with the teacher and quite liked him. Sometimes he arranged fun activities and often outings that Kolya was occasionally invited to go along on so he found himself glad that the two grown up men were with him. He supposed at twelve he should be a little more brave, but he was inherently aware that the Russia he had always known was changing... and that was a very scary thought.
What of a world where there was no more Tsar? It was as foreign to the boy as the idea of being shot to the moon inside a hollowed out cannon ball like in Mr. Verne's books...
Quietly they ascended the stairs to the front of the house and it was Gilliard who gave a sharp rap on the door and when he went to do so the door swung of its own accord revealing the main hallway of the house leading to the five small rooms the family and their servants had shared. The hallway was dark and as dusty as ever it had been, but there were things all over the floor. It looked like a burglar had come and rifled through everything in the house before leaving. There were papers and journals strung about on the floor, clothing items, even ripped up bed sheets and pillow cases. Kolya looked around with wide eyes. "Where are they? Leskela and all of the others?" He whispered in fear and astonishment, for it was obvious that no one was here.
Gilliard shook his head, "I don't know... but the whole guard is gone too." He said quietly.
Kolya slipped quietly away from the two men who were examining everything that had been thrown out of place and quietly moved about the entrance hall. He was beginning to have a very bad feeling about this. If the Imperial family had been set free or been moved, they would have heard something. Did that mean..... He had heard Gilliard and his father talk about it very late when they believed he was asleep- what would happen if that man named Lenin who was now in charge decided that it was too much bother supplying guards to the Romanovs. He walked quietly down the hallway, catching sight of a lone piece of paper which fluttered in the slight breeze from outside. It was going to be a warm day, uncomfortably so, he realized. Quietly he moved across the room and picked up the paper and turned it over. His heart skipped a beat when he realized that it was Alyosha's handwriting and it was addressed to him. He turned it over and realized that there wasn't much written, it had been left half finished. He and Alyosha had been allowed to exchange letters sometimes through the guards, * though he had the feeling they were always read before they were passed on, which annoyed him. Had the guards heard nothing of privacy?
His eyes burned with tears as he saw the greeting on the letter. I hug you warmly my friend - the letter read. Kolya's cheeks felt wet with his tears. I hug you warmly too, my friend and my Tsesarevich... In all the new and so-called 'Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic' is there no room for my Leskela? He thought to himself. His throat had become blocked so hard that it hurt and it felt as though he had swallowed an apple whole and only just now realized that it was lodged in his throat. He felt strangely as though he wasn't able to breathe too. He staggered to his feet and quickly folded the letter putting it into his pocket and hurried down the hall, not even sure where he was going. He located an alcove which, he realized, led to a half-cellar room down a set of stairs.
It was dark, but he had a flashlight in his pocket, which he pulled out and used to light his way down the steps and into the fairly small space.
The sight was like something from his nightmares after he had been listening to something scary on the radio but ten times or a hundred times worse. The wall immediately across from him was painted in a paint that looked suspiciously like dried human blood. It went perhaps ten or so feet up the wall almost to the ceiling, blooming like blood spread through water into wider and wider arcs. It had been spattered over the wall like it had come spurting out of arteries or had been blown up. It covered the entirety of the back wall of the room and much of the side walls and even the coal bin was drenched in the stuff. The smell of blood and of gunpowder still lingered in the air, with the blood now being stronger. It invaded his nose like a hostile creature and caused his eyes to tear even more. The wall amongst the blood was ripped open in large gouges and gashes with the papering torn away. Kolya realized that these tears were caused by a myriad number of bullets which had embedded themselves into wall, floor and furniture. There were two chairs overturned and one of those had blood on it too. It ran across the floor spreading out like an oil slick and when he lifted his shoes there was blood flaking off on the soles. He had never seen so much blood in all of his life and that was even being a doctor's son. There was coal dust spread all over the room, especially streaked across the floor and over an item of furniture that, as covered in blood and grime as it was, Kolya identified as a couch, which had been oddly turned to the wall as though someone had pushed it out into the middle of the room for no reason and then just left it there. Footprints that looked like those left in snow by the grand duchesses shoes marred the paint coating of blood on the floor. It could not be more obvious that people had been massacred here.. the very smell of death invaded this place.
Continued in Next post… exceeded maximum post length.. oops.
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) Also the activities that GD Olga would want to take her nieces to do would probably be changed a bit - but I think we can agree Alix still wouldn't have approved of them!
thanks.